Marina shifted her bags onto her lap and remembered with some embarrassment the large knife she had secreted there so boldly and purposefully just a few hours before. It all seemed so ridiculous now, she thought as she fumbled to locate the buckle of the seat belt. Daniel Medcalf was not only a charming family man, he was also proving to be a noble knight in extremely shiny and luxurious armour, coming to the rescue of a rather old damsel in distress. No, she thought, reiterating the conclusion she had reached a while ago, Daniel Medcalf was really not at all the monster she had made him out to be at all.The engine of the car was still running, the heater throwing out a welcome warmth, which only served to emphasise how cold Marina had become in the time she had sat inside that draughty freezing shelter. The windscreen wipers swished away the velvet snow which was coming down even harder than before. Medcalf slipped into the driver’s seat, swiftly clicked his safety belt, put the car. Would it be good to have everything done for me? I sure didn't want to wind up like those pampered Hollywood pretty boys who complain when their latte is three degrees too cold and people don't understand how difficult their lives are as they make fifteen million for a stupid movie. On the other hand, a little pampering wouldn't hurt. I could always pitch in if I was getting too spoiled.The waffles were coming out of the kitchen and we sat down to eat. Tara was the only one eating whipped cream; the others saying they watched their calories. Once we had started eating, I turned to Christine and asked, "So it looks like the one girl at a time is over." She smiled and nodded. "I hope it doesn't kill me." That brought smiles from the girls. "I do have a question. How much will I see you up here? I mean is there a schedule or something?"Christine, deadpan, said, "Oh yes. It's all scheduled. At ten O five you hump Tara. At eleven thirty-three you do Holly. Then at..." The girls burst into.
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