The added bonus was that all the staff got to have a cooked breakfast, lunch and cakes for afternoon tea on Friday and Saturday, everybody agreed that the food was excellent. The restaurant was going to be one of the projects under Maggie’s supervision and so Grace, Emma and she spent most of the week together, finalising menus and unpacking and organising the furniture for the dining room. Grace and Maggie had arranged to start interviewing candidates for the kitchen staff and waitresses for the restaurant the next week. The intention was to have the catering project up and running a week before the official opening to iron out any issues. Mother’s Day was one of those celebrations that had never really caught on in a big way for our family, when we were kids Emma and I would get Mum a posy of flowers and we would usually have a nice cooked lunch at home, but that was it. The last couple of years since I had been working I had bought her a decent bouquet and had paid for the three. The Photographer licked his lips and murmured “Oh, Emma, you are so… so… vibrant! So… so… perfect!” and all the time kept shooting. She brushed her hair back over her left shoulder, exposing her beautiful shoulders and back, as she flattened her stomach against the wall. She smiled that mysterious smile once again and laid her cheek against the wall, staring back at the camera, her face radiant within the mass of her silky hair. Her excitement was evident in the crimson flush of her cheeks, and she could feel the rise of temperature all along her body as she reveled in the beginning feelings of getting naked before the camera. He suddenly flung the camera aside, unable to contain himself, and rushed forward, fumbling at the belt of his trousers and kicking off his shoes. By the time he reached her, he was hobbling forward with his pants bunched around his ankles and his raging hard-on standing almost horizontal. He flipped the hem of the tunic up over her back as he molded himself.
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