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Please! Let me do itinside at least!" I had never heard myself so panicked."Dance, bitch. Or I'll call the police and tell them of the prostitutegoing...door to door at the hotel." The manpulled a phone out of hispocket and began to dial."NO! I'll do it!" I was screwed.Somehow though my mind was frozen in fear, my hips began to sway to themusic. It's a fast song and my body began to speed up and catch up tothe beat. I felt my legs bending and spreading as I stepped back andforth. I felt my hands. Her head was throbbing, her mouth was dry, and she wasn’t alone.Carlotta loved her job. No, more than that - her job was her life. It was always on her mind, whether she was at the store, vegging out in front of the TV, even on a date: her job was always there, tucked away in the corner of her brain.Except last night.For some reason, last night she hadn’t thought about work at all. She’d done something that she couldn’t remember doing since she was a teenager - she’d followed a whim. She hadn’t. More

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