All I could do was play along. Either I would satisfy the boss so thoroughly he chose to let me go or I would die in the most pain-free manner possible. It was a grim through, but it was the only one that filled me with a meager sense of hope. My hand trembled as I reached for the collar. The bosss gaze remained fixed on me. His face was impassive and his hand remained perfectly still. He had done this countless times before and, unlike me, he knew exactly what was coming. All I could do was play along and hope for the best. I took the collar and brought it up to my neck. The leash unrolled. One end was attached to the collar, the other remained in possession of my captor. He watched with a complete lack of emotion as I slipped the collar around my neck and slipped the prong into the middle hole. Tighter, said the boss. His voice was void of emotion. I pulled the collar tighter and once again slipped the prong into a hole. Tighter. I gave the man a pleading glance, but he ignored. She headed for the elevators, and when she reached the ground floor she made her way to King Street West. She could have reached Kayak through Toronto’s extensive underground pedestrian pathway, but Geeta preferred to be outside when weather permitted. Yesterday’s rain had passed, and the sun shone down on Toronto’s financial district. Soon she reached Wellington, and a clear view of the golden office tower where she worked. The noon-time sun lit up the building as if it were the best sculpture in an art gallery, a brilliant presence dominating the dull, stolid architecture that surrounded it. From there it was only a short walk to the TD Centre.“Hi, Ms. Gudapati!” said the hostess, “he’s waiting for you at your favourite table.” Geeta thanked the young woman and slipped her a twenty. Jonathan, already seated at the table, rose at her approach. Geeta noticed that he’d taken the seat facing the restaurant’s interior, surrendering to her the seat with a view. The restaurant was on the.
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