Thigh High Read Online Free

around the table, and took her seat. “The way she’s treated you, making you do all the work.”
    Pootie took a huge helping.
    â€œShe’s the manager. I’m supposed to do the grunt work.” Nessa ran the bank, but that was her weakness—she couldn’t bear to let Stephanie out on the floor to make the tellers and the customers mad. “Yesterday she had me get the big corner office ready. When I asked her why, she refused to say. She hasn’t hired anyone, but there has been an unsigned communication from Philadelphia, and you know what that means. Mr. MacNaught is taking a hand.”
    Everyone tossed troubled glances across the table at each other, then at her.
    â€œNo, it’s good!” Nessa assured them. “Stephanie was unhappy, so it must be good news for me. I’ll get a raise, a real raise this time, one big enough to make a difference.” To allow her aunts to live as they should, alone in their house without the need to cook and clean for a bunch of boarders.
    â€œThat means you can get your own apartment,” Hestia said.
    â€œBut she’s happy living here,” Calista said.
    â€œI am.” No matter how much she would like to have a private conversation with her aunts without boarders listening in and expressing their opinions, Nessa couldn’t get an apartment and pay off the mortgage on the aunts’ house, too. So she would stay
    â€œBut Calista, that’s not the point,” Hestia explained. “Other than college, she’s never lived anywhere else with anyone else. She’s twenty-seven years old and I’m very much afraid she’s still a virgin.”
    Nessa lifted her gaze from her plate to see every eye in the dining room fixed upon her.
    Calista looked horrified.
    Even Hestia looked surprised.
    â€œAm not,” Nessa muttered. “I did go to college, you know.”
    â€œOh, dear,” Debbie murmured, and offered Nessa a sympathetic smile.
    Ryan’s gaze moved from one person to another, obviously fascinated.
    Pulling his head out of his plate, Skeeter offered Nessa a wide-lipped simper that made her skin crawl.
    Pootie stood. “Fascinating as this discussion is, I have to go.” She trudged toward the door, then backed up and stopped behind Nessa’s chair. “Kid, if you ever have the guts to get out of that stupid bank, come to me. You’ve got the smarts. I could teach you.”
    Nessa turned in her chair and stared as Pootie stalked out. The front door slammed shut with the sound of solid wood.
    â€œThat was nice.” Hestia’s impressive eyebrows knit. “I guess.”
    â€œWhat does she do ?” Debbie asked.
    â€œWe don’t know,” Calista said.
    â€œThen you don’t want Nessa doing it, do you?” Daniel asked.
    â€œI suppose not.” But Hestia thoughtfully tapped her finger to her lips.
    â€œYeah, who’d want to work with her? I mean, it’s one thing to be queer, but even her name is weird, and her legs are white and she never shaves them.” Ryan wiped his hands on his chest as if wiping away slime.
    â€œ Mr. Wright.” Hestia fixed Ryan with a stern gaze. “We don’t rent to scalawags and certainly not to men who make ungentlemanly remarks. Please remember that before we change our minds about you. You, too, Mr. Graves.”
    Skeeter looked at his plate with alarm, then back up at Hestia. Like any child of the South, he said, “Yes, ma’am!”
    Ryan’s truculent expression gave way to abashed boyishness. “Sorry. I shouldn’t spread rumors. It’s not like she’s one of the Beaded Bandits.”
    â€œI should say not.” Hestia was clearly offended. “Pootie is a dear, but neither one of the Beaded Bandits is a damned Yankee. ”
    Nessa couldn’t help it—she laughed softly. “Certainly. Only people from New Orleans are mad enough to successfully rob banks