Sandra yells, followed by giggling. I laugh, and lean back on the log I’m sitting on. We’re sitting outside around a campfire, having a few drinks and reminiscing about old times. “Is that how you remember it? Cos it’s not how I remember it,” I say, laughing some more. Sandra tilts her head back, taking a huge gulp from her bottle which is still wrapped in a brown paper bag. We're so classy. Sandra’s short dark hair is tied on the top of her head, her dark eyes framed in her wide glasses. “It’s so boring without you here,” she says, sighing. “I wish we could see each other more often.” “I know, I’m always bloody working,” she complains, taking another swig of wine. Sandra works as a personal assistant and is pretty much always on call. “Your boss needs to loosen his strings,” I say, my mouth falling open when I see the look on her face. “What was that face for? What’s going on with your boss?” She looks embarrassed. “We slept together!” she blurts out.
