She called the front desk, her voice smooth and urgent:
“My bathroom’s broken—it’s leaking everywhere.”
Minutes later, the maintenance worker knocked. She opened the door in nothing but a silk robe, the fabric barely holding together.
“It’s the sink,” she said softly, guiding him inside. “Water’s going everywhere.”
He knelt to check the pipes, but before he could speak, she leaned in close, her voice a whisper laced with heat:
“Careful… I might end up making an even bigger mess.”
What happened next? Let’s just say plumbing wasn’t the only thing that needed fixing.
