“Juarez ..Juarez!” a disheveled but attractive middle aged woman calls. She enters the room with an awkward gait. She is partially dressed in a black pinstripe business suit, one shoe is missing; her jacket is somehow stuck in the zipper of her skirt and her silk blouse is minus one sleeve. She stumbles and crashes into a large brown couch in a very messy living room. She remains in the spot where she landed on the couch unable to coax another move from her body.

“Juarez! Where are you? Ayudame!”

A nearby curtain moves slowly to reveal a hesitant and somewhat frightened 30 ish , well built handsome, Hispanic male. He slowly moves towards her looking over his shoulder as he come closer. He answers her in almost a whisper.

    “Si,… yes, Anna what is wrong?”

   “firstly, I am dying, so go make funeral arrangements.”

He smiles a skittish smile and replies.

    “You are not dying, you only look like it.”

“Thanks I knew I could always count on you.”

She sits up holding her head in both her hands. 

 “Speaking of counting on you what the heck happened I thought you said you would get everything cleaned up. It’s 12:00pm and this place should not still look like this.”

  He shifts uncomfortably, as if trying to hold his tongue, after a pause he clears his throat and answers.

“I did cleanup, I cleaned everything spic and span, the mess was no mas.”

“Well, what happened then and why is it so cold in here?”

He clears his throat again before he answers. 

 “You have a problem, senora.”

She sits up slightly attempting her full attention.

“Oh yeah, what is that Juarez, I’m not paying you enough? Listen I thought we had an understanding – no raise until the new year just so I can get over this hump.”