“When they think of democracy, they think of Coca-Cola,” read a prominent placard at Coke’s first international convention.(1948)

In February 1986, at the dacha outside Moscow.

Ulapala pushes open the door to the living room, where her female assistant is carrying her gift. Romanov is sitting on the sofa watching "1984", and he is using a pen to put

This peculiar linking-together

of opposites—knowledge with ignorance, cynicism with fanaticism —is one of the chief distinguishing marks of Oceanic society.

The official ideology abounds with contradictions even when there is no practical reason for them.

Thus, the Party rejects and vilifies every principle for which the Socialist movement originally stood, and it chooses to do this in the name of Socialism.

Marked out, the ink of the pen forms curves on the paper. The words begin to twist together as they are joined together.

the old truths of Nature and the laws of human nature,

and the endless expansion of the human species.

Ulapala wondered if this gaze signified the importance the book owner attached to the text, and she waited silently until the book owner set the book aside to fix his gaze on her.

"The book?" he asked.

"What?"

"You were looking at that book."

"Oh. Er..." She blushed. "Do you have something that I can read?"

"No, you don't need to read those books. Come here and sit on my lap."

She moved forward, and sat on his lap. He stroked her hair gently.

"I understand you're new to this place, so let me explain something to you," he said. "The world is made up of two distinct social groups: those who seek to control others, and those who are controlled. The former are referred to as the Authorities, and the latter as the Proles. The Proles are a working class of people who must work to survive. The Authorities are a wealthy class of people who do not work, and do not want others to work. The Authorities exist because the Proles work for them. Without the Proles, the Authorities have nothing. Do you understand?"

"Yes..."

"Good. These books contains the last remnants of a civilization that fell under the shadow of the Authority. This is a civilization that the Proles built, and it is the duty of the Authorities to preserve it for the benefit of the Proles."

"And what are the benefits of the books for the Proles? What are you trying to preserve?"

"The benefits are numerous. For example, they contain the blueprint for all the items in this house. They contain technological advances that can be used to further human life. Forget it, I don't want to talk about that. What gift did you bring me?"

Ulapala blushed. "I... Um..." She looked down, fiddling with her hands. "I have a gift for you. It's..." She looked up, met the owner's gaze.

"Fishnet stockings, I thought you'd like to see me in them."

Romanov smiled, and his face softened.

"You're very thoughtful, Ulapala. You remind me of girls at your age. I'll keep that in mind."

"So then, what do you want?" she asked, unable to maintain the excitement and shyness.

"Something to read. Something to preserve. Something to eat." Romanov grabbed her chin and said, "And desire, of course. Now, what are you giving yourself to me in exchange for?"

"Well, I know that the Soviet Union intends to resell the debts of other countries it owns to the U.S. Could you involve the Leningrad Bank?"

"Perhaps. But first, you must do something for me."

"Anything."

"First, call me Dad and help me find the girl to my bedroom later."

"Sure thing, Dad."

"Come here, my love." He patted the cushion beside him, and she moved closer until her head rested on his shoulder.

"We have much work to do." He added after a moment's thought, "In addition, you will help me set up several secret accounts at international banks to keep the funds. I don't want the tax department to be able to find out."

"What are you going to use these funds for?"

"The usual. Food, shelter, clothing etc. I'll use the money to travel to other countries, where I'll find young women to adopt as my children. They will be taken care of, and they will be educated in the ideals of the Soviet Union. Are we clear on this, Ulapala?"

"Dad. I'm happy to be of service."

"Good girl."

Romanov stood, holding his bitch hand. He walked toward the inner chambers of the house, leading her by the hand. He did not release her, and she stayed close, following quietly.

"So then, let's get down to business. What exactly do you intend to give me?" Romanov asked her.

Ulpala took a deep breath, and her eyes widened. She bit her bottom lip, and her hand began to tremble.

"You want..."

"Yes, I want." He took off his jacket and said, "Is it a safe day for you?" He pulled his shirt off, revealing the perfect form of a mature, man. The skin on his torso was a light shade of tan, with several scars on his torso. "Yes," she said, staring at his body.

"Very well, I don't want you to get pregnant with my child right now." He grabbed her chin again, "And you will not get pregnant while you serve me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Good." He patted her head, and said, "Only obedient girls can live, now let's sleep."

The next few hours passed slowly for Ulapala. After a few hours of sleep, her eyes blinked open. She looked around, and saw the same old furniture. Romanov still slept next to her, while she began to wonder where in this house she could go to escape. After a few moments, she rose from the bed. She had a plan.

She walked over to the dresser, looked inside, and said, "Dad."

"Yes, my dear. Be quick." He stood, and stretched.

"I thought we had reached an agreement? That the claims on those Soviet debts would be transferred to my bank?"

"We did, but I can't guarantee my own safety. A deal's a deal."

"I understand that, but what do you intend to give me in return?"

Romanov got up and stood naked in front of her and said, "Guess how many billion dollars in total debt will be transferred to your bank?"

"One billion?" she guessed.

"In total, the Soviet Union owned $32 billion in Cuba, $11.096 billion in North Korea, $12 billion in Iraq, $11.2 billion in Mongolia, $10.5 billion in Afghanistan, $9.8 billion in Syria, $9.4 billion in Vietnam, $4.6 billion in Libya, $4.7 billion in Algeria, $4.8 billion in Ethiopia, $5.3 billion in Yemen, Mozambique 2 billion, Pakistan $5 billion, Yugoslavia $4.3 billion, Tanzania $2 billion and Zambia $1 billion for a total of $129.7 billion in claims, and that's at an interest rate of 2.5 percent."

"That's a bargain," Ulapala said, "How exactly am I going to transfer this debt?"

"Transferring those debts to those American consortiums, you should know to do that, right?" Romanov yawned and immediately lay back down on the bed.

"I don't know how. I'm only the accountant," she said, "You will have to explain it to me."

"I doubt it's necessary, I'd better explain. You know, before the war, there was a trade agreement between the Soviet Union and these countries. Those companies were paid in hard currencies. They were converted into debt, for us to pay. Those countries have since adopted the American dollar as their own, and the price of these countries'currencies has gone down, so much so, that now they can't repay their debts." He chuckled. "It's a win-win situation."

"So, this is how it's going to go." Romanov sat upright in bed. "We will require that these countries will repay their debts with hard currency and resources with the signing of bilateral economic and trade agreements, and the remaining non-performing debts that cannot be transferred to U.S. companies through your banks. In return, your bank will forgive the Soviet Union's non-performing debt, with a small concession. You can call it a restructuring, if you like."

"I see... This is quite the deal you're offering me."

"Isn't it?" Romanov leaned forward again. "Now, I require a few concessions from you as well."

"Such as?"

"Kiss me and call me czar."

"Excuse me?"

"It's an old, old Russian tradition. It translates to 'I require it.'" He stood, and she sat and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking," she said.

He grabbed her face and kissed her.

"Stop thinking," he said, "And you'll see."

"I'll have to agree."

"Agree to what?"

"That you're czar."

"Agree at my command." He smiled and said, "I will be the new czar of the Soviet Union, and you will be one of my queens."

She smiled back. "I can think of a better title," she said, "but that will have to do."

"Yes, get down on your knees and kiss my hand." He extended his hand, and said, "Now, I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"Do you want this title and position? The kind of favor that can only be granted by a czar."

"I..." Ulapala opened her mouth to say something, but he interrupted.

"Don't answer right away. Think about it. Ask yourself if you really want this. Think about what it truly means." He said seriously, "If you become my queen, you will betray the people and the Soviet Union with me; do you choose personal interest or loyalty to the people?"

She paused for a moment, then said, "Personal interest."

He smiled and shook his head. "You are a most valuable person. I have no doubt I can count on you." He kissed her again, on the forehead, then patted her on the bottom. "I hope you'll make a good queen."

As she left the room, she wondered if she'd made the right choice.

---

New York, March 1986

A tall man wearing a dark suit and a red tie walked into the New York branch of the Bank of New York. He had a briefcase in his hand. As he entered the building, the teller on duty looked up and said, "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Boris," the man said, "Has Miss Ulapala from the Soviet Bank arrived yet?"

"She just arrived a few minutes ago, sir."

"Please call her in, and tell her I'd like to see her. Make sure she gets the message."

The teller pressed some buttons on his keyboard and said, "Miss Ulapala, there was a gentleman here to see you."

A moment later, the inner door opened and the man entered. He was dressed in a dark suit and a red tie. The woman was wearing a gray dress with a green coat, and had a large bag slung over her shoulder.

"Mr. Burke?" she asked.

"That's right. You must be Miss Ulapala."

"Yes, I'm Ulapala. It's a very nice honor to finally meet you."

"I was quite impressed with the way you managed to get my bank to switch from the Deutschmark to the American Dollar. It's quite a feat you have."

"Thank you, it's a long story."

"Long story? I think you're being modest."

"No, really, it's a long story. Perhaps we should go some place less...public."

"Oh, OK. My name is Michael Burke, but my friends call me Mike."

"My name is Ulapala," she said, extending her hand, "It's nice to meet you too."

He shook her hand and said, "Well, I suppose we should go somewhere else, so we don't get into a whole mess of trouble."

They left the bank and walked into an alleyway. When they were out of sight of the bank, she said, "There's something you should know."

"What's that?" he asked.

"Bank of New York is not a bank at all, but an 'agency' in the employ of the United Americans."

"What?" he said, "What on earth do you mean?"

"The Agency is responsible for the bank, and it's purpose is to launder money for the American government. That's how they've been able to stay in business for so long. You should know this."

"That's terrifying."

"Yes." She pulled a stack of papers out of the bag and handed them to him saying, "I'm not here to concern myself with that, I just wanted to know if you could contact Citibank with the people behind it. My Soviet masters want you to be involved in a deal that will benefit everyone."

He glanced over the papers and said, "These are letters of credit, the most basic form of credit. But I suppose it'll do." He said, "By the way, aren't you a little worried about being seen with me?"

"No worries, you're just a pawn to deliver a message. If I wanted to, you could immediately disappear from the world just like my master can make me disappear."

"I see. Well, I suppose we should head back. Right now, I'm afraid our only option is to return here and hope for the best."

------

First National City Bank Financial Group, Citibank, New York

March 1986

The man sat in the cafeteria of the Bank of New York and studied the menu. After a moment, he said to himself, "This has got to be the most boring job in the world."

A few minutes later, a woman walked through the door, and the man looked up. "Oh, hello, Miss Ulapala," he said, getting to his feet. "Would you like a seat?"

"Yes please," she said. "I'm terribly sorry, I just don't have time to wait for a table."

He led her to a table and said, "We have a spare seat."

"Thank you." She sat down.

"I didn't think you'd be so prompt," he said. "After the way you left the bank, I thought you'd at least wait for a table."

"I was in a rush," she said.

"From what I've heard, you're rather new here."

"You could say that, but whether we can work together for a win-win situation doesn't depend on that aspect, right?"

"Of course not. May I recommend the roast beef sandwich and a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, thank you."

He ordered the food and said, "I suppose we should begin."

"It's not necessary. I know much of what you do, or rather, what you don't do."

He looked up in shock. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I'm you, darling."

He continued to stare at her in disbelief. "You are?" He asked.

"We have a common purpose, Mr. John Reid, and I want the debt to become hard currency. I want to be a member of your board of directors. If you help me with this, I'll help you with yours, and we can both make a lot more money than we can here. What do you think? It's a win-win situation, no?"

He thought for a moment. "And who are you? I mean, who are you really?"

"A friend. Our respective homelands should not be enemies, the U.S. and the Soviet Union can rule the world together, you want access to the Soviet market, and we want to get rid of the blockade. At least freedom and socialism? I don't think we care."

He studied her face. "And you're willing to let me go?"

"Yes, I suppose."

He nodded. "I'll need time to think this over."

She stood up. "Of course, I hope that the Leningrad Bank, which I represent, will reach a consensus with you to facilitate the successful transfer of our claims. Also, there is a hotel room with a young Yugoslavian girl waiting for you, and this is a gift." She put the key to that room on the table. "The room is paid for for the next seven days. If you want to take the girl, that's your business."

He picked up the key and looked at the room. "This is a nice gift, you can't give gifts like this anymore. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Perhaps you'd like to meet her?"

"Yes, I'd like to."

"Take care, Mr. Reid. It's been a pleasure."

He watched her walk out the door. Then, he looked at the key to the hotel room.

He got up and went to the hotel room, opened the door, and said, "Hello."

She stood there, a young woman of perhaps nineteen years of age, with a very bored look on her face. "Hello," she said.

"I'm John Reid. You may call me Jack."

"I'm Jane."

"Oh, very nice name. You know we're staying together for seven days?"

She nodded. "Yes, that's fine."

"That's seven days of fun, darling."

"Huh?"

He smiled to himself. "That's a nice piece of fabric you're wearing."

She looked down at her dress. "Do you like it? It's yours."

He shrugged. "Now, Jane you go and turn the lights off, we're going to spend the night together then I'll take you back to my private villa."

"Yes, sir."

He watched her walk off. He smiled to himself. He'd definitely be seeing more of her.

Until he gets bored with it.

------

The next day, he took her out to lunch. He treated her to a nice meal in a five-star restaurant. "This is on the house," he said. "My treat."

She looked at the menu and said, "Thank you."

"How did you come to America and become a special servant?"

"I used to be a ballerina when I was younger. One day, our professor asked us to go to Germany to study the newest dance steps. I went, and learned from the best. When I came back, I was a professional. My career took off from there."

"You're very good at what you do."

"Thank you."

He nodded and said, "I'll take you to my private villa, I'll work during the day and I'll be back at night."

"Okay."

"I'll meet you back here at night for dinner and we'll begin preparations for the trip."

He took her to the private villa. It was exquisite. In fact, it was the most extravagant home she'd ever been in. Everything was larger-than-life, from the couch to the carpet to the walk-in closet. "This is all yours, darling." He said to her.

"Thank you. Did you put together a loan? I'm in dire need of money."

"We will discuss that at dinner."

He took her to dinner. It was a very nice meal. He treated her to the best wine he had. It was a very good year for wine.

"How much do you need?" He asked after taking a drink and putting his hand on her waist.

"At least a million dollars."

"A million dollars? You're asking a loan of that size? I can get you a few million."

"No, that's not what I mean. I need at least twenty million. That's just for starters. I'll need more money later on. For my family, for them to –"

"Okay." He thought for a moment and said, "You know no one is going to offer that much money for free, and you need to pay for it."

"I know. But I need to be realistic. I'll need to take some risks. There are no guarantees. I need at least twenty million to come to America. The rest will be used to set up bank accounts in Switzerland and Australia."

He nodded. "A million would be a very good start. We'll manage the rest."

"Thank you, Jack. I appreciate it."

"I'm not offering this for free, I need a maid who can meet my every need, and if you want that much of a loan...you need to sell you to me."

She smiled. There was more than a little hunger in his voice. She looked into his eyes to see if he was being serious. He wasn't. She smiled. "I don't know what it is you're selling me for, Jack, but I'm sure it's not a maid."

He laughed. "or female slaves. You want to work in my home, you'll be treated like a wife. At least, that's what we'll call it."

She glanced around the room and looked back at him. "I'd rather not be a maid."

"I'd rather not have a wife who can't meet my needs."

She laughed softly. This time, he didn't get upset. There was a hint of sass in his voice.

"I'm not joking, Jack. I'd rather not be anything than what I am."

"It's your decision, do you want to die old and sick in the slums or raise your offspring with me in a rich neighborhood?"

The way he asked the question made her shudder. She looked in his eyes to see if he was serious. He wasn't. He continued, "Do you want to be a maid or a wife, Jane?"

"I don't want to be anything, Jack. I'd be one of your slaves if I agreed to be your wife."

"What's the big deal? I am a banker that's fallen on hard times. I have a large home and a successful business. What do you need from life, Jane?"

"'Maid' will do." She crossed her arms.

"That's it, you give up and sell yourself to me and help me with my needs, and I take care of you and let you have my illegitimate children."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I'd rather you died young than sold yourself to a man like you, Jack." She crossed her arms. Her voice was cold.

"You won't think like that later, telling you how it was to live with your family in Yugoslavia? How many men did you have before?"

"I only had you, Jack."

"Don't you want to have more?"

"No."

He frowned. "Why not?"

"You see me as a tool, Jack."

He didn't respond. He sat there, taking in the information.

"Don't you see me as a man who needs to be taken care of, Jack?"

He sat in silence a moment. "Everyone needs care, but no one cares about others. Now, tell me how you and your family lived in Yugoslavia versus wanting to immigrate to the United States?"

"My family went hungry while the men in my town worked hard to make enough money to eat."

"Did they send you to America?"

"I wanted to go."

"Why?"

"I wanted to see the world."

"Why? Why would you want to see the world?"

"Because it's the world."

He smiled. "You're not answering my question, Jane."

"Because the question doesn't make any sense, Jack."

"Explain it to me."

"You don't need to know. You'll never understand."

"Try me."

"You have no reason to trust me, Jack."

He shrugged. "Prove yourself to me."

She looked away. "How?"

"Tell me how you starved in Yugoslavia with your family."

"I sold myself to a man for a loaf of bread."

"How did you survive? It must've been hard to do that."

She nodded and said, "Nothing just give up dignity, without money we live less than a rich man's dog. We can't afford to sell anything, and the government won't give us anything. I sold myself to a man for a piece of bread versus to live, and then I was sold here in America."

"Sell what, exactly?"

"My body, Jack."

"You sell your body... for what?"

"For money."

He stared at her blankly.

"Fine, What do you want to do, Jane?"

"Kill you."

He laughed. "I'd say you're a little far from that, sweetheart." He stood up from the couch. "Come. Let's go to bed."

He held his hand out for her. She took it, and they walked to his bedroom. He opened the door and said, "You can sleep in the bed or on the couch. Tomorrow, I will help you immigrate your family to America. Of course, you need to become my maid and slave."

"I'll take the bed, Jack."

He smiled. "Fine. Good choice." He closed the door.

"I'll take the couch, Jack."

"Suit yourself. You're mine anyway, kiss me on the mouth."

"I'll remember you in my prayers, Jack." She lay down on the couch. She looked up at the ceiling. "Can we do this tomorrow?"

"Of course." He sat on the bed. "I have a question, why is your family so poor?"

"My father was in the army. When he died, we lost the money he'd saved up."

"I see." He stroked his chin. "What do you think of me, Jane?"

"I don't trust you, Jack. I think you're a man who doesn't want to work and just takes what you wants."

Jack frowned. "But it's logical, people don't care about your misery and morality, only about how much money you have. And it's enough that I have wealth, that's the truth of how capital works: everything is about maximizing profit. Everything else is a lie, just like there was no political democracy in the Soviet Union and no economic democracy in the United States."

"I'm only speaking of my family, Jack. I don't judge you for what you're doing."

"Good." He leaned forward. "If you obey & love me, one day I'll drown you in dollars. Now, kiss me."

She rose from the couch. She walked to the bed, and sat down on the edge of it. She kissed him. He held her close to him, and they stayed that way until they fell asleep.

---

Jane awoke to the dawn light. She looked at the bedside clock. Six thirty-four. She looked over at Jack. He slept soundly, snoring lightly.

She got up from the bed. She walked to the window, and looked outside. They had a clear view of the sunrise over the city. She stood there a moment, thinking about her life. She wasn't sure where to go from here. She had a strange feeling about this day. She sensed it would change the direction of her life.

She returned to the bed, and looked at Jack. He slept still. She lay down next to him, and closed her eyes. She felt his arm around her, and they slept until noon.

When they woke, he got up, and walked over to the window. The phone rings. He picked it up, and said, "Yes?"

"It's me, Ulpala."

"Ah, Ulpala, what's going on?"

"How about that girl? Are you satisfied?"

"I'm satisfied, yes."

"I just wanted to let you know, you don't have to deal with her. Go on about your day, as if nothing happened. You have my word."

"Ulpala, I appreciate that. I just wanted some company."

"Sure thing. I'll see you tonight."

"See you later, Ulpala."

----

It was almost dinnertime when she got up from the couch. Jack was already at the window. "We need to go to the bank," she said.

"I know, I still need to see Ullapala with you." He turned to her. "What's going to happen when we go?"

"We're going to make money." She smiled. "Lots of money."

"I see." He kissed her.

That evening, he took Jane to meet with Ulapala at the restaurant. Ulpala sat at an outside table, drinking a glass of wine. When they approached the table, She stood up, and said, "You have five minutes, then we have to leave."

"Understood," he nodded.

He and Jane sat down.

"So, what are the results of your consideration?" Ulapala asked, crossing her arms.

"Ulpala, you're a strange one. You have money, but you also have something that I want. The means to get what you want is what I need."

"And what is that?"

"Your friendship."

"Oh." Ulapala took a drink of wine. "I'm not very good at making friends."

"You're not very good at sharing either. Now, I have a question for you: which would you rather have, wealth or power?"

"Both." Ulapala smiled. "I'm a greedy person. Always have been, always will be."

"You're unpredictable. I like that in a person. Give me a moment to think." He picked up the wine glass, and took a drink. "I'll give you a moment, because I do like your greedy little face. Power, I think. For the sake of our friendship, I will be in a position to help you convince the Rockefeller Consortium and the J.P. Morgan Consortium to buy your debt. But I also need interest and commitment."

"And I want to be paid off in a combination of both dollars and shares. But let's not discuss that until you've given me what I want."

"I thought you'd see it my way." He took another drink of wine. "And I'll give you those things: interest and commitment, just as I promised. You have my word. I'm not a Soviet, and I know you're convincing those consortium families to cooperate. I need fifty million dollars and fifty million more with your Leningrad Bank board membership when the thing is done."

"Fifty million dollars? That's not a whole lot of commitment."

"It's a hell of a lot more than I'm giving you now. You're getting a bargain."

"Alright, I'll give you fifty million dollars. The rest of the money will be paid off in shares. You're actually getting more than you're putting in, I think."

"That's because, unlike you, I have a conscience." He leaned in close. "And don't think I haven't noticed that you're wearing a low-cut, barely there dress."

Jane choked on her wine.

"I'll give you an additional five million dollars if you take that dress off."

"You're not..."

"Yes, I am." He winked.

Jane stared at him, speechless.

"What do you say, Ulapala? Take off the dress."

"No." Ulapala wrote a check for $50 million and said, "You're drunk and it's time for me to go. Enjoy your Jane time remember our promise." She turned, and walked away.

"Well, we've made some money,"

"So, you think you made a good deal?" Jane said.

"That's for me and the bankers to decide."

Jane blushed and said, "If you'd been paying attention, you would have noticed that I wasn't wearing any underwear."

"My bad." He sipped his wine and said, "You're right. Maybe I should take you to a movie some time."

Jane laughed, and said, "Only if we make more money."

"Please, I was joking. Please take your dress off," he said, extending his hand.

Jane stared at his hand, speechless.

"Fine, I'll..." She glanced around and said, "Wait, fifty million dollars is too much. I'm not taking off my dress. Get twenty-five million."

"No, I want fifty million. You're taking off your dress."

Jane sighed and said, "Fine." She pulled her dress off.

"I was kidding." He smiled.

She laughed and said, "You should be more careful."

He said, "I am satisfied, now squat down and call me master then get dressed and come home with me." He collected the check.

Jane squatted and moaned, "Master!" she said.

"Yes?" He gave her a playful swat.

"I need more money."

"Here, take this." He tossed her a few bills.

Jane counted them, frowned, and said, "That's not how this works. I need more. I want more."

"No more money. You've had your fun." He stood.

"Please! Just..."

"No." He got up and said, "I will give it to you when you are more obedient. Now, come home with me."

Jane looked up at him and said, "Yes, please..."

"Get dressed and come home...now."

"Yes, please..." She stood and pulled her dress back on.

She and him and went home. He went back to the boardroom.

Jane sighed and sat back down. She pulled the money out of the bag and counted it. At least two thousand dollars. She'd have to figure out how to hide it all.

She thought of her step-sister. She imagined the two of them in their small apartment. Jane would be cooking, and her step-sister would be watching TV. They would argue. The sister would demand money, Jane would give it to her.

Then she'd worry. Maybe the cops would come and take her away. She'd be in the newspaper. They might even put her in jail. She'd have to sneak money to her. Maybe she could sell blood.

She'd have to figure it all out.

She would worry.

Would her sister even want to be in a relationship with a criminal? She had a good thing going now. Why risk it all by getting mixed up with a criminal?

Jane buried her face in the covers and stared at the green bills, wondering why she had to give up everything just to get more of these papers that were just printed in color?

Maybe she should worry about her sister

Maybe, if things went bad, she should look out for her sister.

Maybe, she should be a good person

Jane laughed.

"What's so funny?" He asked as he returned to the bedroom and stared at her.

"Nothing," she said. She covered her mouth and said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. I just...I don't know. It just crossed my mind."

"What crossed your mind?" He sat beside her on the bed and stared at her.

"I could give all this money to my sister," she said, holding out her hand. "She deserves it."

He asked, lying flat on his back, "Your sister? How old is she?"

"I don't know, 15 maybe."

"Does she live in the city?"

"No, here in the country."

He lay on his back. "Well, I guess you asked me to bring her and your mother to live here?"

She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Well, I will help you with your bank account tomorrow with the transfer of two million dollars. You should thank me."

"Thank you."

"That's alright. I'll put your sister on the payroll as a consultant. She can do odd jobs that need to be done that nobody else is willing to do."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He stood up and went over to the dresser. He took out a pair of black pants and folded them. "An ordinance banning child labor would instead deprive poor children of the opportunity to survive, and forcing children to go to school to be educated instead of being allowed to work is not always the best option for children. Of course, I hope you

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