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I was pretty sure that my stepfather, Rob, was screwing me. My mother had got us into a start-up venture together some years ago, before her death; a local Internet service provider for our town. Rob put up most of the starting capital, and did the billing and bookkeeping while I housed the machinery at my home and did the technical work. All of the income was reinvested in the business, and I had a "real" job to pay my bills. We had to borrow heavily at one stage to keep up with the demand for more capacity; but by the time of the story that I will now tell, there should have been profits. Lots of profits. I did the engineering. I knew how many subscribers we had, and I knew what was being spent on equipment, more or less. But Rob wasn't giving me access to the books. As it had started as a family venture, and no one had really expected it to go anywhere serious, I didn't have a proper contract. Rob is a lawyer and accountant, and I was starting to feel,.. well,.. screwed. I wouldn't have felt so strongly about it, if it weren't for Ashima. Ashima... just thinking of her fills me with happiness, even after five years of marriage. We met in Greece; we were both on our vacations. It was Ashima's first time away from India, and mine from The UK. She was... she still is, very beautiful. Thick black hair to her hips, five foot three, slim. I don't know how I managed to win her, but she was the best thing to ever happen to me. The sex was electrical, amazing. She loved my "Big British cock", and it loved her right back! How can I possibly describe the incredible sensation of this petite exotic beauty staring into my eyes with lust and then even love, as she cried with the power of the orgasm I provided her? And there was more than that; I loved her spirit, her bright smile, her sharp wit. I didn't have a lot of experience, but I knew that Ashima was the only woman for me, in bed and out. I had to have her; I asked her to marry me within two weeks of meeting her. I had no choice, I might never see her again otherwise. Ashima was like a bright light, illuminating my previously dark life. Before I knew the euphoria of loving her, I hadn't even been aware of my depression. Ashima is a very un-Indian Indian person. While I would have liked to get a little bit into the Indian spirit of things, Ashima wanted to be All-British. She never liked Rob much, but when I told her of my suspicions, her lovely face contorted with hate. "We should kill the asshole." was her comment when it was clear that there was no legal way to get what was ours. I don't like Rob much either, but I was still surprised at her vehemence. "I don't think that would be useful, my love. What we need is the records, and the bank statements." "Can't you just hack into his computer and get them out?" "He's not that stupid; he knows my abilities. He keeps a separate machine for those things, with no outside line connected." "There must be a way." "I have to get to his machine. If I can connect to it, I can download everything." Her narrow eyes narrowed. "How long would you need?" "Well, I pretty much know where everything is in his place. I guess a half hour would be plenty of time." "We could break in." "There's a pretty good security system up there, with an automatic dialling system. I'd prefer not to muck with it." "We could get in on some excuse... a pretext... then you could get at his computer." "He'd never let me in there alone for long knowingly. If he knew I was even in the house, he'd keep track of what I was up to." "Then we have to get you in without him knowing." We kicked some ideas around for an hour or two, and here's what we came up with; Ashima would make an appointment to see Rob, to overtly ask him to release some company funds to us for our domestic needs. She would distract him, let me in, and I would copy Rob's hard drive and look through his papers while she kept him talking. It wasn't much of a plan, I admit, but it was flexible enough that it might work. "How will I keep him talking for a half hour? He could send me home within minutes." "Don't get to the point to fast... flirt a little. Then he'll be in no hurry to get rid of you." "Flirt? I hate him! I can't I flirt with him." One of the things I've always loved about Ashima is how she sees through people. Nearly everyone thinks that Rob is a wonderful, charming type of guy. I grew up around him, so of course I know him better. "He's an American! He'll be no match for you and your inscrutable Indian ways." I said. Ashima laughed, and said; "I've been here too long already, I don't know if I remember how to be inscrutable!" "Just work on it for a few days, and try to imagine that you think Rob is an O.K. guy...think of this as a role you should act. Try to think of him as attractive... then just keep smiling, laugh at his jokes. Get yourself dressed up for it, he won't be able to resist spending a little extra time with you." "But I don't want to spend time with him, Dave. He makes my skin crawl." My love complained. "I'm not too wild about this, either, but it's the only way, Ashima. Otherwise, we may never know how much Rob is taking us for."

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