Several low couches were clustered around the empty fireplace, and a large desk stood against one wall, bearing what seemed to be a state-of-the-art c...mputer. On the far side of the room were arched French windows opening out onto a terrace and the garden beyond. Seated in one of a pair of comfortable chairs angled to look out at the view was a young man, in his mid-twenties, only a year or two older than Hannah herself. He stood, and Hannah's heart fluttered in her chest. He was, without. She had her sweater on, buttoned tight. Robert was oblivious to the biting cold, his jacket open, wit his shirt-tail and tie were loose underneath it, everything flapping in the wind. As was her skirt. Those pleats. Blowing and billowing in the near-gale breeze, exposing her slip, her shiny slip, shimmering in the night street lights. I drove past them, and pulled over, watching them, in my van mirrors, catch up and walk past me. He couldn’t notice they were being followed (or was. More

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