If she hasn’t talked to you yet, maybe she isn’t all that interested.”“The hell she isn’t!” Gillian sat up and looked him in the eyes. “...ith those calf eyes following you around? Tomorrow, I’m going to corner her cute tushie and lick her stupid. Wanna bet on whether you have a second wife by dinner time?”She did and he did.It started after breakfast when Gillian went to Marjorie’s office, and finding it empty, she stripped and sat in her chair. When the young woman entered, she was shocked to. He was like the last sip of wine in a glass that if taken would leave only traces of what was. The chef sat dwarfing over his red couch tending the unsatisfactory image that gave route to his thoughts. He stood up, paced the warmed red wood floors. He seemed to trapeze from one paradox of activity to another, skipping over the pause of stillness. He stopped the rusticity of his movements, trying to focus on a sound coming from the house closest to his. It was poetry and seduction and light and. More

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