Karl thumbed the pages, found the listing and burst out laughing. He handed the paper across to Rex, deliberately avoiding my getting in on the joke... Rex howled, "Oh yes, yes, yes. Perfect timing." I wrestled the paper from Rex and found the listing: John Ford's 1633 play, “Tis a Pity She's a Whore" with curtain time, 9:00pm. I went anyway. The next day, Rex called one of his client’s office from our suite. I heard him say, “Sorry, but Ian is not at work today.” So I could have a last. She talked to her folks but didn't tell them anything about Jim: neither did Greg. Jim told his wife that he was in good company and she just laughed and said," so am I."The storm continued to worsen all day. The only time they ventured outside was to get water to warm by the fire or more wood. They spent the time drinking Jim's wine and talking. As the day went on the more the talk turned to sex. The jokes got more and more explicit. The hot fire and the wine were having an effect on them all,. He put his iPod on the charging cradle and got online and looked up Melody on Facebook. She was easy to find. They both went to the same high school, this made his day even better and he sent a silent thank you up to God even though he wasnt very religious. He added her and went downstairs. He was starving. His Dad was out of his bedroom and was making steaks on the patio outside deck behind the house. He walked outside and sat down breathing the smell in. Hungry? His Dad asked him. Brandon. ‘Open your eyes,’ he commanded. Her keen, sharp eyes had changed somewhat. Their strength and intelligence were still there but blended with an incredible mix of submissive eagerness, helpless defiance and powerless anger. For Edmund, it was the most wonderful sight in the world. ‘Stand up.’ She did so, tottering slightly in the skyscraper heels which she normally strode around so confidently in. ‘Now, get down on your knees.’ Kneeling. Before him. In my office? Never. Her knees hit the carpet..
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