I swallowed and took a deep breath—my eyes gazing into his. He cleared his throat as he looked at me. “So what kind of painting do you do?”“Oh... what kind?” I repeated, as I tried gathering my wits, shaking away my rising lust for him, “a-a-it’s hard to say,” I stammered, feeling foolish. “I do mostly realistic scenes from the city—real urban, kind of gritty,” I said, getting a little of my composure back. “I have a show coming up in the spring.”“That’s great,” he said, smiling, his eyes. Paul and Sue duly arrived both looked a similar age to Jane. We ate a simple meal with several bottles of wine, the conversation was quite intellectual but enjoyable. Paul smoked so excused himself as he wanted to purchase a fresh pack and no doubt consume several on his walk back to Jane's apartment. I offered to tidy up leaving the ladies on the sofa with half a bottle of wine. As I loaded the dishwasher I wondered what else the evening held for me, I returned to the lounge to find both Jane. More

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