“I’ve enjoyed your playing tonight.”“You did? I didn’t think you noticed. You were with the Borelli’s most of the time. Particularly Mrs. ...orelli.”Mark smiled and took a moment before replying. It was as if he understood her and what made her tick. He stared at her and knew where she itched and how she needed to be scratched. And she knew it too. She knew it as soon as she laid eyes on him. “We have a thing going on,” he said as his eyes devoured her body.“Oh ... like Me and Mrs. Jones?” a. "Me?" Yes, you. You show up in a muscle car while the rest of the men drive little foreign sports cars." "I refuse to be like everyone else. You have to be yourself." Don't you want to fit in?" To a point, but I refuse to be boring." You should see the looks you get when you show up on your motorcycle. Isn't riding a motorcycle dangerous?" she continued."Life's too short not to live a little dangerously," I replied.We continued to and drink and make polite conversation. It was after her return. More

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