She was ready for the real thing. I kissed her as she stepped through the door. It was a gentle kiss. I was trying not to presume anything would come ...f it. She did not detach. Isabel closed the door behind her and kissed me more forcefully. She was wearing boots and tight jeans with a blue scarf that outlined her eyes and hung around her neck in the way that most well dressed women are expected to. She wasn't really the lesbian type, I thought then. She looked to be the socially perfect woman.. Beautiful marble floors, polished to a shine. Antique furniture that looked almost new, but also a modern and inviting sofa and a well-stocked bookcase. Fresh flowers and the smell of something baking wafting in from the kitchen, where a stocky woman of about fifty with her jet black hair tied up in a bun was brewing coffee.“This is Estelle, she is your personal chef,” announced Arturo. And within thirty seconds flat, Estelle had Mel and me seated at the kitchen table and practically pelted us. More

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