I sat fuming, staring out the window at being so gullible before returning my focus to her. "Does this," I waved my forefinger back and forth in the s...ace between us, "represent your tastes or can it be… misinterpreted?"She tipped her head, artfully mussing her hair and delicately brushing the finger marks on her neck. "Don't feel bad, Wes. You're exactly what I needed today, thank you."I swallowed as she crossed her legs, hiding the stain I'd put there.Returning my gaze through the window, we. How could she possibly have seen? But of course she knew, the past, the problems. The reason I came to see her employer in the first place, to handle the budding panic attacks… Of course she knew, after the soul-baring talks, the late nights and bottles of wine. For once, I was grateful, not bitter, that someone else knew, if not understood, but knew. The trickle of water running down my spine seemed to confirm the realization. I reached out, and wrapped her in my arms. Startled, she laid her. More

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