"So, Jenna," she said, coming back into the office wrapped in a long, crimson silk gown and a towel over her hair, interrupting my daydream. "Have yo... ever thought of dancing professionally?" "Uh... no, not really," I answered, a little surprised at the question. I watched Jenna as she stepped over to the low cabinet that sat against the back wall, and poured herself a cup of coffee. With a glance over her shoulder and a raised eyebrow, she silently asked if I wanted a cup, too, and I. With haste, he rushed inside to mop quickly and head home. The painful truth be told, he hated walking through thick fog, and he had an idea this was a peasouper.Tanking two steps at a time, he ran up the stairs to the booth and gathered his books, placing them in the leather satchel. The satchel was called a soft briefcase, but he thought the thing appeared to others like a purse—which he hated. However, being a gift from his mother, he always carried the thing. Moving from the booth, he. More

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