“Sydney, the art fair is coming up in a few weeks, are we going to take any pieces over?” “Yeah, that’s a good idea. It’ll give the gallery...some recognition.” I said half-heartedly. Carol looked at me as though she wanted to ask a thousand things and that was all that came out. She had always reminded me of my Aunt Margaret. She had the same short dark hair, speckled with gray. Her wire-rimmed glasses always slipped to the end of her nose. She never looked at you through them, as if they were. Indeed, he watched her closely, mesmerized by her curves and the sensuality of her movements. He knew that her little display was deliberate and would soon set off a chain reaction. The bed sheets around them were a mess and the lingering scent of their sex hung in the air; evidence of their insatiable desire for one another. She leaned back and took a second drag, a seductive curl formed on her lips as she exhaled, letting the smoke linger. She was a vision with her dark tussled hair and deep. More

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