I took the Coke can from Kathy, who let her hand fall off of my butt, smirking at me as she did. Flustered, I just said, "Thanks." My pleasure," my ne...ghbor said. I climbed onto the stool at the island counter and started to eat. The island was on an angle, and I was facing the family room and the three other women, who were all drinking and occasionally glancing over at me. I started wolfing down my sandwich, but Kathy didn't leave the kitchen. She stood next to my stool to my left, and rubbed. He always seemed to be at the door when she came and went.Her first stop was Pierre?s, a small women?s clothing store that cateredto the individual woman instead of mass merchandising its product.Pierre was the owner and only salesperson, preferring to keep hisclientele limited but lucrative. The women that came to his store werelavished in perfumes, elegant jewelry, and the finest clothing. Nothingwas more important to Pierre than the service he provided.?Oh, Stacy, Thank God!? Pierre came. More

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