“Perhaps you’ll come over to help me find a place to hang it. You know where I live after all,” he murmurs softly.“I’m sure you’re perfect...y capable of finding a place to hang your painting by yourself,” I reply, almost harshly.“Then go for dinner with me, tonight at the Citerion, just the two of us. We need to talk.”“She’ll be there, Mr Watkins. Seven?” interrupts Anya, coming around behind the desk beside me. She slides the large canvas onto the desk towards Mr Watkins, picking up the check. She said a young man like him had to have a girlfriend; it was part of growing up.They talked late into the night about everything and nothing. By the time it was past midnight they were both quite drunk, and as Tom stood to use the bathroom, he lost his balance and fell toward Amanda who was sitting on the sofa. He grabbed the back of the sofa before his weight crushed her. There they were, their faces only inches from each other and she had done the forbidden. She had leaned in and kissed his. More

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