’ She stops and the pout is back. ‘You’re mean. And here I am a patron of the arts.’ He snorts and turns to walk away, to a broad side table w...ere he continues what he was doing before she knocked, cleaning his brushes. She hops up on the edge of the table and dangles her feet over the edge. ‘You look good. You should be wearing a puffy shirt and leather breeches. Will you get a puffy shirt and leather breeches for me?’ He smiles and shakes his head ‘Sure, when you break out the construction. ”“You want to talk about it?” she asked solicitously.“Yeah. I think I do,” I said, surprising myself as much as her.“Over breakfast?”I shook my head. “Breakfast can wait, I guess.”She turned and led me into the living room. Once there, she turned on one of the end table lamps and motioned for me to sit on the couch.When I’d seated myself, she sat facing me, close but not touching me.“Are you upset at what happened?” she asked gently.“No,” I answered immediately. “Er, yes. No. Um, I don’t. More

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