Jesus Christ, was he trying to get me killed? I had a sudden mental picture of those movies where armies of cops surround one poor guy all with their ...uns pointed. In the movies I remembered mostly the guy got shot full of a very large number of holes.I looked at the picture to reassure myself. It looked even less like me in slightly grainy print than it had on my cell display. Nobody'd recognize me from that.Even so, it didn't help my appetite. I'd been hungry when I came in, but I wound up. And that face...even he would admit, was simply beautiful."So... what does my father want?" Tristan asked, knowing very well Damon was there on the instructions of his father. The two of them wanted to enter into some sort of business and his Dad had told him the day before that he wanted him to handle it. He had promptly told him he wasn't interested but his dad had cut him off saying Damon was going to get in touch with him. Now here he was. Just great!"I presume he told you about Albatros.". I couldn't tell which was louder.Well, I did hear the distant sound of coffee perking but it wasn't all that intrusive. And after a bit even that sound faded away. Shortly after that, I heard the shuffle of feet, like rubber or soft soled shoes scuffing over a hard floor. That was followed by the sound of cups being moved and then a chair scraping the floor."Come on in here, hon. We'll drink our coffee and see if we can figure this out," she called.I rose and walked toward the voice, soon. ‘I want you so much, you are so close during the day, yet so far away,’ I told her. ‘I know, it hurts me too,’ she said, ‘we must be quick, I am expected back soon. Sara Jane requested that I help her mend a dress tonight. I could not put her off. She asked me what I was going to do and I had to tell her I was going about to finish some chores I had not completed earlier in the day… She gave me a quizzical look as if to say why not leave them for tomorrow but before she could say anything I.
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