"You don't mind my old buggy, do you?" Jillian asked. "It's a kind of… of a fetish I have." "No way!" I exclaimed. "I mean, I never actually been in...one. But I've always wanted to." The driver helped us into the cab, then stowed my camera gear beneath the empty seat. With his mutton-chop sideburns, morning coat and top hat, he looked straight out of central casting. "Home, Miss?" he asked. Jillian nodded, and as we rolled onto the boulevard accompanied by the hoof beat of the high-stepping. You've got someone much better for that." She smirked at me, then nodded her head in the direction of the tub. "So, I guess you haven't fixed it. Should I just get a gun and shoot it?" Nope. I know what's wrong with it. It'll be an expensive fix though." As she lifted an eyebrow at me, I said, "It's going to cost you a bottle of champagne and about ten bucks."Her eyebrows went even higher, and she made a 'come on' motion with her hand. "The proof was when you got yourself positioned for that. More

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