Sitting down, she introduces herself as Steff. I respond automatically with “Allison”. She smiles again, sending a charge tickling down my spine. ... lean back and eye her over, fantasizing naughty thoughts I’d do with her. Our coffee arrives. We drink, mostly in silence broken by few attempts at conversation. I pretend to look around the coffee shop, my eyes glancing over her at every opportunity and catching her looking at me more than once. I detect a slight grin across her face as if she. "He needs to finish the painting," Mother explained with a wink."Who is that?" asked my sister. When my mother told her, her eyes went wide."Do you want to meet him?" asked my mother."No. What would I say?" Show him your drawings," said Mother."They're like children's finger painting to him," said my sister. Mother grabbed them and went to the artist and unrolled them. The artists gathered around the drawings, pointing and commenting like debating art critics."Where's the gallery?" asked. More

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