She held my wrist and told me how much she'd enjoyed my company over the holidays, and hoped we could do 'it' again sometime, smiling at me as she said this. I agreed with her and meant it, and she asked me to keep in touch about my love life. I knew what she was hinting at, she wanted me to give her the details of my relationships. Finally leaving to board the train she slipped some money into my hand, reminding me she knew how little pocket money I could afford. Then after a hurried kiss, I boarded the train just as it was ready to leave, and from the window watched her standing on the platform waving goodbye as the Train left the station. The next morning I felt different, as doubts started to plague me, while I admit to having enjoyed what had happened to me yet it also scared me. I had butter flies in my stomach as it occupied my mind as I sat there trying to eat some breakfast. Mother told me she had some errands she wanted me to do for her, and in a way I felt. The artwork and posters reflected the decadence of the roaring twenties, as did the furniture and general feel of the place. It was sophisticated and showy, but not ostentatious and over done. It was a well put together room.“Would you like a drink?” asked Owen. “I have white wine in the fridge, and I do believe there is apricot brandy somewhere, along with scotch.”“Scotch, please,” Luca replied, settling into a deep leather couch. Before him on the wall was a large nude portrait of a raven-haired 1920s woman, wearing nothing but a jeweled and feathered band around her head. She was a svelte figure; small, almost flat tits and a small, plump ass. She was a gem.“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Owen asked, coming back into the room and handing Luca his glass of scotch. “A friend found her at a deceased estate. Apparently, she’d been sitting in the attic collecting dust. Frances has her home now,” Owen said proudly.“The name suits her.”“It does rather, doesn’t it?” Owen smiled. Still standing,.
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