I’m a client aren’t I? My wives always join me, at pain of death.”“They’re that good?”“Like old fashioned cocktail parties. Like stepping back into the days of elegant soirees. Sounds kind of stiff, but they’re really cool.”“I can’t imagine Jeff in a tux,” Liang giggled.“Believe it or not, he enjoys it as much or more than any of us. Partly because he gets to show off his wife, whom he very much loves. Partly because he enjoys the high level of discourse that the setting seems to bring out. Everyone breaks out their wit.”“When’s the next one?”“The beginning of winter. She’s a bit of a pagan, so they’re celebrations of solstices and equinoxes.”“So the bosses version of a Christmas party.”“Nope. Not about Christmas, except as stolen from the pagans. Cassie organizes an office party, so the editors can get drunk and embarrass themselves. Of course the writers come get drunk too.”“Anyway,” Liang started again, “I visited Jeff because I wanted to ask him about publishing your poetry and. “Beautiful,” I said, and picked out the books from my bag. Mr. Denning loosed his tie, and grabbed a pen. He started teaching me. A thought of him asking me to take off my clothes, and bend me over the bed had came in my mind when he told me in the class room that, he can teach me some important topics at his home. Mr. Denning was a gentleman, and he didn’t ask me to pull out my boobs for him. “And this topic is very important and very easy. Just remember this equation…” Mr. Denning was teaching me, and I started loosing my concentration. I was looking at him, the way his hand was moving, the way he was talking, a little sweat on his forehead. He looked tired but still hot. “Lily?” he called me. “Yes,” I replied. “You got it?” he asked looking at some equation in the book. I was again starring at him. We were alone in the house, his wife died two years ago, so he must be feeling lonely, and I could help him to get away with his loneliness. “Lily, where is your mind?” Mr. Denning.
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