John writes how he confidently takes her hand as they leave the restaurant and how she leans into his body warming him. In John’s fantasy there are no obstacles, no setbacks, no wrong lines and no missed chances. When you write your own fantasy you do not put your foot in your mouth or wear the wrong color jacket. You are gallant and sophisticated instead of hesitant and boring. John types and quickly squires Marella back to his large country home. Marella has no qualms and is very attracted to this confident and witty successful older man. His tales of travel have dazzled her and their common interests intrigue her; she’s so attracted to his eyes, his smile. John imagines pouring Marella some more wine. He thinks of her smile, her laughter and holding her hand. He thinks of slipping his arm around her tapered waist and resting it on her hips. John imagines how Marella would look, standing, her legs crossed at the ankles, looking intently at one of his David Roberts lithographs and. “Shouldn’t we turn off here? That’s the departures terminal.”“Nah, I’m going in the back way. It’s faster and less congested.”Em glanced at Amanda and raised her brow. “I never knew there was a back entrance. This I gotta see.”They drove past the arrival and departure gates before Amanda turned on a small access road which led to a guardhouse gate. Em noted the sign. “Private airfield?”“That’s why no one knows about it, you can only get in if you’re authorized.”Em shrugged and waited as they approached the gate.The guard was about to say something when he recognized her. His entire face lit up. “Hey, Mandy. Your flight is set and warming up.”“Hi, Earl. How’s the wife and kids.”Earl was a large man with pudgy cheeks but a lot of muscle supplemented by a generous dollop of fat. He wore his slightly graying hair in a pompadour, and the laugh lines around his eyes crinkled as he conversed with Amanda. “They’re doing well. The kids love the album you sent. They send their love. They’re.
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