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Then he pulls me up, and holds me tight in his arms for a while. I’m sure he can feel my heart beat. He lets me go and lifts me up, putting me on the counter top. He looks me in the eyes and says, “We have been chatting for a few months now. And I know that you want more also, because you said you can offer more, but with your husband it’s a sad case. The drinking and so is taking over. Am I right?” he asks, still holding me close. I just nod, for I feel as if I have betrayed my husband in chatting with Nick. “Then I think it’s in order if we work on that fantasy you told me of, some time back. Do you remember what it was?” I just shake my head in denial this time. He looks me in the eye and asks again. “Don’t you remember?” I do remember, but in person, I will never say it again. I reply, “No, I don’t. Maybe you can remind me.” He says, “Sure you want me to tell you?” I whisper, “Please do.” But in my mind I’m saying, show me rather. As if reading my mind, he says, “I’d much rather. But she had never been to this bar and sat at this table with this man, and it wasn't the bar or even this Lodge that was invading her mind. She sensed more to their surroundings. They weren't alone. But it wasn't the patrons enjoying wine and jazz by candlelight that were there with them. It was a presence greater than the bar they sat in. There were voices chanting and rhythmic drums that were not coming from the band. The flashes of light popping into her vision were definitely the type of flicker and shadow cast by a roaring fire, yet the fireplace beside the stage was little more than a muted glimmer behind paned glass. How could any of this be? She turned to look at Damian, who was already gazing at her, as if waiting for her to acknowledge that she was seeing the same thing as he was. There was no doubt in either of their minds that they were experiencing the same vision. Was it the wine, though neither of them had more than a glass each? Damian lifted his hand from her thigh,.
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