Raging, part of you wants to barge in to the cubicle and tell Emma what you think of her. You want to fly off the handle and let her feel some of the ...pain she had just caused, but you are too proud to do that. Staggering away from the closed door, you bring one of the bottles to your mouth. Getting legless, that is the answer you believe.. So you take up a position at the bar and down the two bottles you hold in your hands. A further six bottles follow, with you neither noticing or caring if. Not you, Elaine, but you, Elli. 'The Ideal Girlfriend' -- isn't that what your website says? 'The Ultimate Intimate Experience'? 'The Companion of Your Dreams'? Shall I go on? Shall I remind you of the pictures of you on that website? The swimsuit shots? The lingerie shots? The nude shots? And in every damn one of them, you look no older than, well, my age, twenty-five. Greg got just tipsy enough to spill all his beans. He said he checks in on your site several times a week. And he. Which made no sense, since there was noway that, if he had seen Beth before, he would haveever forgotten her. She was that "choice."George recovered his wits a bit and walked up to Beth,extending his hand to shake hers.Instead, Beth gave George a sweet hug that includedpressing her huge headlights against the boy's chest. They were almost against his chin, since, with heels,Beth was over six-feet tall to George's five-footeight.That hug, the intoxicating smell of her perfume, andthe feel of her. One of the three was clearly the leader. I turned to face him and said we didn’t want trouble. He said trouble was free and we could have all we wanted, then he laughed at his own joke. Half wit. I settled my weight. Mr. Leader shook his head and lifted his shirt to show a .45 revolver, as if I missed the bulge. Once he showed the piece, he stood upright, so the bulge was more pronounced. This ruined his balance, interfered with his ability to draw, but it was not the dumbest thing he did. He.