Finishing her coffee, Helena remarked “My Bill.”Fred looked beaten but took the defeat well. “OK this time. Next time I will organise.”“OK.�...� replied Helena, “Ready to go for a walk?”Helena got up from the table and spoke to the cashier, “Thank you for a brilliant meal and complements to the chef. Keep the change as a tip.” Fred joined her and walked out of the restaurant.“Hang on, how did you pay for the meal?” queried Fred.“I prepaid, the tone in your voice, when you called, sounded like you. Quickly, she got on, realizing instantly, that the train was completely packed. She would have to make due with the end corridor of the car. But more people got in. She stood next to the other door, scared that it might open unexpectedly, but grateful for the extra air from the open window.She was pushed harder against the door as more people got on and they crowded around her. She was pushed away from the door towards the corner and against a rather handsome man."Sorry," she murmured as she. I arrived early morning at the station to receive her and on seeing her after such a long time, my feelings again surfaced again.I hugged her, she blushed on my eagerness and joy and we talked as I drove back home. I had made my room comfortable for her stay and arranged for my self to sleep in the sitting room couch. I had emptied a part of my cupboard for her to use. When she went for her bath, I started to unpack her suitcase to place her clothes neatly in the cupboard. Her smell, her. Especially at his elderly age, now 77-years-old, he’d need a staff of maids and butlers to maintain the massive home and see to his and his wife’s needs. One would think, especially at his advanced age that he’d want to go smaller instead of bigger. Only, Angelo Mozilo was a man with an ego as big as his mansion. Jennifer couldn’t believe her eyes when she walked up the stairs. A longshot, she was right in her intuition to go to the open house. Not expecting to see him, Mr. Mozilo was sitting.