It was the new issue ofEsquire. One of the articles promoted on the cover in large type was:"Tracking Down Ann Coulter."The woman looked up. At sixty ...ears old, it didn't appear as if she hadadded a pound to the lanky six-foot frame that had graced the covers ofa string of best-selling books and flashed across millions of televisionscreens. Her hair was still long, but now mostly gray, and was pulledback into a pony tail held by a simple rubber band. She had crow's feetat her eyes, and just a. “I’ll take them to the master bedroom for you. Ms. Jaworski arrived a few minutes ago. You’ll find her in the great room. Kenton will take you there.”I nodded and followed Greg into the house where we were met by Kenton, the butler, who at 6’2” with an athletic build, looked like he could play safety or tight end for the Bears.“Good afternoon, Sir. I’ll take you to Ms. Jaworski. Is there anything I can get for you now?”“Sparkling water with a lime would be nice.”“Ms. Spurgeon instructed us to. You're beautiful!" From my position standing in the middle of the room, I smiled at him, took the step back to him, leaned over with my hands on my knees and softly kissed him on the lips. "Thank you." I turned around quickly then and resumed my seat across the small room, picking up my beer and quickly draining the tall glass. "You certainly are hard to convince," I said breathlessly, rearranging the hem of the skirt to show as little of my legs as possible. "I try very hard. You. M.? How screwed up is that going to make your schedule? You might ruin your agenda for days! Besides, are you in fact entirely certain that only forty-five minutes every six months is entirely adequate for your physical needs? No ... don't even answer that question! I really don't want to know." Trust me!" Chet continued. "You don't stand the slightest chance of actually having to court, let alone marry, any of these women. We're going to be in up to our necks with gold diggers, fortune.