She thanked him and walked to the dining table with the mountain of trays, “Can you please locked the door?” Holly asked.“Sure,” Maria thanked...the delivery boy and closed the door.“I am famished, feel welcomed to join in, girl,” Holly declared. The futa sat at the white table opened a tray and took her first slice.“Is this the meeting you were talking about?” Maria wondered as she walked over.“Sure is, a girl like me has to eat, you know.”“I have a million questions,” Maria said. She tied her. ’ I would summarize it for you, but if you have not read, you really ought to. I am sure in this day and age of computers and e-readers you can find it somewhere for free. Thing is that story was written well over a hundred a years ago, so I guess all this fuss about Christmas being too commercial is nothing new. And like the characters in that story, we have made it to the point of laughing about this fuss…mostly. So you know I love my sewing machine. And I will never forget the year that my. He smiled, something soft and enigmatic in his features and I so hoped I'd planned our weekend right. I turned back to my painting.Blues, yellows, greens; white and deep cerulean. Afterword reminded me of Jesse, he was the eyes of friends, the twin with the gift for his brother. So I was painting my present to him. I hadn't travelled the world, hadn't headed out west and fetch up again, but when I looked at Jesse I felt my world fixed in his eyes, and too him, apparently I was special. So I. The door opened with a buzz.The inside of the large entrance hall was nice enough. Walls painted cream and potted plants dotted around with plenty of seating as expected. The ground floor housed a packaging company, with a advertising firm on the first. Neither were what Mia was here for.Mia got the elevator upto the second floor where she was greeted by Andy, a tall slim man with brown hair and kind eyes. A lot like Don who was her boyfriend... Who for now was very much in her bad books. “Mia,.