They were gone about half an hour now and I kept looking towards the door to see Lana come back in but I was facing the bar when I felt her hand on my...back and kiss on my cheek. “Miss me?” she asked.I turned at her and her hair was a little disheveled and lipstick freshly applied and she had that sly smile on her face.“I sure did baby, did you have fun?” I asked breathlessly.“Well, let me tell you that boy can fuck!” She said with a laugh. I felt a rush run through me when she said that. “Where. I led the way into my kitchen, where I rescued the bacon already cooking from the grill, replacing it with some uncooked rashers from my fridge. I converted the cooked bacon into two sandwiches, one for me and the other for Mel.“Help yourself to condiments,” I said as I poured us each a coffee.Mel coated her bacon with a liberal coating of brown sauce. “You’ve got a big house,” she observed.“I’m well paid. Did you make out a list?”Mel handed over a scrap of paper. Her handwriting was. She was talking quite quickly and quietly and nicely now and we joked about how seedy this place, Patong Beach, was.Although we had only been talking for perhaps half an hour the bars were already getting more lively. I was no longer the only punter and the other girls were less openly trying to get some action from me. There were now a steady stream of johns strolling down the path between the bars and the girls reverted to trying to lure them instead. One of them, a talk ugly sun-burned. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ he laughed as he pulled the plastic wrap off the plate. He grabbed two of them then he handed them inside of the car to her. She stared at him and then the cookies. ‘Are those dolcedi fichi?’ she asked as she sniffed at them. ‘Yeah. My sister Amina, makes them for me. They’re my favorite,’ he said sheepishly. ‘Well that’s one thing we have in common. Smeralda couldn’t bake but her younger brother would make them up by the dozens and send them to us. He was a baker.