“I want to take this as far as you’re comfortable with ... and no further.”“Eric ... I need to know your expectations. What are you looking fo...? A one-night stand? Booty calls? Or something more permanent?”“Not a one-night stand, and I don’t do booty calls. I don’t have a little black book or whatever the smart-phone equivalent is these days. My instinct tells me you’re ... the sort of girl who’s the one for me.”“Your instinct again.”“I’m not fucking with your mind, Helen. I mean it. There’s. It doesn't ring. What do you expect? It's three in the morning - anyone with any sense is in their bed and we don't expect any new admissions until at least 6 o'clock.The time drags by. Four o'clock and the guests are all asleep as far as the video screens show. Every so often one of them will turn in her sleep, pull against her chains or whatever and wake herself up for a few moments. It usually only takes a day or so for them to learn that it ain't no good making a fuss, so they just lie. My friends were there, of course, and we were just getting started on sticking some photographs onto Styrofoam frames when he first gave me a sign. John looked up from the computer he was using to design a poster for the anniversary and grinned. I smiled back. Alright, nothing unusual. I went about my work, unaware that he was still looking at me. When I finally turned around after a few minutes, I saw his eyes on the lower half of my body. It was a hot day and I was dressed in a pair of denim. Someone else was shooting this. Still visible on the wall behind the couch, was what had made me stop in my tracks first. It was a huge but yellowing map of the city. Ever since I was a child, I had seen that map of the city in a living room in my neighborhood. When I went there as a kid with some friends, we’d always try to find our school on the map. I also knew that maps of the city this size were not commonly available in the market. The owner of that house had gotten it specially made,.