‘Now I want to know what you were thinking of. Or I should perhaps ask who?’ She quickly lowered her gaze to the floor, standing there between his...strong hands. Now her shame would peak, she was sure of it. But to be anything else but truthful was out of the question. ‘You, Raoul. I was thinking of you.’ Her whispering voice could hardly be heard but she felt the way he twitched and knew he heard her. ‘I knew it’, he mumbled to himself. Then he let go of the firm grip of her and raised her face. It is Dr Fletcher isn't it?'Where did she get that from? I hadn't attended the ceremony and told hardly anyone.'Yes, as a matter of fact, but it's of no consequence.'Lauren's face took on a surprised expression.Even through the theatre PA system I could recognise her voice.'What makes you give up on a project?'I know the significance of the question, even if the audience doesn't. For the first time I was struggling for an answer. Lauren came to my aid and snatched up the microphone.'He never. He said it was totally fine with him, he called the public relation officer and told her to make the needed arrangements with me, she told me there was nothing much to do, except when everybody leaves I needed to look the main door of the company management offices, even while being inside.She had also warned me that later on the cleaning contractor staff, mostly one person who already has the keys to the office building, would come in using his or her keys to enter, and they would lock it. And I had definitely never known that so many images could surge full-blown into my head: erotic, disturbing, intense images, things I wanted to do, to taste, to try. Here, in Italy, I seemed to want them all. At once. Now.I stood leaning against the frame of an open, floor-to-ceiling window of the quaint old hotel where we were staying, looking down onto a sidewalk café just across a narrow lane from our hotel. I had thrust one sandaled foot between the narrow, widely-spaced bars below the.