”“Name it.”“We do this again sometime.”“Deal,” I say, spitting on my hand before offering it to him to shake.“And I had you down as th... type that swallows,” he replies, the mischief creeping back into his voice.We drive back to his house in near silence, both of us exhausted from the day’s events. As we pull up, he quickly leans over and kisses my cheek.“See you tomorrow, beautiful,” he whispers, before opening the door and getting out.I’m smiling all the way home. I cannot believe that my plan. The lighting was an eerie blue with green and red flashing projections crossing the ceiling intermittently. ‘One of my boyfriends is a lighting design engineer.’ The entire room seemed to be pulsating just a tad – not unnervingly so – with music, mostly bass, unrecognizable to Troy. The musicality seemed to improve as they walked to the circular bed in the middle of the room. ‘The sound is the work of a boyfriend who is a sound design engineer?’ ‘She giggled. I do recognize you are surprisingly. His jeans are snug, and now I’ve lost track of everything else, because he fills them out so perfectly, I know I’ve been staring too long. “Do I pass inspection?” He asks with a grin. “I think you’ll do,” I reply, deadpan, finally having found my own sense of humour. There’s a moment of silence, as he stands in my doorway and we look at each other. I get this funny feeling of a point of no return – that with his first single step into the room, there’s no turning back. “Do you want to talk?”. What we need is a plan."The following Wednesday saw Ted Arnold in Atlanta finishing up a training session with a group of programmers. He was amazed at how quickly they picked up on the quirks of the new program and he began to see that his presence was not going to really be required for the entire three days. He would be able to finish up the session by the end of the day on Thursday and perhaps he could get a late plane out of the airport. He would be home a full day early and he had a few.