Over the years, I'd gotten rather good at foreshadowing in my writings, and Jim was a proponent of the technique — when used correctly and sparingly...More than once, I saw him go back to reread something — that worried me a bit, but he dropped it and said, "Mr. Michael Knox — that was the best fucking piece of fiction that I've read in twenty years — you, and I are going to be both rich and famous." Jim, I wouldn't mind being rich, but fame is a bitch — you can have the fame," I replied."That's. I think it would be best to have a bit of privacy for this discussion."As she moved to the windows and drew the curtains, Linda noticed her eyes in the glass. Clearly, she was covertly watching Linda as she sat. She steadied herself on the edge of the desk, and lowered herself into one of the available chairs. She noticed that the chairs were low enough to keep her a bit off balance. She also noticed that Miss James' chair was slightly elevated, to allow her to look down on most visitors.As she. He turns you on, he's great in bed — you told me that. And he's been cool at work — he hasn't told anyone. I don't understand why you want to stop seeing him."Jen frowned at what her husband had just said. "Because I shouldn't be 'seeing anyone' except you! You're my husband. You don't want me to just screw Steve. You want me to date him, have a relationship with him! Don't you see that that's not a good idea? Don't you see the risk? If I date Steve — if I have a relationship with him — I might. She flitted away. They danced and danced and danced some more.Masked men and women dotted the floor, dancing around them. They were surrounded by hundreds, and by nobody at all. Faceless. Timeless. Mysterious. A sensory feast.When they took a break for a drink and appetizers — there was caviar, pates, cheese, oysters, shrimp, sushi, beignets, and more — Lilly said to Matt, “You never told me you could dance!”“I can’t,” Matt said, and Lilly’s brow furrowed. “Or I couldn’t. I’ve been taking.