Then I leaned back and looked into his eyes. I suppose they were probably conker brown once, but now they were a soft grey with a slight green tinge. ... liked them. We smiled at each other. His wrinkles folded into deep creases.“Being pounced on outside your house was real lucky,” I chuckled, as I slipped off his lap. He walked me home, but wouldn’t come in.***It was my turn again the next week. I’d done a stir-fry with courgettes, carrot, bean sprouts, and onion, with a few bits of bacon. I’d. Gemma was more than just a sillygirl's name to me, it stood for all I had achieved. "No, I am Gemma," I muttered under my breath as I marched into my hotelroom. I didn't have any time to worry about the ramblings of a crazy person.There was a decadent party tonight to celebrate Gemma Taylor.There were no parties for Michael Taylor. And certainly no parties forKate Draffen.While not in a blind rage I was blind with a flury of other emotions. Ipicked up my phone and scrolled down my list of. That was the important part, you would pass her without noticing her. Her hair was a mousy brown. Her faced showed the extra thirty or so pounds. The ones which skipped her breasts, and went right to her hips. She probably had thick thighs. Which explained the baggy men’s cut pant suit she wore. She was, to put it simply, extremely forgettable.“You get right down to the bottom line,” she said to me. “I like that. I know it’s an uphill battle, but I expect that you can find enough dirt to hang. He’s supposed to become one of the great quarterbacks that come from Mizzou. So you think you can sue him for what? Did he beat you up?”“No, Ma’am, he tried to kill me with the Chief of Police there with me. He had attacked me before that, but I pushed him away each time he attacked. The police used a ruse to get me to leave with them, and I ended up being locked up in a holding cell without food until the next afternoon. There’s more to the story at the police station, but the important part.