M. but neither of us came up with much else useful that could be done. She suggested that I go see Brodine at some point, which seemed to be a good idea, but there probably wasn't going to be much he either would or could tell me that I didn't already know. And nothing else worth mentioning occurred to either of us.So I went back to bed. I'd slept so long and hard I doubted I'd be able to do much more, but it was a good idea to get myself back on a normal waking/sleeping schedule. To my surprise I nodded off fairly soon and didn't wake until nearly 8:00.The room had a coffee-maker, and I got it cranking while I brushed my teeth. Breakfast was next on the agenda, and I again ordered room service. While I was waiting I called the office and gave them a song and dance about a possible case of the chicken pox. OK, it was a little far-fetched, but nobody argued and it was agreed that for the rest of the week at least I'd work "at home." I told them to contact me on my cell if and as they. Selecting a table seemingly at random we sat side by side on a bench as I crossed and uncrossed my legs, the skirt riding higher with each action. J had left nothing to chance, he had obviously been in and checked all the angles. It was one of those booths with two small padded benches and a thin table between; aimed at drinking not eating. Where I sat , my legs directly reflected to one end of the bar, but hidden from everywhere else. Two City guys in suits sipping beers checked me out, smiling at me; Pete and Alex as it turned out. I did that flirty thing; running my hands through my hair, smiling at them, wriggling my body and shoulders back. With the hook baited J excused himself to the toilet, knowing that the guys were not going to approach whilst he was there. It wasn’t long before the two of them wandered over and made pleasant conversation. J returned and invited them to sit in the bench opposite us. ”Hi, guys, of course you can join us, we were looking for someone who.
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