Cowboy boots. She couldn’t see him. He wanted to talk to her. Just talk. And he did. First at the catering table, and then, over the next few days, coffee and dinner. On her last night there, they kissed. They both wanted more, but held back. Neither said why. Distance. Since then there had been a few phone calls and emails. These though, they tried to avoid. Instead there were letters. They both felt the same way about the written word expressed on paper. More soulful, more romantic. And yet patient and subtle. He could make out farmhouses and ploughed fields. Then silos and cars. Eventually even cattle. As the pressure of descent came over his head, he turned from the window and stared ahead, chewing hard on his own teeth. He walked out the gate and across the lobby of the airport towards the glass automated sliding doors. Funny how even in what would be considered a stick state back in New York, you could always find airports trying to compete for a top modern impression. Once he. ” She drops to her hands, sticking her ass into the air. “Whether you like it or not, you are a male and males are servants not masters. Do not come to me about any of this again unless you have news worthy of my ears.” She looks over her shoulder at the two pets and says, “Continue.”Brady stays long enough to watch the two slaves attach themselves to his mother before he leaves. As he walks through the hall, scenarios run through his head, ranging from plans to fulfill Cyra’s orders to overthrowing the woman from power. Nothing he thinks of really hit their mark with him. Between his loss of his lover and his aspirations for power, he can’t find middle ground. Hatred for his mother pushes him not to grieve for Ivy. He is so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Rob is walking beside him until the man breaks the silence.“I believe you and I have something in common,” Rob says, smiling at the man.Brady is surprised by the man’s presence, but he refuses to let it be known. “What could.
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