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” His eyes were on her breasts, Sienna realised. Was he tempted? At their first meeting, she recalled how she suspected his motives.She said nothing, and Elga asked, “Have there been any further dreams?”These were easier questions than their first meeting, “None,” she told him.“Have you masturbated on any fantasies?”“After what happened just two days ago? No.”He reached into his pants pocket, withdrew a wallet and produced a card. “That’s my cell-phone number. Call me if you need help, advice—anything.”To Sienna’s unexpected dismay, he slid out of the booth, took her hand, kissed it, and said, “You are a lovely lady, and so good to talk to.” Watching his back disappear out of the side door, Sienna was wondering why she was bothered. Was it because he had given her a shorter time? Or could it be something else? Don’t even, consider that, she warned herself.For the next two mornings after their meeting, Sienna woke up just a little disappointed that there were no hanging memories of. If a year’s harvest didn’t yield enough to cover the cost of staying in business, they made good money in the ring to cover the expenses. I had been trained in the art of fisticuffs by both of them, much to the disapproval of my mom and grandmother. I lost count of how many times my dad and grandfather caught shit for training me to fight, from mom and grandma at the dinner table. The memory brought a smile to my face. My mom’s words had stayed with me. Every time I told her I wanted to be heavy weight champion of the world, just like John L. Sullivan. And, every time, she would remind me that he had died with only fifteen dollars to his name. “Who’s next?” a voiced boomed out of the alley. I made my way through the crowd to take a look at who was in the circle waiting for an opponent. He was a big man. Six foot-six, full beard, bald, thick muscular arms, thick around the waist and a neck as thick as a brahma bull’s. “How much?” I called out to the barker. The crowd became.
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