The room belonged to young woman named Ashley, who of which, Fawnie had been in several altercations with. She grinned as the door opened. Looking ar...und, it appeared that no one was around. Score! She’d close the door behind her and began rummaging around in search of a laptop. Once she found it, the grin would widen into an almost toothy smile. The mischievous coed would tap at the keyboard until the screen lit up. Her giddy mood would shift into one of annoyance when she was presented with. But look, if you're serious, I can find someone willing to pay good money to, uh, enjoy such a fine, lovely young girl as yourself."She snorted. Fawn no longer thought of herself as a young girl. She was a woman, a lady about town who knew the score. If only Jack would acknowledge the fact, things might be less strained all the time.Still, she loved the man. And he was doing things for her. No one else ever had. He was arranging for the car her parents refused her. That showed who really cared. No sign of a bra, although it was possible that I just couldn't see far enough. I was intrigued.I quickly looked back at her face; she was asking me if she was doing the sample problem correctly. Good thing she wasn't much for eye contact, or I'd be caught looking down her shirt. I gave her a little redirection in her work, and she resumed scribbling. I noticed that as she worked, the fingers of her left hand were idly playing with one of the lower buttons on her blouse. It was going to be a. The only thing worse I thought I could sing right now was "Yesterday" and I didn't intend to go there either.I was nearly ready for my first little concert to be over by now and I nearly sang them Gary P. Nunn's classic "London Homesick Blues" but though I loved the song I always got sad myself when I sang it. Not because of the song but because it made me miss the Armadillo, Castle Creek, and half a dozen bars in Austin were a few years ago you could go get drunk and listen to some damned good.
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