“You mean, she’s a...” “Yes!” interrupted Emily. “Couldn’t you tell when you met her?” I shook my head. Emily feigned a look of disbe...ief. “She prefers the soft touch,” whispered Emily, beginning to stroke her fingers over my wrists and slightly up my arm under my jacket. “Some of us do.” “You mean, you....” “Yes,” Emily interrupted again. “I prefer the soft touch, too. Don’t you?” My body was beginning to respond to Emily’s playful stroking and her provocatively whispered words. I knew. “Double Tree Boston,” Rueben announced. “Buck and a quarter per mile,” the cab driver shot back. The cabby knew how to dress but the accent could not keep him from seeming lower-middle class to an American. Rueben could not help as he glanced towards the nameplate. He grinned slightly as he saw that it was ‘Ishmael’ and he was reminded of the literary figure. “Yes, yes. I’m in a bit of a hurry to make a conference at three this afternoon, so as long as you get me there, we have a deal.” “Yes,. More

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