‘He needs someone. He’s gonna kill himself out here.’ ‘Doesn’t look like he’s had a proper meal since before the funeral.’ ‘Housekeepe... or girlfriend?’ Emily asked, looking at Roger. He leaned back against the counter, sipping his tea. ‘Both I should think.’ Emily nodded. She’d done this before, for other clients. Artists could be so damned single minded when they got going. When they were done, the high of creativity led to depressing lows. Drugs, booze, womanizing, they all reared their ugly. The smell and the taste just drives him up the wall. Before we were going out, he once got dared to go into the closet and go down on me at a party. I was freaked out. I had never been eaten before, and frankly, I thought the whole thing was sick and disgusting. We went into the closet and they shut on the red light. Bathed in red he stepped toward me with a hungry look. “We don’t have to do this you know, we can just say we did.” I offered. “You don’t want to?” He asked looking puzzled.“I. More

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