Lena had called me sweet. Others had called me nice. Was that was I was turning into, a nice guy? Did I want that? Among my old rich-brat acquaintance..., nice had been an invective, and it certainly was not seen as an asset in the world of business. So, fuck yeah, I wanted to be a nice guy. A bit scary to have that for identity though, since it leaves you open to criticism. As an official bastard you just don’t care. You also do not improve. Lena stood close to me – very close to me – and talked. "The sound of car doors interrupted their little get together. The four quickly dressed and went out to the porch. Kim and Sally put their new suits in the pocket of the jeans they had put back on.Outside, the girls saw that their brothers had sleeping bags under their arm and a couple of bags in their hands."What are those for?" Sally asked her brother."Jack and I are going to sleep on the boat tonight," he told his sister, "and you two have to be ready to go at six if you want to fish with. More

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