" Naomi, Elliot's mother began, but he did. He shook the young woman's hand, bedazzled. He didn't even glance at Sarah.Sarah wouldn't have noticed. Her eyes had been caught by Sophie, the tall, svelte mulatto. Sophie studied the young woman, appraising her like a prime steed as Marjorie hoped. Marjorie may have been biased, loving Sarah. But she'd seen how photogenic and unique her daughter's lover proved to be. And she noticed Sophie's lusty gaze when they met at the job interview. Marjorie offered Sarah to Sophie as a bribe to get the job. She needed that extra incentive to push past Naomi's resistance. If she got the job and the time together, she'd make friends with the head seamstress and mother of the boy genius."Have you ever modeled?" Sophie asked Sarah, sitting beside her at the table.Sarah chuckled, "Me?"Marjorie smiled proudly and handed Sophie a photograph of Sarah looking amazing in the dress and make up Marjorie created. The image thrilled Sophie. She wanted Sarah. She'd. Nobody complained. Something should be good for those kids.Supper didn’t taste as good without Eric, and -- considering how it tasted ordinarily -- that was saying something. She got up to her room and collapsed. With no patients to tend, the question from twelve or thirteen hours before surfaced. If Eric would do anything she insisted on, why didn’t she win when they wrangled? Part of it was that he was slick. Even his daughter at six was a conniver. But she’d evaded Valerie easily enough. Well, she’d put the onus on Eric and Mrs. Grant. Let them deny Valerie pizza. Why was it so hard to evade Eric? Even now, she was wondering about the gift he’d bought her.She wasn’t his kept woman, though. If he wanted to repay the orgasms he received with the ones she received, that kept them equals. Even if she received a greater number and probably more profound ones, that was still mutuality. But fur coats and diamonds were beyond the pale. And she knew Eric well enough to know he hadn’t.
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