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" Sophia relaxed. "However," Warren added with a gleam in his eye, "there is a twelve-string Rickenbacker down at Guitar Center I've had my eye on." That's a type of guitar, I take it?" Sophia asked. Warren nodded assent. "How much they cost?" Oh, thirteen hundred dollars." Well, then, dear heart, you just keep your eye on it. Because that's all you're gonna have on it."Warren made mock pain noises. "Fine. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to repair to my recording studio-otherwise known as my bedroom-and write myself a new Country Western hit song entitled, 'I Gave My Love my Heart to Wear Around Her Neck, and She Won't Even Buy Me a New Gee-tar."Sophia hit him with a couch pillow, and then mock-intoned, "So, thus endeth the gooey romantic mush portion of our program."The parents were in stitches by now. Sophia sat up, and said, "That reminds me. I've never seen your bedroom." Thought you wanted to watch the Sox." Ah, they suck if Pedro ain't pitching." OK. Let's go." They got up off. "Well the bleeding'sstopped, pretty much. It's gonna swell up bad by tomorrow. There's somestuff, cream, Tisoch's got that..."She sat back, eyebrows raised at Armand's frantic hand gestures."Something else wrong?" Armand nodded. "What? You can't tell me,but..." Armand reached down and picked up a makeup crayon then bentforward awkwardly until his chained hands could reach the mirror. GETLILA he wrote in lipstick as best he could, then realised Vellawouldn't know who Lila was. Did she know her as Armand? He concentratedfor a moment then smeared out LILA with his hand and replaced it withthe word MASTER. She was kajira and would understand who he wasreferring to."You want me to get your Master?" Armand nodded. "And bring him here?"He nodded again, then thinking furiously, he reached forward again andwrote SECRET on the mirror. "Secret?" Vella mused, looking at themirror then at Armand suspiciously. "This isn't some kind of prank orjoke, is it? No, I can see you're terrified of.
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Reba had always had anything she wanted. Daddy had provided cars, jewelry, and even vetted young men. When she’d chosen Sam Watkins to be her husband, there was never a question that she could have him. Sam was a well-paid part owner of a startup software company that had gone public and had then been acquired by a major player. Sam was still at the company as some kind of fellow or something. The important thing was that he continued Daddy’s tradition of giving her anything she wanted. And she wanted a baby.Things hadn’t been bad until Jocelyn, her best friend and tennis partner, had gotten pregnant. Since then, her society friends had all begun having children. All except her. She’d hesitated a while, afraid of what it would do to her figure. But it soon became apparent that she was losing status with the movers and shakers. She needed a brat.Finally, Sam consented to go to the fertility clinic. He was pretty sure the problem lay elsewhere. Even with the frequency that Reba demanded.

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