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Robyn?" Evelyn asked me, the concern evident in her voice as well as her face. She put a hand on my shoulder and gave a weak smile. "I know this is hard on you." "I'm fine." I told Evelyn with a faint smile of my own. It wasn't exactly true, but I wasn't about to go all weak in the knees and cry my eyes out. Damn it, I may have had the body of a woman but I sure as hell still had as Evelyn would call it, my "macho pride." I looked at Evelyn and then out the living room window, wondering how long until Sammy arrived, yawning as I did so. My first night as a woman hadn't given me the greatest sleep. I'd tossed and turned too much, my unfamiliar curves waking me up every time I rolled onto my stomach to sleep. Fortunately though I did manage to get enough to keep going, even if I would have liked a little more. Then finally she came. Sammy's car pulled into the driveway and a minute later she was inside the house with us. "Here it is." Sammy said hesitantly, holding a very worn. As time passed his focus altered to an appropriate means of noting the approaching birthday of his most able and agreeable secretary. Casting about for a reasonable means of suggesting her value without embarrassing her, he stumbled onto an old recipe for a most elaborate German chocolate cake. Known to be bereft of culinary skill, that is to say, totally incompetent within yards of a kitchen, he nevertheless undertook that means of expression.Fortunately her day fell on a Monday giving him the weekend to work the alchemy of mundane ingredients to gold. One day to gather the fixins, study the process, plan the exercise, screw the courage to the sticking place…the next to do the deed. The intervening night was sleepless , indeed. But on the morrow with the pioneering spirit that conquered countries not to mention space, he set about the shaking, sifting, cracking, separating, stirring, simmering, shredding, basting and whatever else long is lost to memory. Thus in that following.
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“You really need a book on that?”“Yeah,” I said. “Looking into telepathy to be exact. It's for a movie project.”She nodded at me and went back to typing on the computer. I took a deep breath and realized she was wearing some really nice perfume. “Smells nice up here,” I said. “Oh,” she said looking up at me. “That’s me. It’s pretty quiet up here, but I look to be professional.”“Well, you look professional to me.”She smiled, but it was the creepy smile back at you. The kind where you said something wrong, but no idea what. She clacked away and wrote on a pad of paper.“You don’t mind the quiet?” I asked. This time she did look up to me.“No,” she said. “Only thing that makes the job good is the interesting people who rarely make it up here.”“I’m interesting?”“Up to the point, you asked about what you have. Why do you want this for a movie?”“Have a werewolf in my basement, trying to communicate that we want to make it a star.”She laughed. Like actually laughed at the joke.“Yeah, he’s been.

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