It was a simple case of supply and demand economics. What sold before the ‘Crash’ wasn’t going to sell now and yet it was still being ordered and then eventually thrown away or taken home by the workers. She could see how James, in his private, desperate hell and depending on others, would let something like that easily slip by. It was close to two in the morning when she had finished drawing up her list of items to be discontinued. She kissed him, without a sound, bringing her tongue out, circling him, opening her mouth, slowly taking him in, tasting his warm and slightly damp skin. She drew her head back as he started to push… ‘Wha…. hmmm…’ ‘Bethany Rose, wake up, dear, you have to go to bed. C’mon, let me help you.’ She let him help her up and walk with her up the stairs. Eliza had been asleep for hours and to wake her would wake the children. Breaking all sense of propriety, he went into the room with her, turned down the bed and watched her lay down on the sheets. He covered. " "Relax, Barbara. Enjoy the show." Robert merely increased his gentle pull. He started to stroke Hank's shoulder the way Hank had many times in the past with his dates and proceeded to massage Hank's neck. There was little Hank could do in the theater except endure the attention. Robert finally took his arm from Hank's shoulder, but there was no relief. Robert merely took Hank's hand and held it on his lap. There Hank was, holding hands with another man in a crowded theater, and there was nothing he could do. His only solace was that the table prevented anyone on the stage from seeing below his waist and the high back of the booth prevented anyone behind them from seeing anything at all. Only Jeanette and Peter could see what was happening. Jeanette appeared amused. Peter was envious. After a little while, Robert relaxed Hank's hand only to move his hand to Hank's skirted knee. Slowly and gently he started to gather the skirt raising the hem a little at a.
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