"Victoria leaned even further to me, so she came to my left ear. "I really am, even worse than she thinks," she whispered, before leaning away. "Well,...shit, sis, you bagged a clean-cut dude. Matt, did you trim that beard just for me?" she asked, feeling it with both hands. "Yes, it feels freshly cut, so it is prickly. You didn't have to do that for me; I'm just her sister, I'm not Lita Ford." Too bad, I wanted to hear Ozzy Osbourne stories." I can certainly tell you stories about Molly here,. The club was very near to Canary Wharf and Black Cab's abounded in the area now. Not so a few years ago when they would be as rare as Hen's teeth. No one living in Docklands at that time could afford a cab fare. But the influx of so many financial service types with cash burning holes in their pockets had changed all that. The cab took me back to Old Street and my office. I sat at my desk and stared into nothing. Nothing is what my life promised to be from now on. In that future, like an. More

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