‘. . . Fontana . . . Giorgini . . . Valentino . . . Armani . . . Ongaro . . .’No. This was definitely Squoot. Her eyes were rolling up, her feet...twitching.In desperation I called the desk: ‘. . . Segna . . . Sicons . . . Gucci . . . Versace . . . – size eight, as many colors as you have, stiletto. They must be fresh in the box. Don’t knock, just roll the cart inside the door, next to our chair. You’ll recognize it. Pronto! Pronto! Prego!Seizing Squoot’s newest pair of Miu Miu, I fanned. He couldn’t help but notice how much she took after her mother. Jim remembered just how beautiful that his wife Beverly was at her age. Ashley’s dress stopped at mid thigh like her mother’s and her neck line was squared off but showed three- fourths of her young vibrant breasts. Jim snapped out of his trance and said, “Hi Princess, I missed you. How have you been?” Jim walked into her embrace and Ashley wrapped her arms around her father and kissed him on the cheek. Jim felt her breasts. More

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