“Richard, when Mr. Schmidt said he was going to double your salary, do you think he meant it?” my girl said.“I don’t think he says anything he...doesn’t mean, Rebecca.”“That’s $160 thousand dollars a year, isn’t it?”“Yes, my dear ... over $3,000 a week. More money than I can ever spend, that’s for sure.”“Oh, I can help you spend it, if you would like?” she said, coming over and sitting on my lap.“I am already putting it mostly in the bank. I have set up an account to buy a car from, when I’m old. . I hope it’s making love.“Whatever you want to do...” I started.“What do YOU want?” she asked bashfully.“Mimi, you’re my cutie. I can think of a million things...”“I want you to LOVE me, Tommy. Can you do that?”“I already do love you...”Her hand touched my chest, started downward. “Physically. Love me that way, too.”“Baby,” I said gently, “you don’t have to do this to prove you love me. I believe you.”“It’s for me too, Tommy. I’ve never made love...”What could I say to that? I kissed her, a. More

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