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I paid no attention to the meeting that I was late for, I cancelled two appointments that I had later that afternoon and I said goodbye to no one when I left the building at 5:15. All I could think about was Tamsin and butterscotch coffee. The rest of that week passed like a restless dream, a series of vague, unconnected and largely meaningless events revolving around the central mystery of the woman from Artemisia Antiqua. The website turned out to be a very classy setup selling valuable antique artifacts, coins, statuettes, jewels, vases, tribal art and jade from almost every one of the world’s ancient cultures. Her picture was there, smiling enigmatically from the screen of my laptop. Tamsin Thorne, she was one of their specialist consultants and her area of expertise was ancient coins. The rest of the staff were a lot of venerable, old professorial types in their sixties. There was also a ‘team’ photo with all of them together. She was the only woman. Man, did she look out of. Not tonight anyway.”“Are you going to stand here naked all night?”“Yes,” I said. “If you don't like it leave.”“Mom will come back and wonder what the hell is going on,” he said.“Well, I'm not getting dressed. I am in too much agony. I'm going to my room and rub some lotion on then lie on my stomach awhile.”“I guess I'll go up too,” he said.I gathered my clothes and started out. He watched me walk to the door then turned and followed.“I'd never seen one before,” he said. “Not a real one.”“What?”“You know.”“You've seen mine before, dumb-ass. Is your long term memory damaged?”“No.” he said. “It was different then.”“How?” I asked."Well, for one thing, it was unshaven, and I couldn't see it as well." Do you like it this way better?" I asked. “Go on upstairs,” he said. “We can't carry on a conversation with you standing here naked.”I turned and started up the stairs. Then turned to look back. He was looking at my ass.“You're looking at my ass,” I said.“Yes,” he said. “I guess I am.”“You.
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