A quiet anxiousness has settled over Becca by the time she was leaving the Times downtown office. The glow over the Senator’s change of heart had faded in the light of her own personal issues. She tried Matthew’s number again and again. It went straight to voicemail as it had all day.

Part of her wanted to be angry. She had been so certain that he, of all men, would understand what she was doing, but he had reacted just as she would have predicted any other man to react. With anger. She was bitterly disappointed in him. Then again, perhaps she truly was expecting too much. He had let her know that he was disappointed in her. How many men would be able to accept their girlfriend or spouse was working as an escort? How many would be able to rationalize that to be acceptable? To her, it was a very clear choice, but she was beginning to think she wanted too much from Matthew. Until she could solve that, going home was pointless for her.

One thing was certain. She had no chance of resolving things with Matthew while she was still having sex with other men. That meant she had to retrieve the evidence from the computer in Dimitri's office and close this investigation as quickly as she could or put her relationship in further jeopardy. It was after five by then, and Becca reasoned that she had as good a chance after hours that evening as she did during the obviously clandestine hours of the night. If she were caught now, she could at least try to play it off as if she were looking for him.

Being caught where she did not belong at 3 am, on the other hand, would likely lead to a bullet in her head and a watery grave at the bottom of the Potomac. With her decision made, Becca hailed a cab and gave the driver the directions to Dimitri’s Dream Girls office.

The business offices used by the agency was surprisingly small compared to any of the affiliated brothels or clubs run by the Russian Mob. Aside from Anna and her staff, who were always on hand to schedule client appointments, the offices were largely closed by six that night. Becca had become a favorite of Dimitri’s so no one gave her a second glance as she confidently strode through the door. Once past the front desk, she quickly found he way to Dimitri’s private office.

Ten minutes tops. She had gone over the instructions the IT guy from the paper had given her again and again until she was certain she could hack Dimitri’s computer in her sleep. This was going to be a piece of cake if the passwords were still valid. She had four to cycle through, but maybe she would hit it right with the first one. It was the second one that worked.

The wait while his computer booted up seemed interminably long and her patience was wearing thin. “Come on, come on,”  she urged as its silicon mind digested the codes she had entered. Finally, the files she needed appeared, and she immediately began transferring them to the USB drives she had brought with her.

The files themselves were written in Cyrillic of course and her Russian was not up to the task of understanding any details. Names, however, were a different matter. Becca was shocked as name after famous name, written in English, most of them including many attached files of pictures and videos. This was going to be seismic and shake the power elites of Washington, government, the law enforcement and justice systems, the media and so many more to their foundations.

The wait for the progress bar to lengthen across the screen was one of the hardest that Becca could remember, If she were caught with a flash drive in Dimitri's computer, no amount of slick talking or seductive behavior would save her. When the files were finally copied onto her handful of flash drives, she slipped them into her purse and quickly covered her tracks as she had been tutored to do and then shut down Dimitri’s computer.

Her confidence was growing as she began to make her way out of the office. With these drives she had everything she needed and that meant being done with the agency. Nerves still ran through her like an electric current, but escape was now literally feet away. It was the gruff sound of a familiar man's voice in the lobby that caused her heart to leap and skip a couple of beats..

The man’s accent was thicker than she had heard it last, as it was tinged with a vodka induced slur. “Rebecca is here? With Dimitri, you mean?”

“No, sir.” Anna responded. “I haven’t seen Mr. Palimnik since early today. I think she is alone.”

It was Vlad, and a drunken Vlad at that. Becca felt a shot of adrenaline with the fight or flight reflex. This was trouble and she either had to talk her way out of it somehow or blow her cover. Vlad was already like an angry bear where she was concerned having been not only rejected by her, but also ridiculed by her when he had twice demanded a blow job. The first time she laughed at the idea as she gazed at his penis and the second time she had been rescued by Dimitri and sauntered off with him. She heard him stumbling down the hall and backed into the office again.

“Shit!” Right about then being caught by Vlad in Dimitri’s office was her very definition of bad luck. She felt the small bag full of drives in her purse and cursed again, terrified of what this man would do if found them in her possession. Excuses and possible explanations filtered through her mind but none of them could plausibly explain why a supposed prostitute would be carrying a half dozen flash drives in convenient proximity to Dimitri’s computer.

No, he would search her thoroughly then, roughly and as intimately as possible, she was sure. He would certainly find her notebook. “Dammit.”

She had just seconds now and she took the bag of drives and stuffed the page from her notebook inside. Her eyes darted around the office, searching for… that.

Displayed on a shelf on the far side of his office were all five layers of a large Matryoshka doll. Revered in Russia, these ‘nesting’ dolls are actually hollow wooden shells filled with many identical copies, reduced in size and usually hidden one inside the next. Moving quickly, Becca opened the largest doll and stashed the drives with the passcode into its empty interior.

Just as she was slipping the two pieces back together, she heard Vlad opening the door. She had just enough time to put it back on the shelf before Vlad stumbled in.

“Well, well, Rebecca. We are alone at last. It’s about time that you say sorry to me and give me what I want,” Vlad said, snickering as he did.

Becca turned to face him and made sure the dolls were shielded from his view even as she walked away. Fortunately, he was too drunk and focused on having sex with her to question what she was doing in alone in Dimitri’s office. Becca knew she had to be careful. Vlad was known to have an explosive and violent temper. She had seen the bruises on the women who had either refused him or displeased him in some way. He was an evil brute and seemed to enjoy abusing the women physically as much as he did doing so sexually.

“You had better take that coat off and get over here. We have unfinished business together,” he said. He had already unzipped his fly and was pulling his penis out, stroking it as he did to get himself hard.

Becca could smell the vodka and stale sweat and his bad breath. The idea of being near him, let alone giving him oral sex disgusted her. She stood up very straight and stared at him hard. “I wouldn’t have your teeny, tiny cock in my mouth or anywhere else. Leave me alone.” She knew she was adding insult to injury but confronting a bully was in her view the only way to deal with one. Face them down and they usually fold. It was a chance she had to take.

Vlad lunged for her and grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her to him. “You are no printsessa (princess).. You are just a blyat (whore) like all the rest of them. You’ll do whatever I want or I’ll give you a lesson that you’ll never forget,” he shouted.

Just then Dimitri came through the door. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Vlad? Take your hands off her. This is not the first time I have caught you trying to force yourself on Rebecca, but it will be the last. She is mine. You know it. By the time I’m through with you, Siberia will seem like a vacation. Get out of here right now and sober up. I’ll deal with you later.”

Dimitri then turned to Becca. “I’m so sorry that you had to endure that. You know that you are precious to me. I promise that he will never try to touch you again, my malishka (baby). Perhaps I will see you later.”

Becca’s run of luck was bent but not broken. She tried to keep her composure as she said, “Thank you, Dimitri, for protecting me. I will show you my thanks in a way you will like later then.”  She made her way to the hall and left trying hard not to run out the door and arouse suspicion. The one certainty now was that she needed a stiff drink.

oo0oo

It was nearing 9 pm when Becca arrived home. She had hoped dearly that she would have the drives, but Vlad’s sudden appearance had ruined that plan. Worse still, she had been forced to hide the evidence in Dimitri's office. It was a dangerous decision but it was a desperate one with no other choice. She doubted he often inspected those dolls. It was entirely possible that the drives could remain undiscovered for months. All she needed was be a couple of days and a good reason to reappear in his office and she was sure she could retrieve them.

That meant she had to keep up her deception living with her reputation with the agency intact. The idea made her stomach turn and she was actually glad Matthew was not home when she returned. Just a another day or two, she told herself. Hopefully, she would not get another rendezvous by then. Being home when Matthew arrived would be far better for their relationship than it would be if she were out fucking another guy. She had to catch herself at that thought. It was absolutely surreal, yet that was the position she was now in. Long ago, her school psychologist warned her that casual sex could have unintended consequences. She wondered what Dr. Bishop might say to her now. Probably he would tell her to think about what she was doing and its impact on her relationship perhaps being greater than she had first imagined.

She had just poured a scotch and soda when her burner phone rang. She knew it was Anna before she even looked at the screen. Steadying herself, she made certain her voice reflected none of the stress the ring sent rushing through her.

“Hello?”

“Rebecca. We have a new client, one who specifically requested a tall red head, sexy but elegant. He is paying quite well for such a specific request. You are to meet him in room 1138 at the Kensington Plaza at 11:00 pm. Do you have it written down?”

Such appointments were never simple requests and Anna hang up as soon as she was done speaking. “I’ve got it, “ Becca said as she hung up.

“Fuck.” was all Becca could say before she swallowed her drink.

It took her better than an hour to get ready for her date. Another half hour for the taxi to bring her to the hotel meant she was at her client’s door with ten minutes to spare. While her heart was more conflicted than it had ever been over selling sex, no one looking at her could have ever guessed that to be true. She was wearing a black sequined slipdress she had purchased just for such a date, and it clung to her lithe body like a second skin. Her breasts were high in her bra and the pale creaminess of her skin contrasted starkly with her red hair and the dress. She had planned especially as her client specifically asked for just this look.

She took a moment to compose herself, and as she knocked, she was transformed into a siren of beauty that no man could hope to resist. She was going to rock this man's world and be home before he ever realised she was gone.

Someone once said that any plan goes to hell once the enemy is sighted, and while that axiom did not directly apply to her that night, her plan certainly took a left turn the instant the door opened.

“Matthew? Oh my God, what are you doing here?”

Matthew’s face lit up with mirth. “I’m here, my love, because I am your date tonight.”

Becca was stunned and only Mathew’s obvious amusement kept her from losing it right there in the hall. Following her boyfriend’s lead, she waited as he closed the door behind her.

“You better talk fast, Matthew. This little trick could ruin everything I have been working on.”

“I doubt it. No one at your agency knows who I am, and for as much as I paid, I very much doubt they will ever ask. As to why, it's because I was caught between my refusal to share you and my belief that you would never do this unless you had a very good reason. I love you, Becca, and if you had to sell  yourself tonight, it was going to be to me.”

Becca was left speechless and could only melt into his arms. “You love me?” she whispered, barely able to believe what was happening.

“Of course I do. And I want you to know, I need you to know that I believe in you. If this story is so important that you were willing to do this, than It’s important enough that I’ll support that decision no matter where it takes you. I will never doubt you again.”

Tears of joy ran down Becca's cheek and she laughed as her stress and fears melted away. For all her life Becca Weiss had owned her sexuality, no matter the man she slept with. Now she knew she would no longer have to. This was the moment she knew what the difference between sex and love actually felt like. Kissing him, she buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed with relief. “I thought I'd lost you, and now you've shown me what a tragedy that would have been. Make love to me, Matthew. I need you now more than ever.”

Their journey to bed was short but filled with a passionate kisses and caresses reminiscent of the first days of their relationship. When Becca fell  into the sheets’ cool embrace, Matthew followed, sliding into the cradle of her thighs.

Becca loved his weight on her and writhed as he kissed her breasts. She was filled with happiness and they laughed playfully as he teased her body. When he started to kiss his way down her belly,she stopped him. “No, baby. We can do all that later. Right now, I want you inside me. Make love to me, Matthew. I need that more than anything else.”

Matthew did not hesitate. He was hard and ready. Becca gasped as he slid deeply into her. “Oh, darling, that feels so good.”

Becca whimpered as he moved within her. She curled her legs around his thighs and held, guiding him as his motions grew more powerful. He was so hard and reaching so deeply that her whole body rocked each time he thrust. His rhythm was steady, filling her each time he sank deep. Each thrust was a satisfying pleasure that filled her with love as much as it did his manhood.

Her mind drifted between that singular moment and everything he had done that night. The room he had rented was a suite, one of the nicest in the hotel. It had to have cost a thousand dollars. Both he and the agency mentioned he had paid them well and she wondered how much he had spent to have her that night. “How much did you pay for me, Matthew?” she asked.

Matthew paused, still hard inside her. “What? Paid for what?’

“The agency, silly. You didn't get this appointment for free.”

“Oh, that. About five grand.” Matthew smiled like a teenager and thrust hard, making her gasp.

Becca felt like his cock was in her throat, but still persisted. “You paid five grand to fuck me? Why on earth would you do that when you get me for free?”  

“Because, like I said, if you had to do the job, you were going to do it with me. Since you ask, what are you doing with all the money your make?”

Becca squeezed his cock inside her, causing him to gasp. “ The agency keeps forty percent. The rest I donate to an abused women's shelter.”

Matthew paused again, almost pulling out of her. “Really? A shelter for abused women? Well, that is money well spent.“

“What, that's more important than having me?” She was teasing him now and his face lit up and his boyish smile became an impish grin.

“Like you said, I get to fuck you for free.” He drove his cock into her hard enough that his balls slapped against her ass.

Becca gasped and raked her nails down his sides. “Yes, you do. Now, stop talking and fuck me like you paid for it.”  

He did. They climaxed together, repeated their lovemaking twice and then fell panting onto the bed.

Their conversation was very different from what is normal in the afterglow of sex.

“Matthew, what changed your mind? I thought that you were furious with me and that you considered what I was doing a betrayal,” Becca asked. “I tried to explain to you that this was the only way I could think of to document the human trafficking and all of the compromising information that the agency was gathering. It is not a leap to think they would use this information to influence our politicians and therefore US policy. We all know that the oligarchs and Russian mafioso are connected to their government and ultimately to Putin. Added to that I can’t forget about the women. Some may call it the world’s oldest profession, but really it is the world’s oldest oppression. They are slaves to the agency and never will earn their freedom as they have been promised. They are too valuable as money makers.”

“Becca, I know that. It took me a few hours of walking around alone and sinking a few drinks in a bar to put things in perspective. Men have always been allowed to separate sex and love if they wanted to, to have mindless sexual relationships. Women haven’t. I can understand what compelled you to do this now and how you had to do it. The only way to get the evidence was to infiltrate the agency. I rarely think that the end justifies the means, but this is one instance where it does.. I’m worried that you have put yourself in danger, but I accept the risk you’re taking for the sake of freeing those trafficked and exposing powerful people who are compromised.”

Becca considered his words, impressed that he was able to put aside his ego for the greater good. This was the man she loved, and that filled her with joy. She felt more connected to him in that moment than ever before. It was, she knew, one of those moments she would never forget and she let her thoughts calm, focusing only on the warmth of his skin.

“I’m am so glad it was you, tonight. I have to say, you really caught me by surprise though. What would you have done if another woman had come to the door?”

“I gave a detailed enough description of you that I was sure that wouldn't happen. How many tall, American redheads do they have available in a single night?”

Becca smiled and cuddled closer. “Yes, but that isn't an answer. You paid a lot of money for this? Would you have gone through with it? It’s okay if you would have. I think we both can separate sex from real intimacy.”

Matthew turned her chim toward him. “Maybe I can, but I would still have sent her away. Just not for the reason you think.”

“Then why?”

“Too many of the agency's girls are being coerced. I don't care how beautiful she might have been, or how skilled. If there was a chance she was not there of her own will, I couldn't do it. I could never take advantage of a woman like that.”

This was the man she knew and Becca kissed him, suddenly longing to feel on her skin the love that was in her heart. Reaching for his cock, she stroked him, bringing him back to full arousal. “Well, since you did pay so much, I want you to get your money’s worth.”

Urging him back, she kissed him while stroking his length. She loved how he felt like this, hard and hot in her hand and she nibbled and kissed her way down his chest, dragging her red hair over his skin as she descended toward her goal.

“No matter who the man was, even congressmen or senators, I always made them use a condom. None of them ever got to truly feel my mouth on them, like this.” Wetting her lips, Becca sucked his head into her mouth.

Oo0oo

“You hid the drives in a Matryoshka doll? I have to say that was brilliant, but seriously, Rebecca, are you out of your mind? That thug could have killed you had he found them.”

Greg was worried, but she knew his dedication to their profession mitigated the dangers. Even as she geared up her rebuttal, he raised his hand in defeat..”Don't say it. I’m not being sexist. I know male reporters have been going into war zones for a hundred years. This is no different.”  

Becca nodded but acknowledged that she shared his concern. “I’m glad you understand, but dammit, Greg, I had it all. I need to get those drives soon. The clock is ticking now and if Dimitri finds them first, I won’t know it until i'm looking down the barrel of his Makarov.”

“Why don't we just call the police, or the feds? Let them go in and kick the door on those assholes. I really don't want you going back there.”

Becca sighed, wishing it was that easy. “I've thought of that, but you haven't seen the names on that list. They would need a warrant, and even if a judge issued one on my word, there is too much risk that someone in the loop has used their services. If Dimitri gets one whiff if this, the drives get destroyed and this will have been for nothing. I have to do it. No one else is getting in there.”

Greg was uncharastically solemn as he leaned back in his chair. “Okay, so then go back late tonight. There’s no point in risking another run in with Vlad.”

Becca agreed, but as Greg left her office she knew it wasn't that simple. She could expect Anna’s burner phone to ring at any time, and that would either mean another appointment or worse, the drives were found and she was being lured in. Neither were possibilities she wanted to face. Checking her watch, she figured Dimitri would be in his office. She was going to see him now and she was determined not to leave until she had those drives.  

By the time she arrived at the agency, Becca was tingling with nerves. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm and by the time she moved through the doors, her confident strut easily hid any misgivings she had about this meeting.

“Hi, Anna,” she finger-waved. “I’m going to pop in on Dimitri for lunch.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Becca.I’m sure he will enjoy the distraction.. Let me buzz him to let him know you are here.”

“Please don’t. I have a little surprise for him. We are going to need some privacy though, so you can help by holding his calls.” A conspiratorial smile lit up her face before she turned and headed down the hall.

Knocking as she opened the door, Becca found Dimitri at his desk. “Hi Dimitri. I hope I’m not intruding.”

This was the critical moment, for if the drives were found, Dimitri's greeting would be far less than warm. So it was that relief washed over her when the Russian lit up with an undeniable pleasure. “Becca, yes come in. It's so good of you to drop by. You are just in time for lunch. Please sit for a moment and then I would enjoy the chance to take you to lunch.”

“That would be wonderful,” she replied and buzzed his cheek with a kiss before taking her seat.

Everything was going as she hoped and she waited patiently as he logged out of his computer. She was almost convinced she was home free when he leaned back in his chair. His demeanor had changed abruptly and he gazed at her for a moment as if contemplating his next words.

“Rebecca, I do have a confession to make. Something happened last night and I need to talk to you about it..”

‘Bloody hell.’ Becca's gut clenched and she considered trying to escape, but Dimtri was an experienced killer and she doubted she would ever make it to the door. Bracing herself to bluff it out, she remained calm, waiting for him to pronounce her fate. His gaze had dropped, as if what he was about to say was unpleasant.

“This is hard for me. But I must apologize. I was incredibly thoughtless and can only hope you will forgive my grave insult to you.”

Becca froze as she processed his words. Instead of the accusation she expected, his sudden contrition caught her completely off guard. “Why Dimitri,thank you for your concern but I can't imagine why you should apologize.”

“And when you left here last night, where did you go, eh? You went to meet a man, yes?”

Yes, Becca did go meet a man, a man who happened to be the one she loved. If Dimitri had discovered that… “It was just another client. Why should that be a problem?”

Dimitri leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Rebecca, I saved you from that Ukrainian dog, Vladimir, only to hand you over to an American dog in a hotel. The American may have been cleaner and more sober, but he was no still less the dog. I was thoughtless, for no woman I love should ever have to sell herself to a man like that. I only hope you can forgive me.”

Relief flooded through her as she processed his words. He was being honest, she was certain of that, and his contrition not only meant she was safe, but gave her a golden chance put an end to his entire operation.

The irony of that did not escape her, of course. This man had just expressed his love and devotion to her, and she was about to use that to destroy him  Normally, that would be an inexcusable betrayal, but she was never there to be his friend, let alone his lover. He was a human trafficker who enslaved innocent girls and quite probably acted as a foreign agent in the process undermining American democracy. Becca would feel no guilt in destroying him, no matter how she managed to do it.

With that thought, the smile on her face was quite real and she came around the desk and kissed Dimitri. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what that means to me. I expect men to behave like Vlad, and treat me like a whore. To be treated like a woman is.. Well, you have no idea.”

“Yes, well I don't think you will ever see Vlad again, He went too far and I have had enough of him .Speaking of which, I have other work this afternoon and a business meeting this evening, but I would love to take to out for dinner you tomorrow night. Of course, you will no longer work for the agency. As long as you are with me, you will never have to work again. No more dates with clients and no more auditions for acting parts. You will be a woman of leisure and live to enjoy yourself.”

Becca rose and drifted toward the shelf, lightly touching the nesting doll in which she had hidden the drives. “These are beautiful, and in a way this one is very much like you. It has so many layers, and one cannot know them all until you open up and reveal yourself to them, just as you have for me. Would you mind terribly if I took this one? It would remind me you how kind you can be.”

Dimitri smiled at her flattery and nodded. “Of course, take the whole set. You are welcome to that and so very much more.”

“That is generous, but I’d rather leave the rest with you. That way we will share them, like a connection between us, don't you agree?”

When Dimitri nodded his agreement, Becca slipped the doll in her purse. “Thank you for everything, Dimitri. I will see you tomorrow night.”

The smile on her face was radiant as she left.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was the start of a new day. Becca’s story was written as she had been working on it quietly since she infiltrated Dream Girls. Greg had enlisted the newspaper’s in-house counsel to negotiate with the FBI  through the night regarding the investigation they had done and the multi-part story that they intended to publish. Ordinarily, this would not be necessary, but lives were at stake. The Russians were masters at disappearing people who had dangerous knowledge. There was no predicting what Dimitri and his gang would do if they knew that they had been outed. Their victims had to be rescued and the perpetrators arrested.

As well, there could be no leaks given that the client list of Dream Girls reached the highest levels of government, business, finance, entertainment, and even the legal system and law enforcement. This would be kept as classified information within the FBI on a need to know basis. Counsel had checked if they were exposed  before talking with any of them. Many reputations would be sullied as knowledge of the client list of this ultra exclusive escort agency was released. The paper wanted amnesty for those who had been trafficked and a path to citizenship for the majority of them who had been imported from other countries. They would all be free with the understanding that they would give evidence against their captors.

A coordination deal was finalized in the early hours of the morning. Becca watched CNN as reports of pre-dawn raids on agency locations in Washington, New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Miami and other sites were aired. The principals and underlings of Dream Girls were all arrested. There was even a glimpse of Dimitri being led out of his apartment building, hair disheveled and in handcuffs, apparently awakened by the FBI. He was no longer elegant and covered his face with his hands as he did the perp walk to a waiting car. Vlad was not arrested. His body had been found in a shallow grave by hunters in the Virginia countryside.

The FBI informed Natasha that they had rescued her sister and that they would be reunited the next day. They thanked her for her courage in coming forward and giving the impetus to Becca and the Times to dig into the story. It had turned out to be about a lot more than trafficking, and that made it even more important that Dream Girls had been taken down. Their status in the US would be legitimized on a fast track.

The impact of this would ripple through Washington and everywhere else Dream Girls operated with their clients wondering when there would be a knock on their door, possibly to interview them but also possibly to arrest them. As news of the raids filtered out in various media forms, there was a feeding frenzy of press on Capitol Hill. Dozens of names were being mentioned as clients of the agency, many correct Becca knew to be correct and others incorrect. Few of those on the rolls of the agency would escape unscathed, their reputations permanently damaged if they were compromised by sharing confidential information, skewing their decisions or were in the position of being vulnerable to blackmail by the Russians.

Becca had to laugh to herself when she saw a clip of John Gordon, as ever in his shirtsleeves, unwilling and unable to answer questions and running away from a gaggle of reporters. This was a man of whom it was said that the most dangerous place to be was between him and a camera. Smarmy hypocrite was her only thought.

Greg was delighted with the scoop and the impact of the story, saying it was up there with Woodward and Bernstein and Watergate. Of course the media in all of the cities where Dream Girls had operated were now on the story, but the Times was first. This would take at least a week to tell in detail and no other outlet had as much information as they did thanks to Becca’s fearless reporting. Matthew joined Becca in the newsroom as champagne corks were popping and told her he was very proud of her. Greg gave a short speech thanking the team for all of their hard work and started to say the “P” word but was shouted down as the reporters considered it bad luck to talk about the possibility of a Pulitzer Prize.

Becca felt the relief of being free to go back to her normal life as she leaned into Matthew. She glanced at the matryoshka doll on a shelf near her desk. She had kept it as a talisman of this assignment and the power and obligation of the press to tell the truth as part of a vibrant democracy. She gave Matthew a sweet kiss and said, “Okay. I’m really tired. I’ve done all I can today. All I want now is to be with you. I have some ideas for a new story but that can wait a day or two while we spend time together. Take me home, Matthew.”  He took her hand and led her out of the office. Their relationship had been tested to its limits and survived. This was the personal ending she had hoped for.

Authors note:

I wish to thank my co writer, Principessa, for being the motivator behind this work. It was she who had the idea of revisiting Becca, and she has kept me focused with her ideas and talented writing. This story is the second long series we've written, and I am nothing shrt of amazed at the quality of the stories we've created together