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Manny finds massage as good as sex, but both together...!

We met in front of the diner. Sean offered his arm, and we went inside. In spite of the company, I wanted to go right back out. Cianfrani's was packed. In spite of the noise, Sean made conversation.

He said, "I am at a loss for what to call you. Obviously, I cannot use the name on your business card, but I have no other use name for you."

He was right. "Good point. Most of the names I have used, I have also outgrown, or do not care to repeat. 'Call me Ishmael' seems a bit trite. How about ZZ?"

He said, "As in two Zs?"

"It stands for Zezolla." I love fairy tales. I also love running them down in the original form, even if it happens to be in middle French. Sean understood the reference right off.

"Ah, I understand, though your frock is a little too clean. I think Belle would be better, as I can easily play the Beast." My stars, he could not be serious. My face got so red my ears were burning. He ignored it. "It's settled then. You are my Belle."

I heard a gasp. Looking over, I saw Charles Blanding with his mouth hanging open. He must have seen me blush. That would be the last thing Mistress Cynthia would do in his world. I was dressed as Mistress Cynthia, though Sean had not seemed to notice. Time to bring her to the party.

Sean bought me the time I needed. He waved Charles over saying, "Chuck, I want to thank you for introducing me to this lovely lady. We have so much in common: art, music, Italian food. I took her to the symphony Saturday night. It was one of the most memorable nights of my life. She even blushes prettily." I flushed again. Blast him for making me break character.

I needed to repair my image. "Charles, I am so glad you dropped by. You have a free session coming. I took the liberty of scheduling you last on Thursday. That means we can go long if things work that way. I have something special planned." I used my Cynthia smile, which scares some people spitless, and leaned on the "special." Sean tied the bow on it. "Chuck, please take our place. This lovely lady and I have business to discuss, and it is going to be too noisy in here." Perfect. I added, "Please Charles, allow us. I will see you 4:00 PM on Thursday. Do not be late."

Charles was already pale and sweaty. That turned him positively stricken. Thursday, I planned to give him a lot of time alone with his thoughts, with just occasional punctuation. I grinned as we pushed out of the building and ran to the corner. Then we both burst out laughing. I, at least, laughed til it hurt.

We had stopped almost in front of my Volvo. I pulled out my keys and unlocked the doors. Sean got in. George must be busy elsewhere, which was something to think about. George reeked of security. Since Sean did not offer an opinion, I drove us to D's Grill near my studio. I was in the mood for gyros and tabouli. It was a new place for Sean, which was all good. We ordered at the counter, received our styrofoam cups and found a seat in the corner to sip our drinks.

Sean broke the silence. "That is a spectacular outfit you are wearing. I doubt many could pull it off." What a left handed compliment. He could be thinking so many things.

I gave him the truth. "I had it made a few years ago for a special client."

He shocked me by nodding and saying, "Judge Johnson." Before I could sputter out something, he went on. "I hope you don't mind. I asked Helen and George to do some discrete inquiries. Considering the nature of your business, I told them to be very discrete." That was a mouthful to chew. I was spared an immediate reply by the arrival of our food. We focused on gyro and tabouli, spanakopita, grape leaves and cucumber salad.

After I finished what I was willing to eat, I said, "Something tells me that George would have been digging without any instruction. What was he, Secret Service?"

"No, but close. Same song, different verse. He was a Marine on protection detail. The knees are no longer military grade."

"Tell him that if he needs therapy, I can do a mean routine.

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