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Amelia is on the prowl in the Mall.

"If it were true, it would, of course, be a Classified State Secret of San Finzione; however poorly kept. Something that, even if I were cleared to know, you would be unable to tell me over the telephone. I would need to follow your Contessa's advice from the adverts and 'come there' to be told."

"Si. And Violeta says you and Sam still need to come for dinner. El Ni__os miss their godparents, too."

"Just so." Luc took a long drag and finished his cigarette. "This, then, also explains why Whyte was so quiet between the attempt on her life and now. He had pawns to gather. I must look into this, and then, based on what you have not at all told me about La Contessa, I must rethink my entire notion of how our universe works. I should have something in an hour. Was there anything else?"

"Oh, si. La Contessa's old friend, the one skilled in matters of money; Whyte has made him a part of things now as well. We have his assistance."

"I see..." Luc said, lighting another cigarette. "An old friend of La Contessa's... a definite asset, important enough for Whyte to drag into the crossfire, loyal enough to stay in it with her, almost certainly trusted enough to know the truth of the rumors which you have most definitely said nothing about, and any conclusions I may have reached are entirely my own. More to think on."

"Take all the time you need, old friend. I have something to tell her now."

They ended the call.

* * *

Troy Equals was at his desk in his home library, something he'd had built while they expanded their two-car garage to four, to accommodate Susan's car and the Ferrari that Helen had given Julie on their Honeymoon. Four Vespa scooters were also parked in the garage, another gift from Helen.

Troy's desktop computer had been set up in the library that had been expanded to contain more than it's original content of references on the subjects of hypnosis and mind control, so it also functioned as Troy's home office. A concealed peephole on the wall behind him allowed him to see into Julie's home studio on the other side, and vice versa.

It had been Julie's idea, in case they were both working, and one of them needed some quick "stress-relief." She and Troy had both implanted post-hypnotic triggers in each other, so that if one of them heard the sound of the peephole opening or noticed it open on the wall, they would continue working; but act out a subconscious desire to put on a sexy show for whomever was looking through the hole while they worked. Then when they heard or saw it close, either stop the show or finish themselves if the show had gotten that hot, and resume working, happy with the knowledge that they'd helped their partner-in-everything get on with their own. Susan knew about the peepholes, too, and was, of course, permitted to use them herself. She asked that they give her a trigger to compel her to help whosever side of the wall she was on with either their show or their stress-relief.

Troy had gotten out some of the old ash trays of his parents' and Propappou's that they'd kept. Mostly souvenirs from Greece, or bearing old-timey advertisements for various beers that were either no longer made, or had changed logos many times over the decades; making some of them valuable. One was on his desk, so Helen could sit with him.

"This is a fight that we will eventually lose." He told Julie as he set them out around the house. "Do you really want to keep going out to the back porch every time Helen has something to say? We can open some windows and turn on some fans for now and Febreze the place when she goes back home. Besides, she'll love the chance to steal Propappou's ashtrays, anyway."

Troy's great-grandfather, Byroni Medina, had been known as Propappou to most people, because, as he often said, "Everybody call me Propappou, cause I Troy's Propappou.

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