She finished her glass, spun around on the bar stool and started to stand up, but was stopped by a man standing behind her. Calling him a man might ha...e been pushing it, Paige thought. Her eyes went down his long, lean body and took in his expensive shoes and dress slacks. The white, with navy blue striped button up shirt was tucked neatly into his narrow waist. His eyes were blue and hair black, cut very short. This boy was beautiful, and he could only be about twenty-one. She was greeted with. He always had his head buried in books. His mother would give him classics written by Jules Verne, Mark Twain, and Robert Louis Stevenson. He was a frequent visitor to the public library, reading all the Hardy Boys novels and anything else that interested him.At night, after supper, when his father sat in front of his computer and reviewed the financial news, they would discuss possible investment moves that his father could make. His father explained what the stock market was, what it. More

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