As Jillians father followed his daughter and her friend back up the hall way into the kitchen, his head was still filled with a house he was currently...developing. Blue prints were the obsession of his life. Hi Mr Cleaver, how are you Jillians friend Lucy chimed, he looked up and there she was, sitting up on the kitchen marble counter, her legs crossed and covered up to her thigh with her black school stockings. Her tanned oiled skin peaking out from her navy plaid skirt, she had clearly rolled. "I can only say in my own defense that I have been living out of a suitcase in a motel for the last two months." Frankly Miss Seabold, I have been expecting you to withdraw from the course," Joan said. "I'm very glad you came to do it in person." But that is not why I am here. I came to get my drawings and the critiques that go with them," I replied."Miss Seabold after seeing you, I have to confess you would make a much better model than an artist," Joan said."If that is supposed to be a. More

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