Pygmalion, Part 7

The following story is fictional and is provided solely for the enjoyment 
of its readers. While there are references to actual establishments such as 
major corporations, smaller companies, restaurants and locations, the 
characters in the story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to a real 
person either living or dead is completely coincidental. Several 
non-fictional characters (celebrities) make brief cameo appearances. Their 
role is purely fictional and no way linked to their actual lives. This 
fictional account does contain adult language and themes. If such language 
and themes offend you, please read no further. This story is copyrighted by 
AZ-MAN, 2000, all rights reserved. Permission is granted to reproduce it in 
any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced and no 
financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly, by the person 
reproducing it. 



A final thanks - to SSTORYMAN for his support, guidance and friendship. 

Should you have any comments, please feel free to respond to 
azman2k@yahoo.com. 



PYGMALION 
Part 7 of 10 


14. There's Got to be a Morning After 

"Oh, my aching head," spoke Heather. "Why did I let you talk me into 
drinking so fucking much last night?" she asked playfully as she poured a 
second cup of coffee and popped two aspirin. 

"Hey, it was your idea to go out. Remember? Besides, I had as much to drink 
as you did." 

Heather was eyeing her companion stirring her coffee and reaching into her 
purse. "Oh my God, Beth. You're not going to smoke now are you?" Heather 
couldn't believe anyone could smoke this early in the morning, especially 
in such a hung-over condition. "Or is it still 'Eliza'?" 

Beth laughed as she placed her first cigarette of the day between her full 
lips. "Oh, I don't know. I guess its back to Beth." She carefully lit her 
VS Light then sipped her coffee. 

Heather smiled. "Oh. So now both Eliza and Beth smoke, huh?" 

"Yeah, Beth smokes too, but probably not for the same reasons that Eliza 
does," she admitted. "I think Beth almost certainly smokes because she's 
now addicted and can't help herself anymore, and Eliza smokes because it's 
the social and sexy thing to do." Beth enjoyed referring to herself in the 
third person. "Besides, it's Beth's condo. Do you want to join me, pretty 
please?" 

"No. Not just yet anyway." Heather watched silently as Beth released her 
inhaled smoke over several dense nose exhales while simultaneously sipping 
her coffee. "Are you sure you're addicted, Beth? Hasn't this transformation 
been awfully quick?" 

Beth softly blew a rich stream of smoke from her lips across the top of her 
coffee mug. "Yeah, but I'm sure I'm hooked. I do this every morning now. 
And I'm smoking more each day. I couldn't give this up if I wanted to." 
Just before she started another puff / sip combination, she smiled and 
said, "Beth just loves it." 

Heather watched again. The greedy method that Beth was using to enjoy her 
cigarette and coffee was puzzling but also enticing. "Well, I don't think 
I'm hooked but I'll join you if you tell me a little secret." 

Beth looked up from her coffee mug with residual streams of smoke trickling 
from her nose. "What?" Then she went back to her puff / sip routine. 

Heather finally lit her own cigarette, feeling odd smoking so early in the 
day. "What do you think of Hank? And be honest." 

Beth laughed and pondered. "Oh, I don't know. That's a tough question this 
early in the morning. He was being a jerk last night." She set down her 
coffee mug and forced the remaining smoke out between her lips. "But 
there's something charming and innocent about him too. Why do you ask? You 
have a thing for Hank?" Beth wanted to hear a quick denial and for a 
fleeting moment, couldn't explain why. 

"Oh, everyone has a thing for Hank," Heather stated matter-of-factly, 
holding her cigarette erect only inches from her soft, full lips. "But if 
you're asking me if I want to date him, the answer is no." 

Beth smiled and decided to change the subject. "I think I'm going to see 
Tony again." 

Heather understood what was going on. She was just thankful that she and 
Beth didn't end up with Tony and his friend as they'd suggested. She 
reflected on the strange but interesting exchanges of smoky kisses she'd 
shared the night before with these boys at their table. "Tony's just a kid. 
Don't tell me you're planning on using him to get even with Hank or 
something" 

"Just the something," Beth laughed. She was being evasive. "Oh, I don't 
know Heather. I think I was drawn to Hank from the time I first met him. We 
clicked in a way that I think neither of us expected. Without really 
talking about it, we both knew we wanted to keep seeing each other. Then, 
when I thought I was going to see him at his house, I get re-introduced to 
Cindy and the next thing I know I'm learning to smoke. All for him - I 
think..." 

"I think it's his hobby, Beth. It was the same with me. He encouraged me to 
start smoking the night I met him at this bar in Scottsdale...The Rockin' 
Horse, I think it was called. I was a good girl. I was into running and 
health but before I knew it, I was smoking my first cigarette. Cynthia was 
there as were a bunch of his groupies. Everyone was smoking so to blend in, 
I let her teach me. I only had a few lessons. It was sort of a right of 
passage so I could continue to hang with his large clique. I fell for it 
for a while but dropped out about the time I met you so I could get back 
into running. It's ironic, isn't it?" 

"What is?" asked Beth after sucking down a long puff on a fresh cigarette. 

Heather laughed. "This! The fact that you now smoke. And you're addicted." 
Heather confirmed what she thought was addiction as she watched Beth's deep 
inhale. 

"So what? I smoke. Big deal. I'm not doing it for him anyway. Well, maybe 
Eliza does but Beth smokes for her own enjoyment. Beth loves inhaling 
smoke." To add to the effect, she double-pumped on her cigarette and let 
Heather hear a deep whooshing sound as she inhaled. Then, as she pushed the 
smoke out through her nose, she started another long drag. 

"Be-th. What are you doing?" asked Heather incredulously. She'd never seen 
someone smoke so intently. 

Beth put the cigarette out and let the massive amount of remaining smoke 
pour from her mouth in short, measured bursts. The smoke obeyed her every 
command. She acted somewhat embarrassed. "I can't help it. It tastes 
extra-good this morning." After making sure the last traces of smoke had 
left her body, and with no hesitation she reached for another cigarette. "I 
guess I'm going to have to call Hank. Despite telling Tony I'd see him 
again, I think Hank's the one I'd rather see." 

"I wouldn't be so sure Hank will want to see you. At least not right now 
anyway." 

"What do you mean? The guy is putty in my hands. I think he'll be pretty 
eager to see this." Beth executed a perfect French inhale. With the smoke 
deep inside her, she said, "And he'll be very eager to take a full exhale 
like this." She let the smoke come out in a rich, continuous cone from 
exaggerated pursed lips. Beth was showing Heather only the veneer of her 
attraction to Hank. She knew a mutual affinity existed beyond sexual 
desire. But she knew that to get back in Hank's good graces that she'd 
probably have to smoke for him. This was the real reason for her voracious 
practicing, addiction not withstanding. 

Heather spoke, "What do I mean? Oh, I think you should've seen the look on 
Hank's face last night when he stormed out of Aunt Chilada's. He was beyond 
pissed. I certainly wouldn't want to face him anytime soon." 

"Was he that mad?" Beth was racking her brain trying to remember all she 
said to him just before they split up. The alcohol had clouded her memory. 

Heather looked up and noticed Beth was no longer exhaling her smoke. It 
just naturally flowed from her nose while she breathed or from her mouth 
when she talked. "Yes he was mad. Although you were too busy to notice. You 
were kissing Tony all night." 

"I couldn't help it. Every time I'd take a puff on my cigarette, he'd want 
to kiss some more." Beth smiled showing it was pleasurable for her too. 

"Yeah. And that gave his friend Jason the same idea. I'd never done that 
until last night, you know." 

"What? Kissed a guy?" Beth kidded. 

"No silly. Blow my smoke into someone's mouth." 

Beth took a leisurely puff on her waning VS. "Yeah. It was a crazy night," 
she reflected happily. 

"Seriously Beth. If you want to get back with Hank, you're going to have to 
do more than just look pretty and smoke for him." 

The truth was, Beth was sorry and embarrassed for the way she'd treated 
Hank last night. But the only way she knew how to get back to him was to 
make him come to her. "That's where Tony comes in. I'll use him to..." 

Heather jumped in. "Don't you dare!" She liked Hank well enough not to let 
Beth play with his mind. And she knew Beth well enough to realize she'd do 
it rather than admit fault or say she was sorry to his face. "If you like 
Tony, then fine, see him. But if you like Hank more, go to him, talk with 
him but forget Tony. Okay? Don't play the two." 

Beth was already inserting a new cigarette into her lips and messing with 
her lighter. She pretended not to hear Heather's advice. "Don't worry about 
it. I'm in control." Then she eagerly sucked down the first long puff on 
her third VS. 

Heather stood up and watched Beth recklessly inhale a second puff from her 
cigarette and said, "Yeah, I can tell." 



--------------------------------------- 



Beth finally had to acknowledge to herself on Sunday night that she was 
having trouble dealing with her recent addiction to nicotine. Her smoking 
pace had increased at a frightful pace since her night out at Aunt 
Chilada's and she knew Heather was correct when she chided her about 
control (or lack thereof). 

It was now Monday morning and the first thing Beth thought about when she 
awoke was smoking. She wanted to see and feel smoke flowing out of her body 
as soon as possible. The thought excited her. Normally she would get up and 
go for a run before work, especially during the summer when it would be too 
hot later on. But now all she wanted to do was smoke. 

Beth rolled over onto her stomach in her bed and reached out to her 
nightstand. Her pack of Virginia Slims Menthol Lights was resting where 
she'd left it. Her last cigarette Sunday night was in bed. She'd taken a 
series of deep puffs just prior to switching out the light recognizing that 
this was the only way to keep the cravings from coming in the middle of the 
night. Now, as she flipped the lid on the box, she noticed the entire pack 
of cigarettes had been consumed. Panic almost overtook her. She cursed then 
jumped out of bed and ran for the kitchen. Fortunately a single new pack of 
VSMLs were awaiting her in one of the drawers. She tore into it and 
flash-smoked the first one in four minutes. Since she'd put her coffee on 
auto the night before, a fresh pot awaited her so she was able to enjoy her 
second cigarette much slower with her favorite mug of steaming java. 

During her third cigarette, Beth knew something was wrong. She knew that 
she shouldn't be getting addicted to cigarettes this quickly. Hell, she'd 
only been smoking for four weeks and she'd just finished an entire pack of 
cigarettes on Sunday alone. She needed to talk to someone, to seek advice. 
She also needed to start getting ready for work. The idea of speaking to 
Deb later this morning hit her while she was in the shower. Poor Beth knew 
she was in trouble when she realized she was looking for innovative ways to 
smoke in the small stall while the water beat down on her head and 
shoulders. 



Beth put out cigarette #6 in the sand ashtray outside the double doors at 
Motorola's employee entrance. It was only 8 o'clock. She stopped to exhale 
all the smoke from three quick puffs before pulling the door open. Feeling 
the last traces leave her body, she again wondered what she was going to 
do. She was eager to talk to Deb as she entered her work area. Deb was a 
veteran smoker with seven years under her belt and could certainly counsel 
her on nicotine's addictive powers. 

"John!" exclaimed Beth when she saw her boss in her office. 

"Oh, good morning Beth. I need to see you for a moment. I was just writing 
you a little sticky note." 

"Oh, brother. What'd I forget to lock up this time?" Beth knew she didn't 
forget anything. It's just that whenever John wanted to see someone in his 
office it was to 'counsel' them in private about some minor company 
transgression. 

John smiled. "It's nothing like that. I think you'll be surprised. Come 
on." 

The session lasted longer than she thought but the news was actually good. 
Very good, in fact. It turned out that John wanted to congratulate her on 
her six-month anniversary and tell her that she was through her 
probationary period. She was also going to get her confidential security 
clearance restored. John spent about an hour giving Beth her required 
performance review. It took a lot of restraint to not keep looking at her 
watch every five minutes. John was very thorough and when he was done, they 
stood and shook hands. Thank God, Beth thought. 

When she opened the door to leave John's office, she noticed Deb's 
workstation was empty and her computer was off. "Where's Deb?" she asked. 

"Off the entire week. She's on vacation. She should've told you via email," 
John answered. 

Beth rolled her eyes. She was about two days behind on email. Although, 
come to think of it, Deb did mention something about vacation Saturday 
night when they were all at Aunt Chilada's. "Shit." Beth was about to turn, 
then decided to tell John, "If anyone needs me I'll be on patio having a 
cigarette." She was surprised yet proud to make this claim. There was 
really no reason for it though. 

John's eyebrows raised. "Having a cigarette? Beth, I didn't know you 
smoked." 

"I do now. Just thought you'd like to know that's where I'll be if you see 
my desk is empty - now and in the future." 

John gathered a very superior look on his face and said, "No one just 
starts smoking these days Beth." 

She was halfway down the hall and yelled back, "They do now," without 
turning around. 



Beth was into her second cigarette (#8 for the day) on the empty patio when 
she decided that she was going to have to call Cynthia. "She'll 
understand," she almost spoke aloud as smoke from a very long exhale spread 
from her lips. Beth needed the camaraderie and advice from a fellow smoker 
and none seemed present around this place this morning. 



Cynthia had been thinking of Beth at the same moment as she rounded the 
curves up Hank's driveway in her late-model Mercedes. In fact, she made a 
note to call her. She wasn't quite sure what went on before Hank left Aunt 
Chilada's in a huff and she hadn't had a chance to discuss it with him. She 
knew that she probably didn't stand a chance with Hank now that his latest 
protégé had shunned him but still, Cynthia always held out a small vestige 
of hope that their relationship would tend away from platonic and back once 
again to romantic. 

When Cynthia entered Hank's office from the home's service entrance, she 
noticed it was empty. "Funny. Didn't he just call me on my cell from here? 
And where's Doug?" she spoke to the vacant room. 

"Doug's running some errands for me." 

Cynthia jumped. "Hank! God, you scared me." He was dressed in a plush but 
shortcut cream-colored bathrobe and some comfortable leather loafers. Not 
exactly what she had expected. This was supposed to be a workday. In fact, 
they were supposed to fly together on his jet up to San Francisco later 
this afternoon. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked. It looked as though 
he'd either been crying or his allergies were acting up. 

"No. It's just been a very long weekend Cyn. Very long." 

Cynthia's feminine instincts were to go to him - to hug him but she was 
reticent because of their harsh words on Saturday. Finally, after a blank 
silence, her emotions got the better of her. She stepped towards Hank and 
put her arm around him. "Oh Hank. I'm so sorry. I wanted things to work 
out. I promise." 

"No, no, no. It's okay. Not your fault." He reached out and stroked her 
pretty hair and kissed her check. 

Cynthia had known Hank for more than seven years. She knew what would 
normally cheer him up in this situation but now was unsure. She wanted to 
reach into her purse and pull out one of her long, slim cigarettes. Hank 
normally enjoyed watching Cynthia smoke while they worked together but on 
Saturday night he had asked her twice to stop. "We should've never used 
Heather," she lamented. "That's what went wrong." 

Hank held up his index finger to his lips. "Shhh. Let's not talk about it, 
shall we? It's over, done with." Hank was embarrassed. She could see that 
much. "If you care to though, I'd like you to go ahead and smoke Cyn. I 
know you want to. I don't mind." 

Again, Cynthia knew Hank well enough to read his code. He wanted her to 
smoke for him. He wasn't just being courteous in deference to her heavy 
addiction. "Sure Hank," she purred softly. "Anything you'd like. I'd really 
like a cigarette right now anyway. That's really sweet of you." In the 
recent past Hank had merely let her smoke around him. This was a subtle 
change. Now he was asking her to smoke for him in his own oblique manner. 

Hank watched her light up. Cynthia was perhaps the best, most well-groomed 
female smoker he'd ever seen. She was perfect in every respect and was 
literally a professional - a paid teacher of smoking. She made good money 
doing it and she showed she was worth every penny. 

After her initial four second puff, Cynthia showed him a fairly standard 
multiple exhale through her mouth then spoke, "There we go. All better 
now." 

Hank came closer and stroked her hair again. "I'm sorry about the other 
night Cyn. I guess I was all mixed up. Still am actually." 

Cynthia took a follow up puff on her full-flavor VS and popped the smoke in 
her mouth. She leaned closer to Hank. With the smoke deep inside, she 
spoke, "Don't worry about it." She was willing to feed him her exhale if he 
asked or made the right gesture. They both understood the intimacy of the 
moment and what this exchange might mean. She wanted more than anything to 
please him and make him happy again. 

After waiting several seconds with the smoke resting in her lungs only 
inches from Hank's face, Cynthia got no cue so she turned away and let the 
smoke go to waste, releasing a wonderfully thick stream towards the 
ceiling. 

Then Hank kissed her very gently on her lips and whispered in her ear, 
"It's okay. Do it again." 

Cynthia grinned excitedly. However, with restraint, she first kissed him on 
the lips to prepare him for what was to come. Then she slowly drew on her 
VS Menthol for five full seconds and inhaled shallowly so to mix less air 
with her smoke. She smiled at Hank just before connecting with his lips and 
feeding him the entire sweet smoky vapor. 

Hank softly moaned on his inhale. 

Cynthia was starting to get hot. She couldn't tell yet if he wanted to 
continue but felt her crotch start to moisten. She knew this was probably 
forbidden but she couldn't help herself. Cynthia raised her cigarette again 
and repeated her previous effort. She leaned over to Hank and felt very 
vulnerable this time. If he rejected her offering now, she'd be crushed. 

Their eyes met. Hank didn't disappoint her. He allowed her to exhale every 
bit of her puff into him. During the exchange he even put his hand over her 
clothed chest and massaged her breasts. Cynthia wasted no time reaching 
down under his robe to stroke his firm member. It felt so good in her hand 
as she pulled it free from his silk boxer shorts. 

Hank looked pleased so she continued. Cynthia used one of her old tricks 
she taught to her students. She put her cigarette in her mouth and began a 
slow draw while alternately opening and compressing her lips to allow a 
combination of air and smoke in as she used both hands to wiggle free from 
her skirt and underwear. The process took a little longer than twenty 
seconds. After inhaling the final bit of smoke, she spoke, "There. I'm all 
ready for you, baby. Slide your cock into me now and all this smoke will be 
yours." It took control for her to speak and not let any smoke out but 
after all, Cynthia was a pro at this. 

Hank moved closer. He was oh so close to making contact with her wet 
vagina. 

"Come on Hank. Please. I'm waiting for you baby." This time, some smoke was 
trickling out. "Slide your cock into me. Please. Take me! Take me now!" 

Hank hesitated. A strange dizziness began to envelop him but he knew it was 
not a premature ejaculation because the sensation was anything but 
pleasant. It washed over him in waves of nausea and made him very 
disoriented. He thought it might be the smoke but quickly dismissed the 
idea. He'd inhaled much more from woman over the years and it never 
negatively affected him. Just before he halted his movement towards 
Cynthia's soft, moist womanhood, he spoke, "I'm sorry Cyn. I just can't - 
not now." He pushed away and slid his boxer shorts back up. He was soft 
again. 

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Cynthia looked perplexed. "Is it me? Did I do 
something wrong?" She was about to cry unless he offered something positive 
in return. 

Hank didn't answer. He frowned and turned away. Then, just as he opened the 
door to leave his office he said, "I'm sorry Cyn. We both should've known 
better." 



When he was gone, Cynthia ran out and headed for the casita with tears in 
her eyes. She wasn't angry. Hank was right. She should've known better. 
Still, she hurt. She felt like she'd been hit in the stomach with a 
wreaking ball. Once seated on the plush sofa and after lighting a fresh VS 
Menthol, her tears came in earnest. They ran down her cheeks and over her 
lips. Some touched the filter on her cigarette during her puffs. Despite 
her crying, the cigarette was offering her comfort. It tasted good and the 
longer she puffed, the better it made her feel. She was drawing the smoke 
deep into her lungs, clutching her knees and sobbing when all of a sudden 
the phone rang. Cynthia's eyes grew large. Her tears froze. She was in 
mid-puff and quickly slid the cigarette from her lips and inhaled before 
picking up the receiver. 

"Hello?" she said in a throaty voice. She suspected it was Hank. She hoped 
it was him. 

"Cynthia?" the voice asked. 

She knew instantly it wasn't Hank. "Beth?" 

"Yeah, hi. I didn't recognize your voice at first." 

Cynthia knew why but didn't offer an explanation. "Yeah, it's me." She had 
been wanting to talk to Beth but her voice was flat-sounding, almost 
monotone. 

Beth recognized her cool manner. "Is it okay? Can you talk now?" She was 
always nervous calling Hank's house because she was never sure whom she'd 
get. 

"Sure." Cynthia blew out her smoke. "I'm sorry Beth. You just surprised me. 
What can I do for you?" 

"Well...." Beth spoke with measured words. "I think I have a problem. I 
need to see you rather than talk about it over the phone." 

Cynthia figured she wanted to talk about Hank - the way a new groupie 
gushes when she has a crush on a star. She wasn't in the mood. "Can't we 
just do it over the phone? I may be flying up to San Francisco this 
afternoon," then she paused. "But I'm not sure." She pictured Hank in his 
bathrobe. She figured they weren't going anywhere when she last saw him. 
"Can I call you back?" 

This was hardly the response Beth expected. She thought she and Cynthia had 
become friends. "Sure. I guess..." Then she added, "I really need to see 
you. It's about a smoking problem. I figured you could help, that's all." 

This intrigued Cynthia. So it's not about Hank, she mused. Again, she 
needed to confirm if she was going with Hank to San Francisco. "Fine. I 
need to see if my trip's still on. If not, plan on meeting me here in one 
hour. I'll call you back, okay?" 

"Okay." 



Beth leaned back farther on her bed. She'd left the plant early telling 
John that she wasn't feeling well. Now, here she was, playing hooky from 
work supposedly sick while enjoying her tenth cigarette of the day. As she 
replaced the phone receiver, she commenced another long drag on her VS 
Light. As usual, the smoke was performing its magic by simultaneously 
relaxing her and exhilarating her senses. Beth played with the smoke as it 
left her body and floated upwards. She stared at the ceiling wondering if 
she was in big trouble or not. She was confused as to how to continue to 
deal with these cravings that would not leave her alone, day or night. 
She'd read about nicotine addiction but never imagined it to be so potent. 
At the rate she was smoking today, she was projected to finish more than a 
full pack. 

Beth had always been a good girl. She had never smoked until recently, 
she'd never done drugs and she only drank during special occasions, no more 
than once a month. And even then, she restricted herself to one, maybe two 
glasses of wine, never any hard liquor. In college, she'd taken up running 
and ultimately worked up to competing in a triathlon with her friend Pam 
after she got married to Wayne. She had always been a healthy, energetic, 
active woman that had her life organized exactly where she wanted it. She 
got married to Wayne when she was 23 to his 37. Her family cautioned her 
about marrying a man 14 years her senior with Wayne's oldest child, a 
daughter named Chelsea, being 18 at the time. Beth and Wayne had laughed 
about the comparison of age between Chelsea and herself. Beth's father had 
had a private fit of rage when he learned about this same age difference. 
He had wanted to forbid the marriage but realized he had no say in what his 
oldest daughter, Elizabeth, now a college graduate, wanted to do with her 
life. When Beth later learned of his rage, she got angry, telling him he 
was lucky to have a young woman like her as his daughter. She was 
intelligent, driven, extremely organized, morally sound and she knew what 
she wanted. And if that meant marrying a divorced man 14 years older than 
she then so be it. Her relationship with her father had been strained ever 
since. 

As Beth lay on her bed puffing clouds of smoke up at the ceiling, she 
wondered what her father would say now. He'd probably hardly recognize her 
lying in her underwear with cigarette in hand and smoke trailing from her 
lips and nose. Resting here now at age 29 and recently divorced from Wayne, 
she felt she could barely face the man. Her problem was twofold. She was 
quickly becoming heavily addicted to cigarette smoking and much to her 
father's chagrin she was falling in love with another man, this time one 
nearly 20 years her senior. 

Beth gasped at the thought. Some smoke caught in her throat and she coughed 
just a little, then smiled at herself. "Despite being addicted, I'm still 
new to this," she reminded herself. Then her thoughts drifted back to Hank. 
She wasn't sure she was actually in love with the guy but she certainly 
felt a mystical attraction despite their row on Saturday night. She flashed 
forward to a scene of marriage, of a life together and the differences they 
shared. She imagined all the women he must've had before her. She imagined 
the wrath of her father as she sat down to tell him the news of her next 
marriage, to Mr. William Henry Graham, millionaire playboy from Phoenix, 
age 49. She also tried to imagine telling him that she now smokes and 
drinks. This double set of bad news would probably be enough to push the 
old boy into his second heart attack. 

Beth pondered her problem as she chained into her eleventh cigarette of the 
day. She started to put a plan together in her mind that would get her off 
cigarettes entirely (while there was still time!). This is where Cynthia 
would come in. She also was going to call this Tony guy she'd met at Aunt 
Chilada's and ask him for a date. Maybe her dad would be impressed if he 
knew she was dating a guy younger than herself. Beth took a long hit on her 
VS and inhaled slowly and deeply. She let her chest rise at half its usual 
rate until her breath caught. As the moist, sweet smoke swirled in her 
lungs she figured that if she couldn't quit smoking, at least she'd make a 
point to hold it down to just a few cigarettes a day. As for Hank, as 
attracted as she was to him, she knew that a continued relationship with 
him would only hurt her. Either he himself would break her heart or her 
family would further distance themselves from her - neither of which she 
wanted to endure. With these thoughts spinning through her head, Beth 
picked up the receiver next to her bed and tried to locate Tony's phone 
number. 



Cynthia learned from Doug that their trip up north to the Bay Area was off. 
She was too embarrassed to ask Hank so a quick call to Doug, who was on his 
way to visit Hank, told her Hank had just cancelled it. That was fine with 
her. 

Now she could turn her attention to Beth. What she'd mentioned on the phone 
earlier fascinated her. She wondered what kind of problem Beth's smoking 
had created. She lit her own cigarette and punched Beth's number on her 
phone. She told Beth to meet her at the casita at 3 o'clock and to just go 
around back and avoid the main house. 

"Perfect," Beth had answered. 

Previous part | Next part