“Come now, why the long face?” Yolanda patted his hand. “You love the attention.”“Right,” he sighed.Well, that was that, then. He was goin... to show his butt, after all. Wait, what if Aron wasn’t okay with this?“I need to ask my husband,” he raised one finger.“Aron? Why?” Yolanda looked, a bit puzzled, at him.“Maybe he doesn’t want me to show everyone, you know, the goods,” he explained and leaned back in his chair.Was Aron the possessive type? He really hoped so. But he had no idea about. Perhaps I could Go to France, 'back time it' and then still get to England, only the England of the past. It was a thought worth considering.There was a knock on the door. I put my paper down (the one with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's autograph, I was reading the installment of Sherlock Holmes that was in it), and answered the door."May I come in," John Avery-Symthe asked me as soon as I opened the door.I stared for a moment."Sure why not. If I don't let you in, most likely a goon squad would. More

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