Alan Carter, 48, was sitting on his back deck with his morning coffee and the Wall Street Journal, just like almost every other morning. He had sold his consulting business to a large competitor a few months ago and had enough money to do what he wanted to do . . . when he wanted to . . . and where it wanted to. He still consulted with them on some of his larger clients, but could pretty much set his own schedule.
Looking out over his back yard, the pool shimmering in the early morning sun, birds chirping in the trees . . . damn, it doesn't get any better than this. Well, maybe a little better . . . Looking toward his new neighbor, he sees her out on her deck exercising . . . yoga tights, bare skin above up to a tiny bra/bikini top.
Alan was known in the neighborhood as a competent handyman and an excellent amateur photographer. Hmmm, wonder if she needs some help with any projects? Need to find an excuse to meet her.
(Alan - 48, prematurely greying at the temple, in decent shape. Corvette and Jeep in the garage.)
Looking out over his back yard, the pool shimmering in the early morning sun, birds chirping in the trees . . . damn, it doesn't get any better than this. Well, maybe a little better . . . Looking toward his new neighbor, he sees her out on her deck exercising . . . yoga tights, bare skin above up to a tiny bra/bikini top.
Alan was known in the neighborhood as a competent handyman and an excellent amateur photographer. Hmmm, wonder if she needs some help with any projects? Need to find an excuse to meet her.
(Alan - 48, prematurely greying at the temple, in decent shape. Corvette and Jeep in the garage.)