"I smiled, picturing Matt as a gawky teenager, his brown eyes staring up at the city's skyscrapers.He asked why did you move here? She said, for the j...b For the job and I've been so lonely here, so lonely There's no one I can talk to, you know I don't even know your brother.I felt my throat tighten as I kept talking to Matt, telling him how it was hard for me to make friends, and in this city it seemed impossible. I told him about my freshman year at college, about how I hardly left my dorm. Charlotte never knew her father. Her mother, Abigail Longley, was a Burlesque dancer and stripper, whose stage name was Bubbles LaRue.Charlotte used her incredible beauty to meet men. Many of them wealthy, and yes, some of them married. Charlotte was determined not to follow in her mother’s footsteps, even if she had to fuck her way to wealth.During her growing up-years backstage, Charlotte saw how her mother was used and even abused. She was not going to let that happen to her. No matter. It was her phone ringing. She also had taste."Hello, Tamsin speaking."So she had a name. She listened for some time to someone who did most of the talking; her replies being mainly yes and no. Then she said,"Artemisia antiqua, would you like me to spell it for you?….that’s right…..dot co, dot UK….yes, yes, ok thank you."Just then my own phone rang. Shit, it was my boss. I was late. I made a mental note of the web address and hurried out of the café into the bustle of London in the early. If I had any clue, I would've told you ages ago. It's a mystery to us all. My sister was your age when she wound up pregnant with you. No gallant youth stepped forward to claim his issue, and Jill would never say a word, except to allow how it did involve someone's sperm. I thought I'd let you know at least that, just in case you were harboring any fantasies about being an immaculate conception."Steffi laughed. "See, that's what I did have," she rubbed her hand up and down my forearm. "I had a.
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