Sandras Social (The W.A.R.M. Front Series Book 1)

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Protect Rachel Adams. But he soon finds out that the only person she is in danger of, is him. Coming March Deborah McKilligan Dallas county criminal psychiatrist had been a loner from day one. Somehow Sandra had broken through that and convinced her to be involved in something. Now as she watched that woman get married it was her job to continue the fight by heading up W. A year later an odd closed case lands on her desk. Quickly Deborah realizes that this case was a scam.

Someone high up was trying to cover their tracks. He had reintroduced her to Major Carlos Guerrero who she had met at their wedding reception. It was so odd how much you could know about a person without knowing their name.

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Their conversations were intelligent, political, and sometimes inane. Sandra smiled back. Without doubt the day of Elizabeth Arden had been the toughest to take. Nonetheless she led her to the bar, and quickly left it.

Sandra gratefully breathed in the fresh air that was left in her wake. Sandra slowly turned her stool to face him. He was Monsieur Arrogance tonight for sure. She smiled haughtily at him. Every freaking time her first words to him were like that. She might as well have called him Mr. He sat next to her without saying another word, and signaled the bartender. She only knew the price of that model because her Grandpa Samath had bought one for her father years ago for a birthday present, and he had bragged about the price for 6 months afterward.

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She knew that the one she sported as a graduation present was quite pricey, and so whenever Brenda tried to tell her how much it was worth she would always stop her. It was better not to know how much of a fortune the damn thing cost. After all it was just a watch.

His gray and white hair was still thick and worn a touch long. You must always know what time it is.

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Uncharacteristically Sandra let him be high handed. For some odd reason it felt wonderful to have a man know her well enough to order for her. Her Greek half would be thrilled. It was still preferred, but at this point in the game she was considered well past a decent marriageable age.

Any man that would have her would do. Both knew that in her heart of hearts Sandra thought she would be the one to avoid all of this male female nonsense.

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She grimaced to herself that the training in women to be dependent on the approval of men was ingrained deep. Even she was susceptible it seemed. Sandra took a sip of her drink, and regarded him in silence. With keen interest he turned to face her, one arm on the bar, the other resting on his black clad thigh. Then with another small smile, and an almost scholarly look she was beginning to recognize, he continued. Sandra smiled in anticipation, story time. Without fail everyday he would take all three out into his little boat and set them free to fish for him as he sat and waited.

As expected the two cormorants that were untrustworthy would eat more than they would bring back to the boat choosing to greedily fill their bellies before returning any of what they caught. When full they would hunt for sport, and bring what was left for the fisherman. The third was a very different creature. She had confessed that she loved to hear him tell a story. He had explained that in Japan it was an art, not just anyone was allowed to tell a story. Men had been slaughtered for less than telling a bad story, and that was a quote.

When you were an oddity in a place like Japan, the people who viewed you expected to be entertained. So he had learned how to tell wonderful stories. It was the only way the smaller Japanese children would play with the giant grandson of the white haired gaijin. He sold much of his catch to others, and feed countless people whether they paid or not.

He was a hand talker depending on the seriousness of the story. Because he was proving a point he had very few hand gestures to accompany this story.

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So it stood out when he raised his hand from his thigh slightly dropping his head signaling a pause. So when they were done the two less loyal cormorants would spend the night punished for their greed without food or drink. Their treacherous ways returned to them the way the fisherman saw fit. They would watch as the third was gifted with all the luxuries of a kept bird; unlimited food and drink, a safe place to sleep, and freedom to eat and drink at his leisure.

All for a couple of hours of selflessness each day. His pause was once again dramatic, but carried a hint of being thoughtful. He could make his face and voice so very expressive when he wanted to. A by-product of all the control he exerted over his features and emotions constantly. All of the birds contain the same spirit, yet all are caged.

She happened to know that he enjoyed these debates with her very much. He narrowed his eyes to try and distract from how much fun he was having so he could concentrate on giving as good as he got. Uncertain food, uncertain that tomorrow will even be seen. If the cage is chosen, why fight that which wants to reward and care for you. He now watched her in the oddest way as if her answer had just told him all the secrets of her being. It was very disconcerting as he sat across from her holding the side of his face in his hand resting his elbow on the bar.

The other on his thigh idly turning his half filled glass of Chivas rocks. His unusual eyes were focused intently on her noting everything. Why risk unfed nights when the kept birds have already captured all of the fish and are joyous and full. Silently they contemplated each other, and Sandra got the feeling that this conversation was about much more than birds and fish or an argument that had started weeks ago. She was answering whatever he was actually proposing unknowingly.

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Sandra thought back. The argument had started during their week three meeting. To which he had responded that this treatment would happen in a totally equal world as well. The nature of man was to destroy in most instances, and whether women were considered equal or not was of little to no regard. There were men who would destroy, and those that would fight the urge and not. To which she had responded that she had expected no less an answer from a man raised Japanese.

The argument had taken place at least once between them as each thought of counter points to support their position. Simple bravado filled statements that one can only hope to live up to are all that do. He sat his drink on the bar, and took hers from her hand, and did the same with it. How do you see life?

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Where is your place in it? Sandra hesitated as she realized that he was leading to another point. Nervously she clenched her hand, and he returned the squeeze as she decided to give him a bland answer. A testimony to the nature of man, and his slow and gradual evolution. I am a humanity mathematician.

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Monica hires Joey as a stooge so she can show her authority in front of the staff by firing him in front of them all, and the rebellion soon ends. You can remove delegates by clicking the red '-' button. Ross is jealous of Mark as he mistakenly suspects that he and Rachel are having an affair. Carol and Susan are often bemused by Ross' behavior throughout his onscreen appearances with them. Finding business-minded developers was rare, and finding developers with business degrees and experience from both business development and finance even rarer. January 1,

A beautiful, intelligent, woman. His index finger was tapping her pulse as he placed it over his chest right above his heart. The world around them blurred as her heart sped up its pace pounding heavily in her ears. For a countless number of seconds nothing existed but the insistent building of their heartbeats; the rhythms starting to come together and echo each other.

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The penetrating warmth of his body was burning through his shirt in counterpoint to the comfort of his hand holding hers to his chest. Her eyes were pinned to his chest where they touched.

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He squeezed her hand causing her eyes to shift to his. They exchanged a pointed look between the two of them. Man has had a history that shows a desire to subjugate the weak, and to enslave those not in power for fear of their strength. Sandra felt an unnamed emotion course through him as his hand tightened over hers. His perfect blue eyes grabbed hers again. This place has a balance.