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Not always as things appear.

Aunt Hester was right. You swing a mean mallet."

Michelle grinned mischievously and struck a 'Ta-dah!' pose with V's on both hands. Then her face fell. "Swung a mean mallet. Everyone expected me to go pro but then dad made a series of bad bets on the market and lost."

"I remember that. And not a week later was in that terrible auto accident . . ."

"It wasn't an accident," Michelle replied bleakly, "it was suicide. Everybody in the family knew it. He couldn't bear going on after having bragged about what a great stock picker he was. The insurance couldn't prove it was suicide so they paid off. And after we sold the stud and the farm there was enough to keep Mom in the townhouse but not enough to send me to Vassar. So I'm here at Futter trying to get to the point where I'm independent and what do I find? Your great-aunt trying to pair me up with you even though you've got Laurie."

Justin sat down on a nearby hay bale. "She isn't alone. Laurie doesn't want children of her own so she's all hot on everyone else having babies so she can play grandmother. Her take is that sooner or later some undergraduate chick will decide that sharing me isn't such a bad deal and join our 'arrangement'."

"Share a Heityme? And a chunk of the Heityme billions? I guess one would! Heck, if you turn out to be a halfway decent sort I might. Why, you could even give Heather a shot. Horny as she is she'd not only join the arrangement she'd insist on climbing into the same bed with both of you."

Justin smiled wryly. "Laurie wouldn't complain. She believes that as the Chair of Human Sexuality she should be as expert in all reasonable variations of it. She even declared you cute and said that her main female lover would be all over you in a second."

"All these bisexual women! Though I guess I qualify now. That Heather. She climbed into bed with me one night and worked me over but good. And I can't say I didn't like it . . ."

"Dommed you, did she? I know what that's like. And it is fun, no mistake, but not what I'd choose for usual, day-to-day sex. I'm more into the cuddly, friendly kind . . ."


As Heather drove Michelle back to the dorms she asked, "So is this the normal mating ritual in Your Circle?"

Michelle nodded. "You wouldn't think so in the beginning of the twenty-first century but, yeah, having entire families ganging up to find 'suitable matches' for their offspring is a pretty normal thing. And the pressure can be intense! There's this built-in fear that young people will make the mistake of falling for someone who isn't 'suitable', meaning from a family that your family hasn't known for about three hundred years. Now I have to spend the next God only knows how long fending off my mother, aunts and grandmother who think that hooking me up with Justin is a perfect match."

Heather pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car. Turning a fierce eye on her roommate she snarled, "And they're right! Listen, you, there's this thing called 'erotic capital' that we as young women, attractive young women have? It has the potential to put you in a great position. Don't squander it! I've known Justin for a couple of years. He's a little odd but when you have as much money as you say the Heitymes have, we call it eccentric. He's a nice boy and he must be a tremendous lover. I mean, he lives with Laurie Beindre, fergawdsake."

"Exactly! He lives with Laurie Beindre. What am I, the Other Woman?"

"No, you're the potential wife of a guy with an older mistress which mistress thinks he needs a real wife; that's what you are. Listen to me, Michelle Tarbox. Don't. Blow. This. Yes, you should not rush in. Take your time and get to know him better but just because he comes from the same social class you do and has more money than God doesn't make him an instant hate."

Then she started the car and drove back to campus.


Two day later a large package arrived for Michelle.

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