Irene had holed up in her office today with the intention of doing some research for this week's class, which -- as usual -- meant that she was browsing things that most people probably wouldn't consider especially safe for work ( Read more... )

Irene was slowly adjusting to being followed around by a seven year-old, but whenever this was over, she was going to indulge in a very stiff drink and a very hot bath, minimally. The whole weekend had confirmed a few things for her -- one, that she was not cut out for motherhood (though she did think she'd make a wonderful Fun Aunt Irene, since ( Read more... )

Irene was, naturally, not used to coming in to her office on a Saturday, but she was here and in fairly bright spirits all the same. It wasn't every day that the one and only person from home who knew you still lived and breathed actually turned up to spend the weekend with you. (There was more to it than that, of course, and that was perhaps part ( Read more... )

Irene didn't exactly need to research for her class, so to speak. She had plenty of practical experience in most areas that her students had questions about -- or at least, she reliably knew where to find the answers.

But they were nearly out of the 'sex' portion, and about to move into the 'dating' bit, and that had always been...well, a bit less ( Read more... )

Irene had never had an office, not like this. Sure, she'd had her home office, where she'd mostly maintained her website (the bits she didn't outsource, anyway), but that had mostly been a glorified boudoir with a laptop.

Not, of course, that this wasn't as well, or wouldn't be. Irene was tucked up in her chair with this season's Jonathan Adler ( Read more... )