He hadn’t seen Pamela or his daughters for several days, and he missed them terribly. He hadn’t succumbed to the urge to drink the evening he and Pamela had kissed, but he’d relived the moment each night when he closed his eyes. His need for her had jump-started with such fervor he couldn’t stop thinking of her. “Hello—” the secretary read his name from the sheet “—Mr. Isaacs.” She handed him a visitor sticker. “May I ask the reason for your visit?” “I’m here to have lunch with my daughters.” She nodded. “Wonderful. And who are your children?” “Emma and Emmy Isaacs.” “Lovely girls.” The lady sat down at her desk and typed on the computer’s keyboard. She turned toward him, frowning. “I’m sorry, Mr. Isaacs, but you aren’t listed on the girls’ contact lists. I won’t be able to let you eat lunch with them.” Embarrassment warmed his neck and cheeks.
