Brought close to tears again by the memory of her lover - if that's what Jean-Pierre was - it felt so unnatural now to think of him as the client - she stifled a sob as she sipped her espresso. Her fingers trembled and her SA must have taken pity on her because she was soon after asked for a list of what she truly desired. 'Tell me what would make you happiest to see,' her SA said.
Well. What would make her happiest, she thought with a sniff, would be to see Jean-Pierre walk through those wrought iron-and-glass doors and scoop her up in his arms again, and make her dizzy with desire once again with those hands that --
... well, nevermind.
She told her SA what her dream BAG was. And as she spoke the words, she felt herself sinking further into her depression, thinking that whatever lucky charm that had been with her during the week had probably long evaporated.
But as she looked up, she saw a sly smile play upon her SA's face.
"Wait right here. Don't go away. I have something to show you," were the last words she heard before her SA darted away...