. . . I whip-finished my fourth Soft Hackle and moved on to the Marabou Damsel. I sorted through some olive marabou, and yawned widely. I put a hook in the vise and started in. The same thoughts were stewing in my brain, but this time they took on a different flavor . . .

Passions of Olivia

Olivia stood before the door, unsure of whether to put her hand on the knob and enter the room. “Yes,” she thought to herself. “I’ll do it. A poor, young orphan girl like me needs a hobby. Especially after what he did to me." She could never bring herself to mention his name, he who had been given the stewardship of the vast Turkequill Hills estate by her dying parents, then swindled her out of her inheritance. But that was in the past. How could she ever recover the money, now that he had fled to Argentina?

She sighed. She might be poor, but she still had strength. And she needed a hobby. She opened the door.

Olivia's blue eyes scanned the room, unsure of which chair to take. There was an empty seat in the back. On the right sat a handsome dark-haired young man with a kind, earnest face. Could she trust him? She took a chance and walked toward the empty chair.

She had long, wavey hair, and her hips moved seductively, like a long, soft feather swaying in a current of water. She knew she was attractive, but she also knew there were many predators out there. She wondered again about the intentions of the young man she was going to sit next to.

Little did she know that he was Chauncey Jordache Wiburforce Nettlewhite III, CJ for short, scion of a fabulously wealthy Massachusetts family. He had finished his MBA at Harvard when he was nineteen, but rejected his parents’ rapacious business practices and headed west. West, where he could forget his family’s greedy ways. West, where he might meet an innocent girl who would love him for who he was and not for his billions. West, where he could attend a fly tying class.

As Olivia sat next to him, their eyes met. They both smiled. Little did she know the perils and adventures that would flow from that chance moment. Little did she suspect the terrible secret that CJ could tell no one. And little did she know that at that very moment, CJ's father was buying a fishing lodge in Argentina.