He crossed off that they were spies. He'd known that one was stupid as soon as he wrote it down. After some thought, Chris turned to his computer and brought up Google's Australian page, and searched for her surname.There weren't many hits, less than a page of them, and he started searching through them. The first few were about an Iranian rock star. Momentarily diverted, Chris followed a link to YouTube that showed one of his videos. For a little while, he watched it, thinking that the music wasn't bad. Then the fellow started singing, and Chris couldn't hit the stop button fast enough: it was that reedy shaky middle-eastern singing. Still, he'd better not show his parents, they might play it on the main TV just to pull his leg.The next link was more interesting. A "Hassan Esfahani-Baracat" had operated an import/export business from Melbourne. There was a link to his company's web page, but it no longer existed. The date on the reference was mid-2006. Chris made a note of this.. "Can I get you something to drink Trent?" I asked."Sure babe," he said. "Where's your friend?" he asked, lookingaround for Debbie.As I was beginning to explain that she'd gone upstairs to change,she came downstairs. I couldn't believe my eyes. Debbie hadn't justgotten comfortable. She had gotten downright sexy and revealing. Shewore a short, sheer red nightie with a matching wrap. Matching redbedroom mules made her look so hot. I was jealous. She walked rightup to Trent, touched him on the cheek and kissed him. "Hi," shecooed. "I didn't think you'd ever get here."Now, I was jealous. I don't know why, but I hated it when Debbiecame on to other men. She, on the other hand, didn't seem to carewhat I did. In fact, she seemed to encourage it. It flabbergasted me.I went to get Trent a beer.When I returned, Debbie was all over Trent on the other sofa. Shewas wasting no time going after him. Within a few minutes, Debbiestood, took Trent by the hand, and led him upstairs. She waved at Tyand me.
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