“I met them anyway. I was crying and driving crazy fast and they pulled me over.”I pushed bread around for a bit. “I understand you met someone ...ew pretty quickly.”“A few actually. I fucked Mary’s ex for a while. Remember him?”“Him!? That..., uh”“I think I wanted him to kill me.”“Jordyn...”“Don’t.” She waved a hand. “It wasn’t your fault. Well, maybe it was. It was our fault but my life and my choice and my responsibility.”“What happened?”“I met another guy. European, funny, charming. I thought. N. Henderson" to tactfully hide her sex. For flexibility in genre. As if one could only write a spy novel by dipping one’s bell-end in ink. Her Montblanc would do.She brazenly scanned the bartender’s entire body. Long, swimmer’s build, probably surfs. She had one use for young men, never had had any other. It was possible to overlook the clumsiness and the neediness when you could spider your hands down a ripple of abs, or you had them revved up to a good jack-hammering. Otherwise, they were. More

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