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Smith pulled into the driveway. “Thank fucking god!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed as she walked to the door and opened it for her husband. "Thank god you...re home. I'm dying to pee," she said as he walked through the door to put down his bag."What are you still doing here?" Mr. Smith asked when he noticed me sitting on the couch. I was too enthralled to respond. I knew Mr. Smith came home late because he went to the gym after work, but I never imagined he was in such good shape. Even in his dress. Dolan asked if I wanted to join him for lunch one day and I agreed. We began to have lunch "dates" once a week. I did not tell my boyfriend about these lunch "dates" as I did not want to start trouble. During these lunch "dates" Mr. Dolan and I started to talk about my career path at the firm and about our personal lives. We got to know each other pretty well over the past two months. I learned that he had been married for twenty-five years and had three grown children. A nineteen-year-old. More

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