Well that’s all her trolley contained, bottles of spirits, other than a bag of dog biscuits. I guess her age was mid-fifties to late-fifties, about ...hirty years older than us. Her hair was clearly coloured to disguise her grey hair and had that odd blue tinge to it that older woman seem to go for. What caught my eye though was an expensive brand of malt whisky in her trolley, emphasised by a large electronic security tag enveloping the cap. She’d loaded up other expensive brands as well, yet no. ”Mark replied, ”Factory job here. They could surely train a monkey to do the job that they had me on.” Mark hopped up off of the bed and shook Mike’s hand. “Nice meeting you Mike. I need to check in with somebody.”Mark grabbed his gym bag and headed to the athletic complex. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to get in there. He went to the back entrance and found an unlocked door. Once he got in the building, he worked his way toward the locker room. He walked by Coach’s office and grabbed. He was actually with another guy and they were looking for a third. He replied in the affirmative and asked me to send a face pic. I got out my camera but a guilty feeling suddenly overwhelmed me. I wondered if I was being irresponsible, or if I was cheating on Marie. Had we even officially broken up? After a while, I did send a photo, but with a note warning that I would most likely end up chickening out. His response made me hard instantly:"Here's an idea: don't chicken out. Text this number. "Here we go..." I reached into my purse, pulling out my lucky rabbit's foot and thumbing the buttons so the alarm beeped softly."This is your car?" Carl smiled. "Nice." And this is your seat." I grinned, opening the passenger door of my Jag, an old XKE that my daddy had bought me for graduating high school. It was a coupe, not a convertible, which had disappointed me more than it should have, but I was seriously spoiled anyway."Where are we going?" Carl asked and I giggled."Right here..." I.
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