"Alexander McAllister is a total pain in the a*s," I told Quinn as soon as we both sat for Dinner that evening, at her recommendation. "You will not believe the kind of day that I had today with him."
Quinn had offered to bring me to her favorite fancy restaurant, the very one that had red roses on round glass tables for two and chairs, and the smell of lilac and vanilla spreading all around the air, and I had spent the last half an hour, breaking down to her my awful experience with that child in a man's body.
"I can't understand why his father must be so frustrated with him," I told Quinn, "Never in my life have I worked with anyone more frustrating than him. I think I just dug myself a trench."
"Oh well, there's no mood that a little fancy Itfood can't fix, right?" Quinn was trying h
