Sandy left about nine o’clock last night after I asked him to go. The day had taken a lot out of me, and as the wine, of which I drank too much, started working its magic, I wanted to go to bed.
The headache in the morning was as much from the wine as the stress. Coffee didn’t help, but I drank two cups, anyway. While I was putting my briefcase on the passenger’s seat, I noticed my shoes – they needed a polish. Why didn’t I see that when I put them on? Best hide my feet under the desk if any clients come in. A random thought of how annoyed Ferdinand would be that my shoes were dusty, led to the vision of him swooning over Phillip at my uncle’s the day before. ‘Speak of the devil,’ I muttered when his name popped up on my phone as an incoming call.
‘Good morning,’ he sang as soon as I ans
