“You’re late.” Jessie said, giving me a disapproving look from where she leaned against the counter. Sprawled over it would probably have been more accurate. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Well good morning, Christopher.” I put on my best falsetto. “You’re looking well this morning, Christopher. Oh, and I see you’ve bought me my favorite coffee, Christopher.”
“Thank God.” She bolted around the counter and toward me, grabbing the paper cup from my hand and taking a drink before giving me a silly grin. “Sorry. I spent the last hour with Mrs. Greenberg, and I’m still recovering.”
I shuddered. “What did she want this time?”
“She wanted me to give her a hundred and seventy-five dollars for this weird, black panther.”
“Like one of those 1950s planters?” The kind everyone and their grandma had
