The next morning John’s cell phone showed an early call. It was Richard Harvey.
“I know you’re up because they don’t let you sleep in hospitals. You’ve probably had three enemas already.”
“How did you guess? Were you hoping to watch them give me one?”
“Hardly. I wouldn’t pollute my senses that way, not after my eyes have been feasting on your truly delectable little friend.”
“Did you show her what she wanted?”
“Yes. Sadly, all she wanted to see was Edward Putnam’s signature. I would have shown her so much more if she had just asked. The body of an aging college professor can drive women into paroxysms of orgasmic bliss.”
“How shocking she didn’t understand that.”
“Yes. Tell me, what does she really do for you?”
“She’s my associate editor, dirtbag. She’s smart, and she’s professio
