15Fortunately, Hill Financial Advisors had a running account with Cafe des Artistes, so they could simply stand up and leave. Kate looked so striking it’s doubtful more than a few saw the straining bulge in Harry’s trousers as they more or less charged through the tables and out the front door. Monsieur Pierre, the maître d’, was barely able to call the valet lads and have Harry’s black Mercedes waiting at the entrance. In minutes they were driving off into a perfectly moonlit night.
“Damn you, woman,” he said. “Where have you been the last ten years of my life?”
“The house, Harry,” Kate said calmly.
“What?”
“The house, darling. Drive to the house, I have the key.”
Harry’s brain finally caught up to his c**k.
“f**k!” he said, trying to avoid hitting cars as he screeched his way furio
