Gina
Friar Chuck glanced at the bill in his hand and said, “Please allow me to see what I can do,” before shuffling off quickly.
“He moves pretty quick for a big boy,” Clutch said, before adding, “especially in those heels.”
“I should ask him for tips,” I said looking down at the overpriced torture devices currently strapped to my aching feet.
“No use being in pain,” Clutch said, plainly. “Why don’t you take ’em off.”
“Because they match my outfit perfectly,” I said. “That’s why I bought them. I’ve never had the chance to wear them, and I never get dressed up and go out anymore, plus I wanted to look cute tonight.”
“Doc,” Clutch said with a slow smile that lit up his usually sullen face. “You’d have to be beaten with the ugly stick for a week to get you down to cute. You look absolut
