CHAPTER 40
“That used to be me,” Tana said as she looked out at the crowd of mostly young white-collar professionals like herself.
She and Powell were seated at a window table at Drexel, the downtown dive that was packed with a happy hour crowd knocking back shots after a hard day at the office.
Tana could hear the beat of hip hop-flavored R&B percolating on the sound system. She flashed on Justin, remembering how they used to lay in bed and listen to music in the dark. Just the two of them, like they were the only people left in the world and all they wanted was the rush of each other’s bodies. She thought then that that would be enough. But it was never enough with Justin, who also wanted the rush of other women’s bodies, not just hers.
The memory lingered, then Tana pushed it out of
