Every day when he arrived home from work, he heard the constant reminder that Linea was no longer in their lives.
"Emlee," Hector called. He began to wonder if parrots could get depressed. Lord knows he was.
He shuffled through the stack of mail, finding a manila envelope devoid of a return address, but he recognized the postmark as belonging to the town where the club was based.
He opened the letter and pulled out the contents. Another application from a woman wanting to be trained.
"Sorry. Not happenin. I'm done." He tossed the envelope into the trash.
He should call the president and inform him of his decision. He would still maintain his role as a business partner, but not an active one.
One week without Linea, and he had lost all interest in being a Dom.
Three beers and a peanu
