It’s a beautiful day, so Hayes recommends we take our usual Monday morning Frisky Business meeting outside.
The sun shines brightly overhead, the wind whipping between skyscrapers as we walk toward Grant Park, morning coffees in hand. Car horns and bicycle bells may be irritating to some this early in the morning, but I’m grateful for the background noise. Anything to drown out the incessant questions from Caleb about my weekend.
“Come on, you’ve got to give me something,” Caleb says, jogging to my left side so he can meet my pace in stride. “Did you take my advice? Did you go to a class? Please say it was the blow-job one.” He grins wickedly.
somethingThe bastard.
The bastard.“Fine,” I say, relenting with an eye roll. “I took her to dinner at the bistro and told her about the classes.
