I knocked on Justine"s front door at exactly 7 p.m. Anne answered with a weary smile.
“Good evening, Mr. Sinclair,” she said as she waved me into the foyer.
“Oh, come on, Anne, you called me George a few hours ago. Besides, I hate it when you use my last name.” I whined with everything I had and she smiled mischievously. Great, I thought, Billy snaps at me and Anne teases. At least I could count on Justine for some sincere affection.
Justine was sitting on the couch reading a magazine and looked up from her half-glasses as I walked into the room. “Ah, George, darling! Oh, you look so much better today,” she said as I kissed her cheek and took the seat next to her.
“I feel better too. I think I just needed some sleep.” And I did feel better. The bump on my forehead had decreased to a se
