“It’s Heather,” he confided, “We‘re having issues.” Issues? Mr. and Mrs. Perfect? I was shocked. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I replie.... “I hope you guys can work it out.” “We might, and we might not,” Ted confided. I didn’t know what else to say. We boogied eleven and twelve and birdied thirteen and made par on fifteen, sixteen and seventeen. On the final hole, we were so far behind the guys we were playing with, that we decided to let them play on. Finishing the hole, Ted said he wanted to keep. " Sabrina stares at me with the sort of cold bored face that I've made the mistake of believing before. A lowly face masked by skillful make-up. Eyes too small with a crooked mouth and a wide flat nose. It's a face so tortured by its unevenness it favors the look of a scowl. The perfect expression to keep her subordinates in place. All but me who loves that face for its pitifulness. I stare at her sad features but my gaze is drawn to her lean tan shape, a sort of sleight-of-hand performed. More

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