If she was home, she wouldn’t answer the door. I spent the rest of the week feeling sorry for myself. On Friday, Carl was at least tolerant when I ...howed him the revised numbers. He sent me back to my office for a few minor changes and left for lunch with some clients. I tried to get in touch with Christa all weekend, but didn’t have any luck. On Sunday evening, I realized I’d probably seen the last of her. Donna was right. It did hurt like hell. The alarm woke me in plenty of time to get to. My imagination did not need any more encouraging. I insisted that she spend the night at my place and tomorrow we will see about the car and getting you home. On the way home Contessa started to cry again. First she told me that her big date for the night was a no-show. Then a deer ran into her car in the middle of no where. And it will not be until tomorrow before she can get home. She was feeling very depressed. While Contessa was telling her problems. I reached over and pulled her to my. More

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