“What the hell are you doing here? You’re hardly dressed. Do you want to get me arrested?” he growled at me. “Let me go or I will scream and m...ke sure you do. I’m sure the lovely Mrs. Weatherly would love to report it.” He released me and stepped back. Walking into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and took out a pitcher of lemonade. After pouring a glass and handing it to me, he sat down at the table. I took a few sips and set the glass down.“What do we need to talk about exactly?” he asked. " "Hey, I'm sorry if I upset you," but she didn't look sorry. She looked somehow superior, like she was some woman of the world or something instead of just another housewife in a suburb. "I just like to get a rise out of you every so often." She rose from her chair and bent across the table, moving inches from my face, her lips just out of reach. "Tomorrow, my place," she swept across my field of vision. God, I hope she didn't notice me looking down her top. "Don't be angry with me." I wasn't. More

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