““I was really looking forward to this,” I said. “But Churchill’s son is sick, and I need to run a few errands for him.” “Which son?” “The oldest one. Gage. He’s an asshole, but he’s got the worst case of flu I’ve ever seen. And he’s Churchill’s favorite. So I’ve got no choice. I’m so sorry. I—” “Way to go, Liberty!” “Huh?” “You’re thinking like a sugar baby.” “I am?” “Now you’ve got a Plan B in case your main sugar daddy dumps you. But be careful…you don’t want to lose Daddy while you’re reelin...g in the son.” “I’m not reeling anyone in,” I protested. “This is simple compassion for a fellow human being. Believe me, he’s not a Plan B.” “Sure he’s not. Call me, sweetie, and let me know what happens.” “Nothing’s going to happen,” I said. “We can’t stand each other.” “You lucky girl. That’s the best kind of sex.” “He’s half dead, Angie.” “Call me later,” she repeated, and hung up. In about forty-five minutes I returned to the condo with two bags of groceries.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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