Dan and Wendy again admired the richly wooden decorated interior. At their table, it was undecided on the seating plan.“We all want to sit beside Da..., we’ll take turns,” Wendy suggested.Tracy smiled, recognizing Andrew approaching their table. Dan noted all three of his lovelies looking at the bulging crotch in Andrew’s pants.“Hi Tracy, It’s nice to see you as a customer here instead of working the tables,” he smiled, unable to resist looking at her fabulous figure.“Hi Andrew, I’m working this. By the time they did "Rosalita" she was standing on a chair. Yelling a lot. I knew the words, she didn't, so when they did "Thunder Road", I made sure I sang the "Show a little faith, there's magic in the night" line right at her. Because it was true. And I was rewarded with That Smile. Times ten.She babbled the whole ride home about how great it was. Another convert for BossMania. I walked her to her porch, and, instead of running in the door, she grabbed me. And kissed me, long and deep. I. AndJessica knew him, she would feel comfortable with him. "And," she added,"we both know you're a real home-body, Sam. You always preferred stayinghome rather than going out." That was true, he had to admit, and it stillwas. In fact, it was one of the reasons they had drifted apart, sinceBecky liked going out and having fun.In the end he agreed. He would move in and share Becky's condo with herand her fourteen-year-old daughter Jessica. He would not be herbabysitter exactly, but a sort of. For a moment, the car didn't react. I stared at the back of the driver's head, a woman with blonde hair. She didn't so much as flinch for thirty seconds. And then she jumped, throwing a look over her shoulder.And I saw it. A bitch's face. Rich, spoiled, the trophy wife of a rich tech billionaire who flocked to the Pacific Northwest. It made her think she was entitled to drive at breakneck speed through Tacoma down I-5.I shook my head, honking my horn. It blared a piercing siren. Her signal.
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