When clear, I lay back in the space staring at the open sky. "How the hell am I going to explain that to the hotel?"She lay back too, the crowns of ou... heads almost touching. "You speak French?" Nope." Me neither. But I should phone the concierge. See if I can change rooms. Where are you gonna get clothes?" No idea. With phone and wallet gone, I'll have to get my handler on the case." But… not tonight?" Unlikely." Sooo, guess you’re stuck here." Guess so." Beats another night of dinner for. “A lot of fresh ones out there, pal.”Jack turned and immediately found her, drained his glass, paid, tipped and went on out.“Good luck, pal.”That hard “pal” caused some concern, but, it fell away as he pushed open the door and the oppressive humidity of Florida slammed him, you guessed it-hard.“What?”She was talking to him, but, all he could make sense of was her tone, an accusatory rasp was plain.“Mr. Hot Stuff, huh?”“I beg your pardon?”“I beg your pardon?” Jack silently admonished. More

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