“Yeah, well. My compliance with society’s requirement of being overly polite and politically correct ends at my doorstep.” He laughed, a husky ...ound that quenched something inside her yet scraped only the edge of her trust. “Yeah? Sure you mean that?” She crossed her arms, bunching the T-shirt under her breasts. Fisting her hands, she straightened her back and narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes. So tell me. Why are you really here?” After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.” Swiping the plates from the. He hoped the prize was enough to buy new tires of his Mustang. When he saw the waitress approaching the table with his order, he returned the ticket to the envelope and pocketed it, again. He downed the rye, wrapped the sandwich in a napkin and stuffed it in his jacket pocket, and placed $20.00 on the table and left. Michael walked the five miles home, keeping one hand in his pant pocket the whole way with his fingers in constant contact with the envelop and with his other hand holding the. More

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