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He lay upstairs for an hour or so trying to iron out the one complication in his plan. It was easy if he didn't have a "chaperone" as the cop with no name had called it. Try as he might, he could not see a way past that. The only thing he could think of required a change to his normal routine, and he had a viable excuse for that. He clapped his hands together with glee and jumping up from the bed pulled out two suitcases and began packing.After he closed the second case he walked down to his. Before he opened the door, he read the inscription on it. "ThinkEXIT to leave." Puzzled by the message, the walked in and..."Excuse me!" Looking up he sees a man handing him a book. "I need asection of this book photocopied." Bill instinctively takes the bookfrom the man, photocopies it and hands it back to him, telling him to payat the cashier. "How did I know to do all that?" he asked himself. Then he started torealize how different he felt. He had breasts! His hands looked smallerand. I got in the shower.The water spilled down my hair and over my shoulders. I felt like a new woman. I soaped up my arms, my legs. The suds gathered in the drain by my feet.Through the marbled glass I saw Maxwell's pink figure in the doorway."So, maybe I'll come in for a nooner," he said."A what?" You know, a massage. During my lunch."So he hadn't called out. Why did he offer to spend the day before? Was he hoping I'd just skip work for him on the spot? Maybe it was just a brief fantasy of his, a. I’d done a smattering of flirting with Carrie in the recent past. She was a year younger, and as things turned out, we ran with the same packs, just had never crossed paths. I ordered a round of drinks, since I was riding the high-hog at the time. Sally accepted, sucking half her Malibu and coke down like a professional. Belle protested, saying she’d come into her own and wanted to buy me a drink. I waved her money down and handed a twenty to the waitress. Conversation came and went, as did.
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