Peoplerecoiled, yes, they actually recoiled, grew smaller, shriveled up underthe critical scrutiny. Phoebe had once even seen her mom's boss cowed whe...he returned from the printer with an order of office stationary thatClaire had deemed substandard. She was only this way with the peopleclosest to her, though. With strangers and casual acquaintances, she wasusually a lot more charming and deferential. "I don't care what thosepeople do or don't do," was the reason she gave for leaving others. “You’re NOT my slave! Cut that out, babe!” I half-seriously retorted.“True, slavery was a despicable institution and my ancestors rightly hated it. However, I have the feeling that you would have worn the blue, not the gray, and I would have greeted my liberator with legs spread and my lips around your cock. Oh, and thank you for that,” Becky told me mysteriously as we ate.“For what?” I wondered.“Calling me ‘babe.’ I like the sound of that. You did it in a flash of anger, too, meaning that. More

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