She held her hand over the phone. "You guys, what should I say?"I grabbed Lisa's hand, twisted it in front of me. I spit over her engagement ring.Lisa...smirked deviously, held the rock over her mouth. Leaning back, presenting her body like a sexual idol-the mountainous contour of her tits silhouetted in the sinful brume-she drove her hips upward, and with her hand above her, the spit fell and suspended in midair like taffy, then flopped down over the side of her mouth. Carnivorous, she lapped up. “Michael asked me to phone you? The agency?” She had that annoying inflexion where everything was a question.“Yes. Yes, he mentioned it,” I said, still in a state of shock, “where are you calling from?”“Australia.”“You don’t sound Australian. You sound...”“I’m from Cyprus. We came over about ten years ago.”“We?”“Yes, my husband and I.”“Okay.”“Do you have any questions? About Michael that is.”“Yeah, umm, okay, how did you meet him?” It seemed the obvious place to start.“Last year, on the. More

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