“Sorry!” she apologized before turning back to me and whispering, “Now I mean it, stop it! …or no milk and cookies for little Johnnie tonight ...hen we get home!” “Who you calling little!” I teased her back. With great reluctance I forewent the usual poorboy drenched in garlic butter, choosing instead the half fried chicken, twice baked potato, and salad. Holly decided on the deep fried cod, twice baked potato and salad for herself. Warm fresh-out-of-the-oven bread was brought to our table as we. When she smiled, she tilted her head forward, exposing more of her eyes. ‘This is the writer I told you about,’ Ashley said. ‘Wow, you’re right,’ the redhead began. Her eyes widened and took a step back to get a better look at him. ‘He is handsome.’ She walked up and hugged Chance. She broke the embrace and introduced herself. ‘My name is Desiree. Can I call you Chance, or should I call you Mr. Pettijohn?’ ‘Chance is fine, Desiree.’ She smiled and leaned her shoulder into his body. ‘Chance, we. More

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