Chapter 1

I had to laugh, that morning when I met Thibault the photographer. I didn’t laugh in his face, of course, but Shelly the makeup girl and I locked eyes and smiled secretly at each other several times, as Roberto introduced him to us and explained the concepts to everyone. This is the wonderful Thibault? I asked myself. This is the guy that’s going to turn the industry around? I could tell right away Roberto was having issues with him, issues and I’m sure second thoughts. Thibault was a Frenchman, so from the start I could imagine Roberto had issues with him. He was flouncy and nervous acting and spoke with a horrible almost fakey French accent. Once when I came back from peeing in the bushes he was waving his arms around and jabbering madly, while Roberto stared at him like he was crazy. I could tell that Don the lighting guy was almost cracking up, and I understood why. It was funnier than shit.

Cherise and I finally sat with Don and Shelly in folding chairs, and watched the show.

“Ve must vait for ze late afternoon sun...” Thibault the Great was saying. “Ze soft light vill soften ze cheekbones...”

“Thibault!” Roberto finally cracked. “Thibault, man. We’re shootin’ porn. This ain’t no fuckin’ artsy-fartsy coffee-table book shit. This is fuckin’ porn.”

“But ze light ... ze girls are pale, and ze late light...”

“Ze light is fucking fine. We’ve got floods and reflectors anyway, we don’t necessarily need ze sun. Dammit I’m doing it now. Thibault. People are gonna look at this shit and whack off. We are not going for the Pulitzer here.”

“Monsieur...” Thibault drew himself up to his full five foot five stature. “I am an arteest, foremost...”

“Dammit!” Roberto interrupted, “you gonna be an unpaid, out of work arteest if these pics aren’t on the site by tomorrow night. And the web guys need six hours. That gives us eight hours today to get shit done. I want at least four hundred sell-able cunt pics ... sorry ladies,” we nodded to let him know we weren’t offended. He raged on, picking up speed. “I want four hundred pics in at least six themes, by four this afternoon. I know that’s a lot in one day. But Donahue said you could deliver ... can you?”

He stopped and stared at Thibault. Thibault’s shoulder sank. He looked piqued, but he folded.

“Oui...” he said, and nodded. “Oui.”

Cherise was okay, but I wasn’t crazy about her. Well, it don’t matter, it’s just a job. She acted kinda snooty, and I think she looked down on me since she knew I was from Florida. Probably just that she knew I was from the states, period. We’d met her last night at the hotel, Roberto took us and Don and Shelly out to eat and told us what he expected of us. Well, what he demanded of us. I felt like I could do my part, I could deliver, a year and a half ago I would been shittin’ my britches, but I had picked up pretty quick the last little bit. I could tell Cherise was really steamed when Roberto tried to put us in the same room, she whined and begged and bitched until Roberto finally asked me to share a room with Don and Shelly, just to shut her up. I said sure, if they don’t mind, and of course they didn’t.

Don and Shelly Vandenburg might be married, or might just be shacking up, nobody’s figured that out. Don is a lighting guy, and Shelly does makeup, so they work out pretty good as a team in this business. I’d worked with them before, when I did my first sets with Roberto’s old photog, and was reasonably familiar with them. That night we hunkered down in the room and poked fun of Cherise. I told them I knew her a little, that we’d worked together once.

“We’ve worked with her a gazillion times,” said Don, “she’s a picky little high-strung bitch. She whines if they don’t get her special brand of bottled water and ridiculous shit like that.”

“Awww...” said Shelly. Shelly was almost too nice to be in this line of work, I’d thought before. She was a semi-frumpy housewife looking middle-ager, but she was damn good with a makeup kit. I knew the two of them together probably made the same that I pulled in, but hell ... I’d been doin’ this for almost two years now, but in a way I was just gettin’ goin’ ... the first year I’d just fucked away doin’ shoots here and there when I needed money. Still, I had to get some real experience beneath my belt before I could rake in the big bucks. I was still wonderin’ if I wanted to go that route, though. Shelly went on. “She’s just tryin’ to survive, tryin’ to swim faster than the sharks. And she knows it ain’t gonna last forever.”

I laughed. “You got any idea how old she is?” She had looked late twenties early thirties to me. It was obvious she’d taken good care of herself, but you couldn’t hide that shit forever. This was a youngster’s business, mostly eighteen to twenty two’s in it. You almost had to respect someone pushing thirty that was still making it. You didn’t have to like them, but you had to respect them.

“She’s twenty eight, I think...” said Shelly. Don nodded. I have no idea how or why they’d know, but I accepted it.

There’s a whole twisted little world, among the girls that do this shit for a living. A news network, and a grapevine or rumor mill, call it what you will. You lived and died in the business first by how you looked, and then by how you acted towards the producers, directors and photogs. That’s why I was surprised seeing Cherise nag on Roberto. If he dropped her and dissed her, word would get out, and she’d be screwed. Roberto was a big name in the industry, possibly the biggest. To take that risk, just because you didn’t want a roomie? Crazy.

I talked with Don and Shelly until almost midnight, and then we conked out. I knew from the grapevine that they swung, and I halfway expected them to ask me if I wanted to get in on it, but they didn’t ask and we just went to bed. Maybe it was too late, we all had to get up and be in the lobby by eight. I took a shower and hit the sack. Don snored a little, but I managed to get some quality sleep, the first in a week.

Cherise immediately pissed me off the next morning by asking if I’d taken a shower after I’d gotten up. When I said No, last night she rolled her eyes, and it just hit me wrong. Don’t worry, I said with some attitude, I’m clean. She kind of backed off and said, no, no, I’m not worried ... but why else would she say that? She’s gonna do this for a living, and be picky about shit like that? I hoped I was clean, but not spotless.

Everything went fine until nine when Thibault showed up. I done told you how that shit went, but finally him and Roberto hashed it all out, and we got down to business. Cherise acted like we were being persecuted because we didn’t have a dressing room or a tent to strip in, but fuck ... I mean, you’re just taking off your clothes. We were at the fucking beach, two miles out of town ... she told me Donahue had a tent for that shit, when she worked for him. I nodded, rolled my eyes when she turned her head, and yanked my clothes off.

It was a cool morning, and it felt good to be naked. Thibault looked at me and nodded, and spoke to Shelly. She dusted my face a little, did my lips and we all stood and waited on Cherise to get done taking her clothes off. She joined us at last, and Thibault started in on his concept for the beach shoot.

“Ze shadows will be harsh, so ve vill do B and W to see...” he said, when Roberto, who had been standing a ways off talking on his phone, slammed his phone shut and stomped over.

“Thibault! Last warning! No black and white shit! This is porn, goddammit, porn! I wanna see that pink in living color, not fucking black and white! No black and white, and no blurry Hamilton shit! Clear focus, full color, lots of detail. I wanna count individual hairs, if she’s got hairs. Got it?”

Thibault sniffed and nodded, and busied himself with his camera, studiously ignoring Roberto. Roberto shook his head and stomped off. When he passed me, he mumbled “I gotta baby-sit this bastard...” and I smiled at him. Roberto winked, and went and sat on the hood of the land rover, back on his phone. I like Roberto, and have from day one. He’s the first I ever shot for. And he’s never ever came onto me or demanded favors, a first in this business. I gotta admit, I’ve wondered a time or two if he’s gay, but then once I saw him once outside a motel holding hands with a woman. I’ve heard she’s his steady, and she just works in an office, she’d doesn’t even do pictures. Although she was cute enough that she could have.

Thibault talked to me a moment, and I could tell how little he knew about me when he called me Penelope, my stage name, the name I shoot under. I didn’t bother to correct him, I didn’t really care about him. If he thought I shoot under my real name, so what. It was funny enough hearing him say it in his goofy accent.

Thibault finally got busy, and did fairly well in spite of himself, I thought. He gave direction well, and was patient, especially patient since Cherise was a little prima donna-ish that morning. But we got through the shoot by ten, and jumped in the land rovers and headed out into the sticks for whatever was next.

All Cherise and I had done was kiss, on that first shoot. We did kiss each other’s tits some, and I kissed her butt once when I was on my knees, just for a laugh. Thibault smiled and nodded, but Cherise frowned for some reason. Whatever. I knew from what Thibault had said earlier the next shoot was going to be a little sexier, it was on the porch of a cabin, and I had seen Don packing some blankets that morning at the hotel.

I had just chanced to sit up front in the rover that Roberto was driving. Shelly and Thibault were in the back seat. Don was driving Cherise and the kid in the other rover. As soon as we left the beach, Roberto leaned over towards me, and spoke softly to me.

“Gracie, darling,” he said, “I’m sorry about that shit last night. I should have stomped her ass down but I didn’t. I’ll let you have a room to yourself tonight.”

“That’s okay, Rob,” I said, smiling. “I don’t mind being with Don and Shelly.”

“I swear this is the last time I use Cherise,” he said, “she’s turned into a cranky old bitch. She used to be a lot of fun...”

He’d said that last part almost wistfully, and I understood. I knew from the grapevine that they’d been a couple for a while, hell, she’d even lived with him for six months or so. I wondered what had broken them up. In this business, it’s usually not hard to guess.

“Yeah,” I said, “I’ve worked with her before. I did a shoot with her and Red Dog a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah,” he said, “The Dog told that when I saw him last week. He’s kinda why I asked CC for you. The Dog says ... he say’s you’re the next big thing.”

We both laughed. I was pleased. I had wondered earlier if Red Dog was why Roberto had asked for me again, for this time. No biggie, but I was pleased. Word of mouth was big in the business, and it had helped me, this time. I was confident that I could keep Roberto pleased with me, and actually ... he was a good boss ... just do what he asked, and he’d be fair to you.

“Lemme tell you a secret,” he said. “This next shoot ... when you’re gettin’ it on with her ... try this. Stick your finger in her puss, and find her g-spot, a few inches inside, up in the front. Rub her there for a while, and she’ll cum like crazy. Thibault will love the shit out of you, if you can make her cum for real.”

I nodded. I knew Cherise usually pretended, she’d told me on the last shoot we did that it was hard for her to cum. I was sorry for her, until I got to know her better. To me, this shit is as fun as real sex, if you get to cum every now and then. I never had a problem with it, hell, sometimes I would cum from just having my cunt played with. That, and since I was a kid I got off from puttin’ on a show for people.

We got to the cabin, and the guys dragged everything out. This one needed floods, and it took a while for Don to set all the shit up. Cherise and I walked around and looked at the place. It looked like a small operational farm, there were cows and pigs and all that shit. After Shelly finished our makeup Cherise and I walked down the driveway, and turned and looked back. The main house was next to us, and a young boy and girl stood on the porch and watched us. I waved at them, but they just stared, they didn’t wave back. I wondered if they would watch, when the shoot started. I kinda hoped not, that would be weird, but I’d had it happen before. People like to spectate, when the shoot starts ... some for obvious reasons, and some for not so obvious. I’d been on a shoot in San Francisco that was shut down by a mob of white-robed jeezus freaks wearing billboards. Some people really got offended by naked girls.

Roberto finally called to us, and we went back to the cabin. Once again we stripped, this time Cherise got in the rover and stripped and got back out. As usual we waited on her. Don and Thibault had spread a blanket on the porch of the cabin, and we started there, just holding each other. Thibault gave us a little direction but not much, and we got more and more involved. At last I was spread out on the blanket and she was between my legs, lapping my clit. It felt good, damn good, that’s not something you usually fake, and Thibault was right in there with the camera, getting very close. I felt my legs tensing up, and I knew I was gonna cum, fairly quickly. I closed my eyes, but a few seconds later when I opened them I chanced to look off to the side. There, to my dismay, stood the boy and girl, watching us, with a woman talking to them. That really stopped the fun for me. I wondered what she was telling them, if she was telling them it’s normal and natural and nothing to be ashamed of, or maybe ... look at the godless heathens rutting like savages. I mean, why would you let your kids watch shit like this? I’m not ashamed of what I do for a living, but I’m not overly proud of it, either. I supply a product that there is an ever-increasing demand for ... I mean, it’s a business, for god’s sake. But ... here the public was, gettin’ an eyeful.

I was embarrassed to cum, now, but I felt it taking me over, and I clamped my mouth shut and came as silently as I could. I heard Cherise laugh softly below me, and I liked her for a minute or two. After I calmed down a little she just hugged me, and I whispered “thanks,” to her. We rolled, and I spread her legs as Thibault clicked away. I leaned into her, and finally tasted her. Me? I thought. She’s worried about me? Sure, five or six hours had gone by since she’d probably took her shower this AM, but ... damn ... she wasn’t bad, but shit she tasted. She tasted strong ... not really offensive, but strong. I couldn’t remember if she’d tasted like this in Monaco ... I think I would have remembered it if she did. Cunts are funny, they have their own flavor, and I’m sure it depends on where you are in your cycle. I’m pretty familiar with my own taste, from my fingers and the faces of my partners, and I never remember myself being that strong.

Anyway, I licked her clit, and finally worked two fingers inside her, remembering what Roberto had told me. She stared down at me, and I wondered if she knew Roberto had told me her secrets. She finally smiled, and I started rubbing her smooth silkiness, deep inside her body. After a minute she really let go and came, then, it just blasted through her like an electric shock or something. I wondered what the kids thought of that, if they were close enough to really see what was going on. I was even impressed, and I heard Thibault cussing softly to himself, and then laughing.

That was it, we ended with kissing and hugging, and finally Thibault pointed his camera at the sky and said, “Oui, Oui!” I got my shorts and t-shirt off the hood of the rover and put them on. Cherise, of course had to climb back in the truck and get dressed. The children and the woman were gone, thank goodness. The guys cleaned up the site, and we all piled in, and took off for the next place.

We were done by six that evening, Roberto had his pictures, and he was mailing them off to Dallas with his laptop. We all had dinner, our last meal paid for by the company, and wandered back to the motel.

Cherise was walking behind the others with me, and she took my hand, giving me a moment’s pause at her intentions. She leaned into me, and I felt her breath in my ear.

“Stay with me tonight, darling...” she said. I looked at her, and against my better judgment, nodded. If that’s what she wanted. Why did she want it, now, though? Why was I suddenly good enough? Because I’d made her cum?

I got my stuff from Don and Shelly’s room, and moved it to Cherise’s. She was watching TV, and we sat and did that for a while, and then talked some. She, like she’d done in Monaco, gave me a big long rambling lecture on how to plan my career out, what to do and not do, all the shit. I sat through it patiently, I’d gotten this before, from other old-timers. Passing the torch shit, I called it.

I was sitting on the bed, and she finally got up and sat next to me. She reached out almost hesitantly, and put her arms around me. We both giggled, and slowly put our mouths together. She wasn’t a bad kisser at all, and I sighed and lay back, her on top of me. I glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was barely ten. I’d give her a few hours of this shit, and then hit the sack. This wasn’t really my bag, but I was no stranger to another girl in my arms. It would beat the hell out of watching TV.

I woke up, in the middle of the night. My back was against Cherise’s back, and she felt hot, like she had a fever. It felt good, in the chill of the room. I looked at the clock, as was my habit, and wondered what time it was back home, back in Cocoa Beach. I wondered what my parents were doing, if they’d gone to bed yet. You need to call Momma tomorrow, I told myself, you really need to call her and let her know you’re okay. You know how much she worries. I wondered what I could tell them. I’d told them a week ago I was hiking in the Alps, since I’d actually been in the Alps for a few days. I even sent her a pic from my phone of the mountains. I said a prayer again, as I did every night, to the god I didn’t believe in any more, don’t let them find out, god, please, don’t let them find out what I do for a living.

I was back home in Orsay for almost a week before I got a call. It was Red Dog again, with a HC shoot with a guy I’d worked with before. Red Dog sweet talked me, although he didn’t have to, he said he’d seen a spark between the two of us, and he wanted to get some more shots while it was still hot. I just laughed, I didn’t remember a spark or nothin’, I was just doin’ my job. The guy was Darren DeWitt, another newcomer, a guy that was takin’ the business by storm. Hell yeah I’d do it, shit like that couldn’t do nothin’ but help me. He told me to get my ticket at Miki’s the next day, shoot through the Chunnel and be in England by next evening.

I sat around that evening and talked to Madelon, my room-mate. We hadn’t seen each other for a while, and had a lot to catch up on. She’s in the business too, and we always seem to have a lot in common, although we don’t have time to hang around together much. I knew she’d just come off a shoot with Red Dog and the Southsiders, and we talked about that.

“Gracie,” she said. “All the Dog wanted to talk about was you. He’s mad crazy about you. You’ll get some of that shit, I’m sure, when you see him.”

Yeah, I’d been able to tell last time he liked me. He’s subtle, but he makes his desires known. I’d basically pretended like I didn’t understand what he was talking about last time I’d worked with him ... and truth be known, it had been hard to figure out. He was polite, for an old fart, but obtuse.

“He’s not bad...” said Madelon. “I’ve ... I’ve spent my time with the Dog. He took me to the coast for a week last year. He really helped me along, he got me some jobs that I wouldn’t have been able to pull off, on my own.”

Yeah again. I knew Red Dog could boost my career big time. I wasn’t sure if I was willing to make that trade, though. And I wasn’t sure why not. I’d played around a little with a producer or two ... oddly, though, never with Red Dog or Roberto, the two guys that had actually helped me the most. I’m not sure why not ... well, with Roberto, he never acted like he wanted to. I wondered what Thibault would expect from me, next time I saw him. I wondered, like I’d wondered about Roberto before, if Thibault was gay. A surprising number of guys in this business were gay, which seemed odd to me, all the foxy girls that were also involved. Well, probably ... more guys were bi than gay, actually. I understood. There weren’t just foxy girls in the business, there were lots of cute hot guys. Cute hot guys with big cocks.

Speaking of big cocks ... now I was scheduled to do a shoot with Darren ... he wasn’t the biggest, but he was damn close. He’d torn me a new one, almost, a month ago ... at least I’d heard that shoot was still burning hot on SevenWeb ... once again I wished to shit I got a percentage, not just a flat fee. Somebody else, as usual, was gettin’ rich off my ass. We get paid pretty good, but, like I said, we don’t get rich.

Anyway, the next few days would be interesting ... we were doing video, as well as stills. I petted my poor little pussy that night, and told it not to worry. Darren was big, but he had good technique, he’d never hurt me, though he’d stretched me. I wondered if they’d want him to do my butt ... that’s something about this line of work I accepted, but I didn’t always like ... I didn’t wanna tear my asshole up, I’d seen pics of girls, old-timers, who had totally fucked up their assholes from being fucked in them so much. I didn’t want that, I liked my cute little asshole, and I didn’t wanna have to wear a diaper when I got old. Maybe I’d text Red Dog tomorrow, and ask him.

I crossed the Chunnel the next afternoon, and was in Kingston by evening. They put me up in a fleabag, but I didn’t care. That next morning a taxi picked me up, and took me to the shoot. It was in another fleabag hotel, in the old part of town.

I walked in the room and Darren grabbed me and hugged me, and we laughed and kissed. He just had his undershorts on, and I could see his bulge was bulgier than ever. I pinched it and he laughed again.

“Gracie, babe...” he said. “I wanna take you to the Islands. Let’s get this shit over with, and take a holiday...”

I wondered if he was serious. I liked Darren, I really liked him ... but I couldn’t see spending the rest of my life with him. Hell, right now I couldn’t see spending the rest of my life with anybody. I just shook my head.

“I got shoots ‘til July,” I lied. “Then we’ll think about it.”

He actually looked sad and kinda pensive for a moment, and I wondered again how he really felt about me. About that time Red Dog came into the room.

Red Dog is a cowboy, a real Texas cowboy. How he got into this shit I’ll never figure out, and nobody’s been able to tell me his story. That’s no big deal, most everyone in this industry has a past to hide. One intriguing thing about him is the little teardrop tattoo beneath his eye, somebody told me a long time ago that means you killed somebody in prison or some shit like that. I asked him once, after we’d downed some tequilas in El Paso, but he just shook his head and looked sad. Like I said, everybody got somethin’ to hide.

Well, everybody but me. I ain’t done shit other than barely finish high school, and take off my clothes for the camera. I’ve never held a real job, other than some part-time shit in school. I posed for the first time two days after I turned eighteen, and have never looked back. I half-way believe what more than a few people have said, that I’m hot property at the moment, but I know it won’t last forever. There’s always a new one in the wings. I knew I had to make the best of it, while it lasted. A few girls have hung on, just a few ... but the world is full of has-been porno actresses. I had almost already accepted I’d be one of those someday.

“Howdy, Darlin’,” said Red Dog, and crushed me to his body. I felt something beneath his shirt and wondered again if he carried a gun. In Europe? That was crazy. But like I said, he was a real cowboy.

“You and me gotta talk,” he whispered, and I thought oh shit, here we go again. I wondered if I should just give in to him ... I felt like I almost owed it to him. Like I said, he’d done nothing but help me, so far. And a little more help wouldn’t be bad. In a way, I thought, I’d almost rather go to the Islands with him than Darren ... I’m not sure why, though.

I put my mouth in his ear. I knew it felt sexy. “Yeah,” I said. “We’ll talk.”

He let me go, and nodded to his photog, a guy I’d never seen before.

“Take it off, people!” the guy said loudly, and we began.

An hour later I was on the bed, my ass in the air as Darren squeezed his massive cock into it. Relax, I told myself, holy fuck relax ... it was hard, though, and fuck ... he kinda hurt me. I knew it wasn’t his fault ... but damn, it hurt. The photog had introduced me to a woman, a masseuse, I think, and she’d taken me in the bathroom and given me an enema to clean my guts out. I’d assured her that I’d pooped that morning, but she said David, the photographer, insisted. He didn’t want any shit in his shots. I understood, but it was embarrassing, although a little sexy when she’d spread my ass and gently put the enema nozzle into my asshole. At least she’d left when I pooped, and I had a little quality private time, sitting on the john, playing on my phone, humming to myself.

Like I said, Darren was plowing and planting, pumping and panting, and my poor little ass was suffering. It was hard to look sexy, I kept wanting to grit my teeth, and about every fifth shot David took seemed to be my face. I wanted to cum, just because it’s what I usually do, and maybe it’d take my mind off the pain, I thought, but I couldn’t. I frigged my clit like mad, and thought of all the sexy shit I could, but it just didn’t happen so I had to pretend. Luckily I’m reasonably good at that. David was finally pleased, he took a few as Darren finally slid out of me, and at last it was over. The video guy finished up, I’m not sure if he got quality shit or not, since David and the stills were the main focus and had the right-of-way. Who knows.

I finally stood up, a bit woozy, and toddled off to the bathroom and pooped out Darren’s sperm. I was just wiping my ass when the door opened, and he walked in.

“Fuck, Darren!” I said, embarrassed. I’ve never been on the shitter in my life with somebody else in the room, except maybe my Mom when I was a kid. I actually tried to hide myself and he laughed.

“Gracie, honey,” he said, dropping his undershorts and getting in the shower. “I just fucked ya, darlin’. I’ve seen it all.”

I laughed, it was a bit dumb. He turned the water on, and motioned for me to get in with him.

“Come on in,” he said. “I won’t bother you ... promise.”

I sighed, flushed, and finally got in the tub with him. We scrubbed each other’s backs, giggling, and and I washed my pussy and ass. We giggled as he washed his cock. Finally he stopped and stared at me.

“Gracie,” he said, and I could tell he was serious. “Gracie, honey, just let me hold you for a minute.”

I nodded, and he wrapped his arms around me, and hugged me to his body. I felt his cock press against my thigh, and he didn’t even have a hard-on. I understood what he was feeling ... intimacy is non-existent in this business, and we all crave it. Doing this for a living seems to make it hard to find, in the business or out. I’d felt the pull even the other night with Cherise. I just let him hold me, and squeezed him back. We just stood under the hot water for a few minutes, and held each other. I cried a little, I’m not sure why, and when we finally pulled apart I could tell he’d been crying, too.

“Thanks, baby,” he said softly, and I kissed him, and we got out of the tub and dried each other off. When we got back in the living room everybody was gone except Red Dog.

“We gotta vacate, kids,” he said. “Renter comin’ back at four.”

Red Dog took us to dinner, and seemed to watch me, but he didn’t say anything else. Finally I was free. I shopped for a while at the mall, but didn’t buy anything. I finally called a girl I’d worked with that lived in Hatton, and asked if I could crash for the night. We had a fun evening, we made cookies and watched a movie, and finally about midnight she turned to me.

“You gotta go home tomorrow?” she asked. Her name was Twillian, and of course everybody called her Twill.

“Yeah, my ticket is for tomorrow morning,” I said, pulling it out to make sure.

“I wish you could stay,” she said. “I ain’t got no friends in this goddam town.”

I was surprised that she considered me a friend. It sounded like she did. I smiled at her.

“Twill, honey,” I said. “I’ll come back in a week or two, I promise. We’ll do some fun shit. Or, hell, if you cross the channel look me up. You can stay with me whenever, however long, if I’m there.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she said. “I know you’re busy, darlin’. I just get lonely sometimes.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I feel it too. It sucks.”