Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop: Part 31
Later that evening, David and I were cuddled up on his leather sofa watching at CNN special when I told him about work. “That’s government for you,” he said. “Screw the people and get all of their money.” “You sound like Sonia.” “Cities aren’t about building neighborhoods. Especially this city.” “But. . .” His cell phone rang interrupting us. When he answered it, I stretched against him and heard a female voice on the other end of the phone. “You’re downstairs?” he said, and then rose to his feet causing me to tumble from the sofa. What the? “I’ll come down.” He stuffed his feet into a pair of sneakers as I stood up. “What the hell?” I asked. “Sorry about that.” “Who’s downstairs?” “I’ll be right back,” he said then headed out the door. Color me curious and slightly salty. Three beats passed before I slipped on my shoes and headed downstairs. This felt fishy. Or maybe I was borrowing drama. Didn’t matter, I wanted to know who sent him scampering outside. My ...