“Who does Fialko think posted the purse?” In my experience, most people know their own enemies. “Dog just loves the park.” A round-bellied Lilac laughs, wrangles the toy away, and tosses it further. Barking, the happy canine pounds two front paws on the dirt path, wiggles his tail in the air, and slobbers over his coveted object. Alexander Slate, the orchestrator of this outing, throws a ball to his Old English Sheepdog who bounds away and returns seconds later. Whatever bounty my friend presents, I fully intend to reject his job offer. In my opinion, we richly deserve a respite from our insane professions. The last few months have driven me bonkers. On the same page, I can’t wait to finish our business and return to the carriage house bedroom. Her plump lips curve up, she tucks a lock of dark hair behind her ear, and the pupils in her brown eyes widen. Sex on the brain, I squeeze my fiancé’s hand. With Christmas comes our approaching nuptials. In the past, such thoughts might’ve been depressing, but not this year. It’s hard to believe, but in a month, the sky’s puffy clouds will turn gray and let loose winter’s wrath. A Brit, I wasn’t prepared for Brooklyn’s blistering summer and welcome this cool, invigorating fall hike. Walking under the canopy of yellow, orange, and red leaves, I grab Lanita’s hand and shoot her a wink.
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