C was so turned on by all this. She made me promise to relay every sordid detail. I think the coming weekend will be interesting. She’s already m...ade plans for me to spend the weekend with them. Girl-talk. Sordid, sexy girl-talk. And, despite the teasing, Mr. C doesn’t mind. It generally leads to two naked women clambering after his body.He grasped my hand. “It’s not too late to change plans.” I shook my head while holding his eyes with mine. “I’ll make it up to you … somehow.”I leaned. "There are going to be some changes around here, Ursula."I nodded, brain rebooting after its crash, struggling for words. "Yes. I want you to-" I paused, trying to catch my breath in his palm, hunting for a solution among the serotonin flotsam. "I want you on the management team. Heading up sales with Mags."There was nothing but his slowing breath in my ear as he considered it. I could sense his smile forming. "It’s a start. But I want more."I blew out past his hand. "Like what?"He lowered his. Did I get hit on while dining out alone, wandering through the casino, while attending the Cirque du Soleil unaccompanied, and while standing by myself and admiring Bellagio's fountains? You'd better believe it. Dressed to the nines in my new killer body, I'd have been crushed if I hadn't. I was also proud of the way I managed to say no to the potential suitors without putting them down. I am woman; hear me roar.I briefly considered looking up Anthony Ferrari, the pimp that murdered John. I just assumed he had a long day and went in and went to bed. He was not on the couch and the tv was off so that pretty much meant he was asleep. I figured I would just go ahead and get me a drink before I went in there. After sex I just wanted to pass out, so this would save time. I poured myself some Woodford Reserve and sat at my bar in my kitchen. I was a very healthy person for 99 percent of the day, and my one vise, was that nighttime drink. Some people say it is healthy and some people.