That Mr. Tanner, Jonathan, could call me Melissa and I could call him Jonathan. If that's okay." She smiled, then bit her lower lip and shrugged her s...oulders as she said this, shooting me a very quick, timid glance. "And if Andrea could call you Al. She thinks you look like an 'Al' instead of an Alex. You know, like Al Pacino."With mock exasperation, Carbone raised his eyes to a massive wood beam of the ceiling. "Is that it? Finally?" One final thing, Daddy. Our dresses are kind of, well sort. I fumed in the darkness and listened to her break down. My anger evaporated, as I had said what I wanted to say. She was really sobbing, a soul-crushing wail of despair. Listening to her cry broke my heart–I’m such a softie. Finally I sighed. I was going to get no sl**p with her crying like that and I was feeling bad about it also. “Amy, come here.” She didn’t move. “Amy, come here,” I ordered. She still didn’t react. “Bitch, don’t make me come over there,” I threatened. She got up with sob. More

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