Sloane.She swiveled her laptop around. Sort of an accusatory finger of a device when it suddenly confronts you at nine in the morning. Especially when...you’ve only had one cuppa with your b. and eggs. Wandy giving me the old heave-and-ho, “You can’t be late again, Birdie.”But there I was, frozen in time, standing in that damnable streetcar. In full profile, in this case.Ms. Sloane turned the screen back to face her. Was that a small smile? “All right, I’ve examined the evidence, Birdie.”I. Maybe someday. He walked so fast I had no chance to make small talk.“Here we are. After you milady.” He had a small apartment only 2 or 3 times larger than the home Fran and I share. He locked the door. I put my bag on his sofa.“Live here alone?”“Alone. Except you are here now.”I said, “Shower time.” Then gave him a sloppy wet kiss and a crotch rub which he returned.I started to strip. He pulled $200 from his pants and put the money on my bag saying, “In case we are having too much fun I don’t. More

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