Romantically. But she wasn't available; at least she shouldn't have been. And she shouldn't have been slowly crushing our friendship by trying to turn...it into something else — something I told her I didn't want."Listen to yourself," I said accusingly and in a harsh whisper so the patrons around us at the coffee shop wouldn't hear. "You're married. You have two beautiful kids. Nothing's wrong in your life. And now you're acting like it'd be a good idea if you and I just — I don't know — HOOK. "Are you still there or has Debbie dragged you out for a night on the town?"A large African American appeared. "Good evening Mr. George," he said in that funny anachronistic way of his. He is anything but servile, but he greets the tenants like it was still the 1920s. "How nice of you to ask," he continued. "No Debbie has deserted me - she is visiting her folks upstate this weekend, so I'm still here." He looked inquiringly at Laura."Ramone, this is Laura Jones. She doesn't exactly see eye to. More

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