T--’s dreamgirl never showed up for dinner. He was crushed.
“Cold feet,” he said. “We were moving too fast.”
He needed to drown his sorrow, so I took him to Poppy’s last night. Loretta joined us for much of the sadness because business at the bar was slow.
T-- caught her up to speed on the weekend. He confessed to playing the part of an out-of-town businessman, and as he dished the details it occurred to me that this woman was playing a game of her own.
“Holy crap,” I said. “Did you ever think of that?”
“Of course I thought of that,” he said.
When he said that, I knew he was...
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