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You look lovely, Joan. Please join me so I don’t look like a loser wall flower or something.” She sat on the edge of the chair next to me with her...back straight and shoulders back. It thrust out her prominent display of breasts. Joan wore a strapless red dress with an acre of décolletage. The bodice made a heart shape as it wrapped around her breasts. It had a sparkly wide belt and the taffeta layers of the skirt fell far short of mid-thigh. I asked for her hand and presented the freesia. Where is my phone? I guess that’d be wherever I hurled my handbag. I pad through to the living room, grab the phone, and flop back down on my bed. I’ve got messages. A few of the brave ones from work have congratulated me. Well done for standing up to her, Emma. Brave girl, hun, call me when you want to talk. She deserved that, the cow. Wow, you went out in style, couldn’t have put it better myself! What exactly had I said? My memory is getting smoggy now. Maybe I should have held my tongue?. More

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