”“We got a few hours. Want to hang out at my home?”“Well yeah, but your husband?”“If he’s there, he’s probably in his office. We’l... be quiet and head around back,” I said, wondering if Tyrell knew what I wanted.“Uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at my cleavage again.“Follow me,” I said, reaching for his other hand. I squeezed it and smiled softly.“Ok,” he agreed.******“Nice place,” Tyrell said after following me home. I grabbed his arm, leading him around the side of the house,. Was it the wailing of theMarketplace, where customers waited to have a section of eel lopped offby the butcher? Was it British rock? Was it rap, which was conqueringthe world?The car rode for miles. Finally, it pulled up next to a modern apartmentbuilding. The driver pointed to door 3A. I knocked.Instead, the Beatles were playing. Figures. A lot of women were dancing,some of whom didn't look quite like women. There were hard looking menchatting them up.Jabar came over and kissed my hand.. More

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