"No, no, no," he said emphatically. "Mr. Romero is the boss." OK," I said calmly, trying to feel how the conversation should move. "And Meg works for ...r. Romero?" Yeah." Back to the dead voice. "She likes him. I can't give her what she needs. I'm just a dumb jock. She shouldn't have married me because I'm just a dumb jock."This was not only repetitive, but pretty scary. I doubted this guy went through his whole life like this, because no one would have hired him to guard an outhouse, much less. She clarified that she was my manager and would be keeping track of my schedule and arranging for any of my requirements. I went to the hotel, and the next few days went pretty great. Wherever I went, Karen would be on my side.We used to roam around the city after getting over with the routine tasks. Used to take a walk at the beach (It was a rocky beach and not a sand beach. There was a long stretch like Marine Drive of Mumbai along the beach, except it was less crowded).The weather in the. More

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