"I glare and add, "Yes, and let her check the horses."She pushes my damn buttons one more time, "I thought you were going to let me go once you got he...e."I angrily reply, "I said we'd let you go when we found our team. Does it fucking look like we've found our team yet?"She complains some more, "This is fucking kidnapping!"My loving husband Frank intervenes before I slap the shit out of her. He again explains, "As I said before that's your word against all of ours. Come on honey lets go."Frank. I chose to answer honestly, saying ‘Yep, it’s just me. It works for me. I don’t have far to go to the office, my gym’s close, and all the best restaurants are within walking distance.’ That last statement seemed to disturb her. I watched her face fall and she quickly said, ‘I could have met you at the restaurant. You didn’t have to pick me up. If I had known you preferred to walk, I would have drove myself.’ I rushed to her defense, saying ‘I asked you out, remember? I didn’t mean that I prefer. It was different with one person, however, the person she was closer to than anyone in the world, her sister Sylvia, who was 15 going on 20. Sally’s mother had divorced their father when she was 14, and had remarried less than a year later to the tennis pro at the country club to which they belonged, just to spite their dad. Sally’s dad had been a wealthy businessman, but he was considerably less wealthy after his wife cleaned him out in the divorce. She’d come home unexpectedly to find him. Molls, really? Come on now. You know better than to ask me something like that. Its not ethical. Just let it go. Uh huh, thats what I thought, my daughter said and smiled as she straightened her body and stood in front of my desk. Thought what? Dont you try to get into my head. I said let it go, I answered and picked up the pen again to work more on the contract. Oh daddy! Please! You are avoiding my question. I know when you do that, theres more there. You are too easy to read. You did like.