"I know this means we'll have to renegotiate our deal, but you should be happy for me." I am," I lied."Don't worry, with the little scholarship I got,...and the tips you've been getting lately you'll be able to quit in two years, maybe less. Plus I think deep down you're beginning to like living as a bitch."Deep down I was vomiting. "I can't live like this for two more years. We had a deal!" You'll do whatever the fuck I say. Or did you want me to send out some mail?"I hate her.I figured my life. They bought the four pieces of pressed board and wrapped them with a plastic tarp which I paid for as well. They were back before the four o'clock deadline. The best they could do was push the board into the house before I paid Tomas for the day.After he had gone The Brit asked me, "How do you feel about hanging this shit. It will be a damn sight easier before it starts to pour rain."I'll give it a try as long as you hold the nails for me to hit with the hammer," I held up my club hand."Tell. “Don't be,” I said. His expression grew more peaceful, the torment in remission for the short term. I diverted my gaze from his, the fresco like effect in the bedroom soothed my racing mind. Artistic to a fault, the sweeping outlines of someone's handy work came alive. For the fist time perhaps. “It's quite superb, isn't it?" he said. “Tremendous, a bit like a Michael Angelo in minimal form.” He turned back to me, “We have much catching up to do, my sweet.” There was no perfect solution, all I. Jim said he knew I was only joking but someone like me would be ideal. I asked him why he thought I would be ideal. He said that Mike was already comfortable with me and he trusted me not to kiss and tell. I told Jim that I wasn’t joking and if it wasn’t for the fact that at forty-two I was literally twice Mike’s age that I would give it serious consideration. I can’t be sure if Jim was trying to flatter me by saying I only looked about thirty-five but I was happy to take the compliment. Who.