He knew of him, and knew he was a player, and, way out of his depth. "Anne, bejezzers, one drinks not gonna hurt ya...I promise" he replied winking at...her. "Ok...ill have a glass of cider. Just one mind. And Rob can't have one he's driving". "Ach, that's foin" he replied. Anne loved his accent, and knew that that was what made her like him so much. She'd been to Dublin once, on a hen weekend, and fell in love with the smooth dialect of the people from the south. It wasn't lost on Kevin, that. “What, man? What?” I ask.“You won’t tell a soul, right?”“Yes, just fucking get on with it.”“I’m having the most outrageous sexual experience I ever thought possible.”“That’s it? You’re getting laid and you can’t tell me. We’ve always tell each other everything.”“Just fucking wait, man. It’s way more than just getting laid. Give me a sec.”Robin takes a few deep breaths before his mouth finally opens.“I’m hooked up with this group of people. Every Saturday night I go to this spot out by the. Now both of you get out of my office and consider working out whatever differences you may have. And please trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to be in here again.”I opened the door and rushed around the corner. I leaned against a hallway wall, angry. I mean, what the fuck? This wasn’t my fault, and I didn’t even get a chance to defend myself. How is that fair?Emma’s footsteps caught my attention as I saw her exit.“Hey!” I shouted. She started to pick up the pace, not even glancing at. At the young age of 17, she had moved out of our house in Phoenix and had gone to LA to seek fame and fortune. Well, not exactly. She was cute, but certainly not star material. She knew that. She was petite, maybe 5”2, really trim, a huge mess of Dolly Parton style blonde hair and had a saucy attitude. At least she had when she left our house. We had visited her once shortly after she moved, just to see if she was OK and not into any trouble. She had been living with my oldest daughter in .