" I have a guess, but I don't really know what you're talking about." Well, I mean sex."Warren blushed, and thought for a minute. "Mom, you always sai... I could tell you anything, and I can't lie to you. That particular genie has been out of the bottle for some time now."Peg's jaw dropped. "You're kidding." She paused. "Are you sure we're talking about the same thing?" Are you asking me if Sophia and I are sleeping together? Yes. Sophia and I are sleeping together." Oh, Jesus, Warren. You are. My dick twitched.My mind was in turmoil. I'd never really thought of Rachael sexually this way before. Our Rachael had always been the safe girl in my life, someone I could confide in. She was the one I could always talk to, the one who would always listen. She was the one who always picked up the pieces when I got dumped by my girlfriends. She was probably the only person with whom I was completely honest. And now, because of one silly daydream, she wasn't our Rachael anymore.She opened her. . and wondered why she had been so reluctant to give up a night alone in her dumpy apartment for a French meal at Fisherman's Wharf overlooking the San Francisco Bay.She glanced around the restaurant again. The lights were low, the atmosphere hushed. Waiters moved across the deep carpet as quietly as cats. And Francois, her date for the evening, with his lean, handsome face, his classic features, the touch of gray at his temples that made him look even more distinguished than his accent could. Being a dispatcher for a small transport company in a small country town in the middle of nowhere had lost a lot of it's appeal over the months and I was giving my continued employment in this field considerable, and critical, thought.As usual, it being a Monday, a number of my drivers had reported in that they weren't fit to work and, the fact that I was starting the week down a couple of drivers, was really helping to cheer me up.I had my head down studying my work diary and, with my phone.