They talked for several minutes about their plans for the evening.I'm friends with Tom Clark, the owner of the racetrack, so I called him while Pam an... Janice were talking."Hey Tom. Pam Brown parked in my backyard today along with three cars of paparazzi. I called the cops on the paparazzi but I'm letting Pam off the hook." Are you shitting me Jack?" No really, she's sitting here in my living room right now. Anyway, she noticed the trophy and a photo of me on the racecourse. We got to talking. Do you mean Roger d’Argent? What an idea. He’s… well, he’s a brainless, chinless, snivelling mama’s boy. Although I probably wouldn’t put it quite like-‘ Cole’s scornful ha! had Sophie visibly reining in her temper, before she continued. ‘He hasn’t even asked me, that is to say, he did ask me once, three years ago -‘ ‘Bastard!’ ‘But,’ Sophie said, ignoring his interruption, ‘I said no. And I certainly am not marrying him now. Why the devil would you think such a thing?’ Cole’s lungs flooded. By the time he was past me Dora's expression had sunk to nuclear winter."What do you want?" she asked coldly.I smiled, full of cheer. I could afford to be in a good mood. I was about to make Dora a very unhappy woman."Good morning! I wish I could say how much of a pleasure it is seeing you again. I'm following up for Ginger Armstrong." I smiled more widely. "You remember her. The woman that can sue the pants off you for wrongful death if something else doesn't turn up?"Her frown became a scowl.. The camerawoman strutted behind us and when I looked back I realized she was already filming.At least it would be an authentic video, I smiled to myself.I gulped when we reached the bed and saw a pair of fluffy handcuffs.Miri noticed my reaction and simply giggled as she picked them up and turned to face me."You're going to do everything I say now, understand?" She cooed, her voice more dominant than I had ever heard.I nodded and held out my hands and only then noticed I was shaking.