“Wakey wakey.”
The bed sank next to Tori as Scott sat. “Ughhhh,” she groaned. “Just give me five more minutes,” she mumbled into the pillow.
“I brought you some coffee.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Come on. This is your big day.”
A knot formed in her stomach, a mix of dread and excitement. Today she was heading to San Antonio to paint.
To paint.
Something she thought she’d never try again. She’d gone to the sculpting class with Judith the day before and that was enough of a struggle for her. Painting would be even harder.
He stroked her back. “I also have a present for you.”
“A present?” She lifted her head off the pillow. “I’m listening.” She sat up and made a give-me motion for the coffee.
He placed the mug in her hands.
The aroma of the coffee instantly roused her. She breathed it in. “What kind of present?”
“Just something I had shipped from DC to brighten your day.”
“Well, now I’m intrigued.” She smirked and took a sip of the warm, sweet coffee. He always made it just as she liked it.
Voices already echoed from the kitchen down the hall. She’d figured it was just some dumb stereotype that people who lived on a farm got up early. Nope. Like clockwork, the Harris family was up at six am every damn day.
“I’m not sure if this house can handle two fiery redheads,” Wayne’s voice boomed.
Two?
There was a round of laughter and then a familiar high-pitched cackle reached her ears.
“Is that…” She cocked her head to the side and placed her coffee on the night stand.
Keith?
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m staying in a hotel.” His voice echoed down the hall. “Your home is lovely though. I love the country feel; very Cracker Barrel cozy.”
Most definitely Keith.
Scott snorted and walked toward the door. “Oh, don’t let him fool you. I offered for him to stay here, but princess said he needed at least one-thousand thread count on his sheets,” he shouted down the hall.
“You stay out of this, mister!” Keith hollered back.
Tori shrieked, tumbling out of bed, taking the comforter with her. She scrambled up off the floor trying to untangle herself from the bedding.
Scott laughed and pulled her up by her arm, simultaneously freeing her from the sheet. “Slow down there, crazy. You’re gonna break your neck.”
Tori threw her arms around Scott. “Oh my god; I can’t believe you flew him out here!” She planted her hands to his cheeks and gave him a sloppy kiss.
“Hey, I just picked him up from the airport. This was all his idea,” Scott said.
Tori suspected that was a damn dirty lie.
“You’re picking up a brush again today.” Keith’s footsteps came down the hall along with his voice. “No chance in hell I’m gonna miss this.”
A moment later, Keith’s hand was on her shoulder before he threw his arms around her and they hugged, shrieking like two teenagers.
Tori pulled back, her brow tightening. “You came here for the clubs, didn’t you?” Tori sighed. “You know I’m not into the club scene anymore.”
“After a four-hour flight from DC at an ungodly hour, and a drive to San Antonio, I think you owe me at least one club.” Keith giggled. “I have a very specific one in mind.”
“I’m telling you, Keith, they don’t have a gay, biker bar here.” Scott said with conviction.
Tori laughed and fell into Keith’s embrace again. God, it felt so good to have a bit of home here. Now she wouldn’t be quite as nervous.
“Stop acting like teenage girls,” Blaze’s teasing voice swooped past them.
“Says the man who has shiny, golden hair that would make any teenage girl jealous,” Keith shot back. “Do one last little twirl for me, Thor.”
Tori listened as Blaze shuffled and snapped. Keith yelped and jolted next to her followed by a smack. Tori could only assume that Blaze had just slapped him on the ass.
“Nice meeting you, Ginger.” Blaze chuckled as the bathroom door shut.
“If you told me you had gorgeous, half-naked men running around this house I would’ve come sooner.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “Where did you dig that gem up?”
Scott laughed, shouting loud enough for Blaze to hear. “Afghanistan—two thousand seven. Sometimes I think I should’ve left his ass in the sand.”
“Oh my god, this thing is huge. I feel like I’m driving a semitruck,” Keith said as he merged Wayne’s F150 back out onto the highway. “That gas station was insane. It was the size of Target.”
“Yeah; Buc-ee’s is like a whole thing here, I guess.” Tori waved her hand. “Ya know, everything is bigger in Texas.”
Keith chuckled. “I hope that saying is true in the clubs as well.” Keith steadied his wrists on the wheel as he unwrapped some of the salt water taffy he’d purchased. He popped it in his mouth and smacked his jaw.
“Hey; you better share.” Tori held her palm out. “Gimmie.”
He plopped one in her hand.
“So…” Keith began. “How’s the week been?”
She frowned, popped the candy in her mouth, and chewed for some time, saying nothing.
“That good, huh?”
She swallowed. “Do you think that Scott and I are moving too fast?”
Keith snorted. What a ridiculous statement. “Yeah. Ten years of dating. Way too fast there, Vic.”
She slugged him in the shoulder. “Seriously. I mean we went from casual sex to practically married. There’s been no…in between. You know I had no idea he didn’t eat kiwi?”
“Kiwi? You’re basing this all on fruit?”
“Did you know he was serious with someone else? We ran into this girl…” she rambled on.
Keith’s heart rapped heavily against his chest. Scott had told him the same story on the drive from the airport that morning:
“We ran into an ex of mine,” he’d said. “Do you remember years ago when I ran into you with that blonde on my arm at the Smithsonian?”
Keith had swallowed the lump in his throat. “Kinda,” he’d lied through his teeth to Scott.
He absolutely remembered Brandi. Very well.
“Well, it was her, Brandi. Her and I were…well she’s honestly the only one I was ever serious about other than Tori.” Scott had chuckled. “I was actually considering marrying her.”
Scott had continued to fill him in about how Tori had been acting like a crazy person the entire week. “I’m glad you’re here. She needs you,” he’d said to Keith. “I don’t want her to deal with today alone. It’s gonna be emotional for her and I can’t be there. I have to stay focused on training the officers. She went to a sculpting class with my mom yesterday and she struggled pretty bad. Painting is gonna be even harder. Watch out for her today.”
Keith tuned back into Tori’s version.
“Keith this isn’t me. I don’t do jealous.”
“Because you’ve never actually been in a relationship. You were the queen of one-night stands.”
He rolled his eyes. He felt like a damn therapist caught in the middle of the two of them.
“Still, what is it about this girl that has me worried? Why do I feel this nagging in the back of my mind that there’s more here than I’m realizing?”
Keith sucked in a breath. Yes; there was more. Much more.
Guilt washed over him.
Yes. Keith had met Brandi ages ago. But it wasn’t the day that Scott showed up with her hooked to his arm at the Smithsonian that was his most vivid memory of the girl.
It was the night Brandi met Vicky as well.
He could still see the two of them standing there. Vic’s arm hooked with Brandi’s at her exhibition.
“Keith, this is Lynne.” Vic had leaned in and whispered to him. “I found her in the bathroom puking up champagne.”
Keith’s lips had gone into a tight line. He’d immediately recognized the girl who’d been hooked on Scott’s arm the day before. Scott had been nowhere in sight that night and Lynne, aka Brandi, had looked like she wanted to crawl under the floor.
“Ah, sounds like kismet. She’s just like you: blonde, beautiful, and seems to love the same things you do far too much.”
“Keith!” Vic shouted, snapping him from his thoughts. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Yeah, totally.” He cleared his throat.
I really should tell Vic.
There had to be a statute of limitations on secrets, right? Keith was fearful. This would make things worse, especially since Brandi pretended to not know her the other day. Obviously, Brandi didn’t want it known. Vic would be pissed as hell. Scott wouldn’t be pleased either.
Some secrets were better left untold.
Keith hadn’t said anything in at least an hour, opting to stay weirdly quiet for the rest of the ride. What was that about? After a two-hour car ride, they finally arrived at Dakota Chee’s studio. Maybe it was her nerves, the motion sickness, or a combination of both. Either way, she was about to hurl.
From her research, she’d gathered that Dakota grew up somewhere in New Mexico and had Native American roots. He’d moved to San Antonio for work when he was in his early twenties. His vision had declined when he was fifteen from a rare genetic condition and he’d lost it almost completely by the time he was twenty-five.
For the past ten years he’d been painting, teaching his technique, and selling his work. It was phenomenal.
“You’ll be fine.” Keith squeezed her leg.
“I look that nervous, huh?” Tori chuckled wryly.
“You have a tell. You fiddle with those rings on your fingers and tug at your lip—which I’ve told you not to do a thousand times.” Keith pulled her hand down.
Tori had the feeling that Keith had grown weary of her incessant griping and zoned her out during the trip. But here he was, there for her, like always.
In truth, she was even annoying herself with how she’d been lately. The confidence she showed to the world was slipping. Truth was, inside she was like a terrified child trying to make her way through thick, black smoke.
She forced a grin. “Yeah, it’ll be great.”
Taking a breath, she stepped out of the truck and unfolded her cane. Keith came over and they walked arm and arm up to the house.
“The house is quite charming with its wrap-around porch. It’s quaint—like an old farmhouse. There are bikes in the yard so I’m assuming they have children? Oh, God, don’t tell me that kids will be climbing all over us.”
“Yes, they have two children.” Dakota’s wife was named Bianca and they had two kids. That was the extent of her knowledge. Tori chuckled. “What are you going to do when Scott and I…” Tori’s laughter faded as her voice cracked.
“I’ll adore your kids.” Keith lovingly squeezed her arm as if to assure her it would happen.
As the kids squealed, their laughter echoed through the yard and a longing washed over her for that same sound in her own yard.
What if it doesn’t happen?
“The kids are running through the sprinklers. An older girl and a little boy.” She could hear the smile in his tone. “Ok, admittedly, that’s pretty darn cute. Uh oh, they caught me looking. One is headed this way.”
“Are you here to learn to paint from my daddy?” The little girls sing-song voice chimed, her feet sloshing through the grass as she ran toward them.
She imagined a beautiful little girl—half Native American, half Hispanic—dripping wet from the sprinkler. Funny how now everyone in her mind was painted beautiful when she could no longer see them—only the inner beauty shone through. It was the one gift she’d been given after having the world filtered through senses other than sight.
“I sure am.” Tori grinned.
“He’s teaching me to paint too. Sometimes I wear a blindfold so I can learn to paint like Daddy.” The little girl’s wet feet pattered back and forth on the pavement as she moved, unable to stand still. “I like your cane. Teal is my favorite color,” she said. “My daddy doesn’t use a cane much anymore. His handle is boring black. He has a guide dog named Koko. She’s a golden lab. Do you want to get a dog?”
Tori’s grin grew wide listening to the little girl’s incessant chatter. She was positively precious and part of Tori wanted to scoop her up, not giving a damn if the girl got her all wet. “I’d like to get a dog, maybe someday,” Tori replied. “I’m Tori, and you are?” She shifted her cane to her left hand and held out her right.
“Isabel. I’m ten.” A tiny, wet hand slipped into hers and shook heartily.
“Pleasure to meet you, Isabel.” Tori grinned. “This is my friend, Keith.” She nodded her head toward her left.
“I like your red hair, Keith.”
“Thank you. I love your long braid,” he replied.
“Mamma did it so my hair won’t get knotted because it’s so long. That’s my brother over there, Isaac. He’s five.”
Tori could hear the young boy squealing in the background.
“I love dogs. I especially love my daddy’s dog, Koko. People don’t think she’s a real dog because she works. But she plays fetch with me all the time when she’s not working. Just like any other regular old dog.”
Tori could tell the girl was still bouncing about by the way her voice kept changing directions. She absolutely adored this kid right off the bat. She had so much spunk.
“I want to get my own dog someday, Daddy says that I can—”
“Mija!” A female voice shouted. She muttered something else in Spanish, scolding the child as her voice grew nearer. “Don’t you dare get our guests wet!”
“Sorry, Mamma,” the little girl’s voice dipped down an octave.
“I’m so sorry!” Bianca apologized. “Isabel is supposed to leave Daddy’s students alone.” Bianca had much more of a southern drawl than Tori expected considering all the fluent Spanish that just came out of her.
“No apology necessary,” Tori said. “Isabel was telling us how she loves to play fetch with Koko.”
“I was telling Tori that someday Daddy says that I can get my own guide dog, like Koko—when I need it.” Isabel said this so matter-of-factly, as if it was no big deal that she would in fact, someday, need a guide dog.
No, no, no. Not this sweet, little thing.
Tori felt the color drain from her face, recalling that Dakota’s blindness was genetic. She silently thanked God hers wasn’t.
“Yes, someday. Now go play, Isabel,” Bianca said to her daughter, and the girl pattered away. “You must be Victoria?”
Tori plastered her largest fake grin on her face, trying to ignore the brick that had just settled in her stomach.
“Yes, please call me Tori.” She extended her hand and Bianca gave it a good shake. “This is my friend and work colleague, Keith.”
“Your daughter is lovely,” Keith remarked. His voice wavered, probably from the bomb just dropped on them.
“She’s a handful.” Bianca laughed. “Come on, let me take you to Dakota.”
Her footsteps stayed in front of them as they walked about a hundred more feet until she heard the creaking of door hinges. Loud, angry rock music echoed off the walls. Tori recognized the Korn song immediately. It transported her back to her high school days.
Tori laughed internally. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Korn was certainly not on the list.
The music shut off.
“Tori is here, along with her friend, Keith,” Bianca said to her husband.
“Kickass.” Dakota’s hands clapped together, and his stool scraped across the concrete floor. Footsteps came over in her direction.
“Tori! I’m so glad to have you!” His tone was friendly and informal—just like on the phone.
“Glad to be here.” Tori’s voice wavered.
Damn nerves.
“Awesome. I have a lot I want to cover with you in a short amount of time, so what do you say we dig right in?”
“Sure, that would be great.”
“Hey, don’t be nervous,” Dakota said, noticing the hesitation in her tone. “You’re already ahead of the game coming in here. Usually the people I instruct have zero experience with any painting at all. I think that you will pick it up fast; hell you probably don’t need me.”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell her,” Keith chimed. “Just like riding a bike, you have to get right back on it.”
“I can’t ride a damn bike,” Tori mumbled.
Worst analogy ever.
Dakota let out a hearty laugh. “You’re going to be fine.”
“I can hear your stomach growling.” Keith snickered to Tori as she dipped what she hoped was light grey onto the brush. Focused on her work, she ignored him.
Titanium white was thick, black was very thin. What she’d mixed felt not as thick as the white, just slightly less, to hopefully create a very light grey. She reached out and felt for the line on the canvas that was supposed to be a cheek. She wanted the background grey, so since she was right-handed she had to crisscross her hands. Her left hand trailed the line while her right hand crossed over, coloring the canvas. It was slow, tedious, and very messy. She envisioned the background a dark blood red, but she wasn’t ready to try color yet. That would require formulas and trial and error. For now, this would have to do.
“We probably should take a break for lunch,” Dakota said, “we’ve been at this a while.” The music shut off mid chorus.
“Oh, I was just getting on a roll,” Tori whined.
“All the cursing you’ve been doing proves otherwise,” Keith mumbled, which caused Dakota to erupt in laughter.
“You know how you get, Vic. You will work and work until it’s done, never stopping to eat or drink until you wear yourself out and make stupid mistakes,” Keith lovingly scolded.
He had a point. Tori tuned the rest of the world out when she got started on something. She’d work her fingers to the bone until it was finished.
“Fine,” Tori relented. She reached over to her right, felt for the towel, wiped her hands, picked up her cane, and tried to find the sink.
“Yikes. It’s bright,” Keith said. He’d removed his blindfold, she assumed.
That was one of Dakota’s rules in his studio. Everyone painted with a blindfold. Apparently, it was a huge draw to his group classes for people to experience. Kinda like the whole dining in the dark rage.
Must be nice.
She clenched her jaw as bitterness reared its ugly head. She could feel it churning, threatening to explode.
“Sink is a little to your left, Vic,” Keith hollered at her. She washed her hands and walked back over to him.
“Well?” Tori asked. “How does it look?”
“It’s getting there,” Keith remarked. Flat tone, shuffle, that tic in the back of his throat. Yeah, she could tell from his body language it wasn’t great.
“You’ll get there, Tori. It’s just going to take time,” Dakota encouraged her. “It took me years to perfect my technique.”
Years…
Tori had already spent years perfecting her technique, and now that was all lost.
“Let’s just go to lunch.” Tori wanted to throw in the towel. Not to mention, her head was pounding from all the stress.
Why did everything that was beautiful in her life always get stripped away? What if she lost Scott too? Her throat clogged with the mere thought of that, and suddenly she needed some air.
“You need to stop picking at your food and eat,” Keith said to her as they sat outside on the patio of the café, burgers in hand. “You didn’t talk the entire car ride here. You’re sulking, dear.” He squeezed her arm. “You just painted, Vic. That’s huge.”
Tori didn’t quite know how to respond to that. Yes, she’d finally painted, but it was still leaps and bounds away from what she was creating in the past. It was going to take her a long time and lots of practice to get to where she wanted to be, and even then—if she was lucky—she may still be a fraction as good as she used to be.
“It was just…frustrating.”
That was the problem. Everything was ten times as frustrating as it was before. Sure, thanks to six months of grueling training she was once again a functioning member of society. Yes, she could do pretty much everything she used to, but it took twice as long and was three times as hard.
“Is this because I didn’t ooh and aah over your painting? God, you’ve always been like this.” Keith snorted. “Do you remember what you were like when you first started out? What did I tell you then?”
“That I had talent, but I was missing the soul.” Tori took a bite of her burger and shoved a fry into her mouth. But she couldn’t bring herself to eat anything else. Finally, she pushed the plate away.
“Yes, that’s exactly what this is. It’s missing the soul, Vic. Your heart isn’t in it,” Keith said flatly. “I’m never going to lie to you or sugar coat your work. You know me; that’s not my style. I will not go easy on you just because you’re blind. I think you’re far too in your head over this. It’s going to take time and patience.”
She was damn out of both of those. She downed the last bit of her beer and slammed the glass on the table as the server came out and Keith paid the tab.
“Hell, even I painted with the blindfold on and it wasn’t so terrible.” Keith chuckled. “It was a fun challenge.”
A fun challenge? Is that what he thought being blind was? Fuck him.
Tori’s blood boiled. He didn’t get it. Well, he was about to.
“You ready?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good; let’s go.” Tori shook the napkin off her lap and tucked it into her purse, hoping no one saw her swiping it. She reached into her wallet feeling for the horizontal folded bill and tossed the extra ten dollars onto the table as payment for the theft.
Keith tapped her on the back of her hand and she took his arm.
“Go right.” Tori tugged him in the opposite direction.
“Vic, that’s not the way to the car…”
“I know. I want to go this way.” She continued walking, scraping her cane across the sidewalk, until she heard the traffic by the busy intersection ahead. She stopped, turned to Keith, and grabbed his hand, placing it on the handle of her cane. She dug into her purse and pulled out the napkin she’d swiped. “You want to know what it’s like in my head, well, this is your chance.”
“What the fuck is this?” Keith asked. “Vic, did you steal that from the restaurant?” He hissed in a low whisper.
“I left a good tip.” Tori waved her hand. “Put it on,” she ordered. “Consider it a fun challenge,” Tori spewed venomously.
“Jesus, I didn’t mean it like that,” he groaned. “You’ve lost your ever-loving mind. I’m not doing this.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not. You can’t make me.”
“You do this for me and I’ll tell you one thing about Amsterdam.” Tori flashed him a wolfish grin.
Keith let out a loud cackle. “Oohh, you play dirty.” He sighed and she knew he had that look on his face, where his lip would curl and his blue eyes would narrow as he tried to decide if he wanted to go along with one of her crazy schemes. “Fine, you crazy bitch.” He yanked the napkin from her grasp. “This story better be worth it.”
“It will be. I promise.”
“Fine. Done,” Keith grumbled.
Tori reached over, grabbed his cheeks, and felt for the blindfold. He snorted and swiped at her hands like he was batting at a fly. “We’re gonna look like we’re pulling some fucking Johnny Knoxville stunt walking around like this.”
“I don’t give a shit what people think. Blindness has a way of making you throw your vanity out the window.” She frowned. “Now give me your elbow.” She tugged on his left hand and felt the cane in it.
“Honey, did you forget that I’m a lefty?” Keith snorted.
“Shit, yes,” Tori maneuvered to his right side. “Now hold it right at your waist, like it’s an extension of your pointer finger feeling the sidewalk.” Tori positioned his finger just right. “It’s all in the wrist, back and forth, when you swing right, step left, and vice versa.” Tori sucked in a nervous breath, praying that she wouldn’t kill them both. “I’m not going to be your guide, you’re leading us with the cane. I’m depending on you.” Tori put her hand on his right shoulder just like one of her O&M instructors, who was also blind, had done.
“No pressure at all.”
“Go,” Tori commanded him, and off they went. For about the first twenty steps he did good, then Tori sensed that he was veering to the left. When the cane stopped scraping and dipped over the curb it confirmed she was correct. Keith realized this and halted.
“Shit.”
“It’s ok, you can use that curb to keep you straight, just take the tip to the edge. Keep going.”
Keith’s steps were slow and calculated. He had to think about every single movement, his entire body tense. There wasn’t a damn person in the world he’d do this for except Vicky. His arm dipped down, he assumed at the curb, and skipped across the tactile pattern in the pavement.
“Ok, we done now?” Keith asked, praying they were. He’d never been so uncomfortable in his life. He was such a fucking idiot for flapping his damn jaw.
“Just gotta cross the street,” she said.
“Vicky, there’s no fucking way. I’ll kill us both.” Keith’s voice shook as his ears took in the torrent of cars whizzing past them. This was it. This was his penance for keeping secrets from his best friend. He was gonna wind up dead today.
“I won’t let you. I promise this is the most terrifying thing you’ll ever do in your life.”
“Gee, way to boost my confidence.” The crosswalk beeped and it said walk, walk, walk, again and again. He started to move, but she yanked him back.
“We don’t trust that,” Vicky said as a car flew by them, running the red light.
“Jesus Christ.” His shirt was sticking to his back, he was so sweaty by now. “I think I just pissed my pants.”
“And that’s why. Listen. Hear that surge to our left? All the other cars are going, so now it’s safe. But wait for the next change. We’ve wasted too much time. Use the change in texture of the paint of the sidewalk to keep you going straight.”
“Ok.” Keith sucked in a breath and nodded.
They waited for the light to change a whole other round. He waited for the surge then Vicky’s nudge, and off they went.
Holy fuckin shit; he was crossing the street and couldn’t see a damn thing. The blood was pumping in his ears so loud he was certain his face was as red as his hair. Finally, somehow, by the grace of God, they made it to the other side. Keith bent over, clutching his chest.
“Terrifying?” Vic laughed like a madwoman.
“Mixed with exhilarating. Holy shit, that was a rush. Better than ecstasy,” Keith teased.
“Hell, I wouldn’t go that far,” Vic shot back.
They repeated the process, going back across the street, and headed for the car.
“We’re at the lot,” she said.
“How do you know?”
“Take a whiff.” Now that she mentioned it, he could smell the food from the nearby restaurant.
“My brain can’t ever stop. I always have to be thinking twenty steps ahead of me, and twenty steps behind. It’s exhausting.” Vic let out a long sigh. “Do you have your camera in your bag?”
“Of course. Do you think I’d leave it in the car for someone to break in and steal?” Keith huffed.
“Now, pull it out and try and take a photo.”
“Vic, I can’t control the settings without—”
“Exactly. Imagine not only having to re-learn every damn thing that you do in life, but also the thing you love the most. How would you set the f-stop when you can’t even see what the light is like outside? How would you frame your subject?” Vic’s voice cracked, and he could hear the tears begin to flow.
Keith pulled off the makeshift blindfold and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. She was the strongest damn person that he knew, which is why it was so much harder to bear when she broke.
“I’m so fucking angry. The one thing that I was good at was stripped away from me.” She sobbed into his chest. “I just want my art back. Even if I can’t see it, I need to feel it in my soul, and I’m so exhausted from having to think so much, I can’t even do that.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry I called it a fun challenge. I didn’t—”
She shook her head and pulled back. “You only said that because I’ve said that a hundred times in the past several months trying to remain positive. It’s my damn suit of armor. I’ve fooled everyone. It’s all smoke and mirrors. Reality is, I’m still really pissed.”
“Then use that. Stop aiming for perfection. Use that anger as fuel, and pour it all out onto that canvas.” Keith grabbed her cheeks and wiped her tears while she nodded.
“I’ll try.”
“Do or do not, there is no try.” Keith chuckled.
“Ok, Master Yoda.” Tori snickered.
Keith handed her cane back and looped his arm with hers. “Now, about Amsterdam. I want to know how you got that scar on your bicep.”
Tori sucked in a breath. “Well, it all started with a pimp and three hookers in a bar…”
Keith cut her off, laughing like a hyena. “I love how most of your crazy stories sound like the beginning of a dirty joke.”
“Are you gonna let me tell it or not?”
“A pimp and three hookers, and go.”