“Oh…ummm…yeah, I guess.”
“Are you sure?” Adam asked, as he stared into Tracie’s eyes.
“I might want to give you a call sometime . . .okay?” Tracie meekly muttered.
“I’ll help you in any way I can,” Adam said.
“I could already tell that about you. Don’t say anything to your friend. Okay?”
“Attorney-client privilege,” Adam whispered reassuringly as he pressed his forefinger against his lips.
Leaving the toasty, cookie-cutter home, Adam blurted out, “God, it’s fucking cold out here!” as the bitter November wind pummeled their faces. “What do you want to do?” he asked, pulling his parka as far over his ears as he could.
“Want to hit some bars?” Rob asked unenthusiastically.
Before Adam could answer, a female voice shrieking his name sliced through the dark, winter night.
“God dammit,” Adam muttered, while Rob quickly scrambled to his car, leaving Adam in the middle of the street, waiting to be attacked.
“Here,” Megan panted, barely able to breathe from the cold.
“Did this fall out of my jacket?” he wondered, staring at a piece of paper.
“No, silly, it’s my phone number. Call me sometime,” she smiled while braving the below-zero temperature without a coat.
“Great…sure,” he said, stuffing the number into one of the pockets in his parka. “You should really go inside. You must be freezing.”
“You’re worth it,” Megan called out, skipping back into the house.
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