” Peter hands her the glass he is carrying.Chloe takes it and asks, “What is it?”Peter grins, “Water, it will help against the hangover.”“...hanks, but I didn’t drink that much yesterday.” “So, you’re just not a morning person then?” He asks. Chloe lifts her shoulders. Yeah, probably. She looks around, still trying to figure out what room she is in. There’s an awful lot of pink and a big closet. Only one bed, maybe a guest room?“It’s my wife’s bedroom if that's what you’re wondering." Chloe seems. "I'm not joking, Chelsea!" he screamed. "Give me my fucking clothes!" Fuck you!" she shouted once again.He chased her around the car for two laps while the half-dressed woman in the back seat quietly slipped away and ran toward Bill.Roger stopped on the passenger side of the car, and Chelsea glared at him over the roof."Chelsea, please give me my clothes," Roger said in a calm voice, "and we can talk about this."With one swift move, she opened the door, tossed the clothing inside, and slid. More

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