There were pieces of plastic turning summersaults in the air above the desk, and some whizzed by my head with the velocity of an automatic machine gun... and a strand of cassette tape seemed to be suspended in mid air, and sparks floated toward the floor as if they were lightning bugs. Before most of the thousands of plastic shards hit the floor, he had turned and started to walk toward the watertight door. He opened the door and kind of half turned and looked at me. I could see then it was my. She clearly was from the restaurant side of the operation, and had that unofficial uniform look going on — black polo with Bad Hoss logo on the breast, black skirt with black apron, dark hose, and black flats. She reminded me superficially of Stacey, except she was more tan and less makeup, and Stacey wouldn’t have been caught dead in a ponytail or cowboy hat. ‘Can I start y’all with drinks or appetizers?’ ‘Set us up with a round of grande margaritas and some sidecars,’ Hunter told her. ‘And. More

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