“What’s going on?” Maxynn asked, sleepily. Holden kissed her forehead and said, “I was going to let you sleep till it was time to go. Im just ...acking our stuff up so we can head out soon.” She got up and finished helping him clean up. He gave her a kiss and told her, “I’m going to go pay for the room, you stay here. I’ll be right back.” And with that, he left with some money. Maxynn waited for what seemed like a long time. Then, she heard someone banging on the door. “Maxynn Jones, we know. ‘You’re perfect, don’t forget it.’ I whispered. ‘You’re a silly boy. I’m okay – I’ll live.’ ‘But, still. To me you’re perfect. Ignore anyone who would dare think otherwise. You’ve more beauty and brains than any of those trophy wives.’ The night before she had been fractious, tense in the cab on the way home from a dinner the agency had thrown for our biggest clients. The perfumed, plastic-surgeried wife of one of our biggest advertisers had casually mentioned that she should put her mind to. More

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