I think he did. I thank her for giving me the tools that threw Mrs. F's sense of superiority out the window. "Thanks. I studied her. I guessed that he...needed to see her worry. What made you decide to wear a suit?" We go over my guesses as to what gets through to him, including my choice to wear business attire. I tell her that he probably thought we were idiots for allowing the business that we took from him to get run into the ground by his wife. The business suit was to show him that we. " "I can't fuck you right now, Denise," I told her. "You just depleted me. I guess you'll have to wait. I think we should get back to work now, don't you?" "You bastard," she moaned. "You can't...you can't..." "You want me to get one of the guys to come in here and do it for you?" I said. She closed her eyes. "No," she husked. "Filthy bastard. Oh Christ!" "Yeah, I think you'd like that, Denise," I said. "But admittedly it would screw up the working. More

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