"You live, you learn."
"Is that aJagged Little Pillreference?
"It is now."
"That's a record. Three songs, one conversation. Who needs a therapist when I've got you."
"Me? I'm just a sex-worker."
"Precisely. There's no one more qualified for psychoanalysis… except maybe a bartender."
Demarco quietened, sensing where the conversation was headed.
"Have you seen him?" Alec asked.
"No. He never called about his stuff. I say good riddance."
"He sent me an e-mail."
"What did it say?"
"I miss you."
"That's all?"
"Yeah."
"Alec—"
"Look, I'm not looking to rekindle just… maybe some closure."
"Do you still have feelings for him?"
"I don't think so. No."
"Don't let him drag you down again, Alec."
"I won't."
"Sometimes you have to kiss your past goodbye."
"Peggy Lee?"
"Aerosmith."
"Wow.That,I wasn't expecting."
"I mean it," said Demarco.
"Yes, mother."
"So… you're writing a romance novel about your adventures in the wilderness with a well-hung
cowboy."
"My concept, your words."
"Make it juicy, Alec. Sex sells."
