Jack’s wife sucked on a Coke. "96˚ and no shade." Jenna’s yellow tank top clung to her nipples. "Cleaned five pools." "And lost your bra." "Bra?" She looked down. "Oh," she laughed. "Who was pool number five?" "Old Man Milton." "Four?" "Nate and Sara. A couple brokers." "Three?" "A new client. Night manager at the Cineplex. I’ll think he’ll be a regular." Jack clenched his fist but said nothing.
by
Paul Lewellan of Bettendorf