But first, he would leave the house, and go have a solid breakfast at the diner.
Roger propped his head in his hands, not bothering to look at the menu.
He was sitting uncharacteristically at the counter, rather than a table where he would be attended to in the pornostars obsession manor he had become accustomed.
Instead, there was a familiar sensation going through his body, prompting him to form pornostars obsession some kind of organization pornostars obsession around pornostars obsession his domestic problem, and a source of ideas pornostars obsession to sort through and choose what made the most sense as a solution.
“Coffee?” The older woman in the white apron asked, standing behind the counter with a Pyrex pot in her hand pornostars obsession, cocked and ready to pour.
“Huh? Oh, yes. Thanks.” Roger answered from pornostars obsession a different place.
The waitress poured a full cup for him and smiled at the familiar look.
Here was a man with a problem, and no idea how to solve it, she pornostars obsession thought.
“Trouble?” She turned and put the pot back on the burner and turned as if to collect an order from the guy.
Roger answered without thinking, “What? Yes. A problem. Four of them actually, but one of them is mine.” He picked up the cup and sipped the hot, black brew.
“Four of them? That IS a problem,” The waitress said, leaning a hip against the counter as if settling in for the long haul.
The waitress kept on talking, but Roger had heard what he needed to hear.
“Take ‘em on one at a time pornostars obsession.” The jolt of lightening through his body nearly caused him to jump from his seat.
“That’s it pornostars obsession!” He shouted in his mind.
“Take them on, one at a time!” He looked up at the waitress and said, “Thank you! You are brilliant!” He was so excited he ordered a hearty breakfast and tipped the waitress the entire amount of the bill pornostars obsession.
When she realized what he’d done, she pornostars obsession clicked her tongue against her teeth and stuffed the extra cash in her apron pocket with a smile.
Roger had used his PDA to check his online banking account to find out where his wife, had sent the gardener his check each month.
The kid probably pornostars obsession used his home as his office, Roger presumed, and he needed to pornostars obsession find the son-of-a-bitch.
His pornostars obsession only concern now, as he walked up the outside stairway to the row pornostars obsession of apartments on the second floor, was whether the young entrepreneur had already pornostars obsession left for his busy Saturday jobs.
“Can I help you?” The voice was young and sweet, a girl pornostars obsession probably half his age.
Could this be the gardener’s wife?
He was right, for she shouted back into the house, “Jerry? Someone here to see you.” The woman was smart enough to not yet let the stranger in, and wise enough to not show her agitation to her husband for pornostars obsession telling his clients where he lived.
