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‘Good morning, Ruby.’ She looked down as she handed me the tray and didn’t look up. ‘Good morning, sir.’ ‘How are you today?’ ‘Fine. Will there be anything else?’ Her eyes were still downcast. ‘Yes, I saw Connie run in from the barn and then Mrs. Edwards run out with him. Is something wrong?’ The question caught her by surprised and she looked up for a moment in wonder before looking down again. ‘Max cut his finger badly and it needed bandaging.’ ‘I see. Thank you, Ruby.’ ‘Yes, sir. You’re welcome, sir.’ She gave a little curtsey before she left which was utterly charming. I got out my writing supplies in the workroom and arranged my space after taking my snack. It was a beautiful room, well lit by a skylight, and held a large writing desk with plenty of space and devices to hold a manuscript in place. The view was stunning with a bay window. A bookcase held a large number of books on musical matters, and on inspection it would have compared favorably to the music library at the. “I’m guessing you want to screw his brains out and he isn’t paying any attention,” I remarked. “It’s not just that,” Heather responded, “We are on separate planets. All I want is some attention and all he wants to do is play golf, watch television, or play on the kids’ X-box. I went to Victoria’s Secret, bought the most sexy outfit in the store, put it on and he didn’t even notice.” The mere thought of Heather in some type of sexy Victoria’s Secret outfit was almost unbearable. Heather stood up and put her hands out, palms upwards and spun around. “I work out to keep in shape and he doesn’t even seem to care or notice,” Heather remarked in obvious frustration. “What guy wouldn’t want a piece of this?” My manly senses tickled, and I struggled to fend off bad thoughts. This is my golfing buddy’s wife. “I hope that is a rhetorical question,” I responded. “Maybe, maybe not,” Heather responded. I took a deep breath and exhaled. Before I could respond, Heather, obviously very flustered,.
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