No Contest Book 2 Hard Fought 1991 93Chapter 28
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No Contest Book 2: Hard Fought 1991-93Chapter 34 free porn video
Joe had never experienced such success. Best sellers. Well received productions. Nothing compared to the dual phenomena of hers and Rhonda. It didn’t surprise Joe that hers caused controversy. But the controversy, as well as the near across the board praise it received from reviewers and fans, made it a blockbuster. Far eclipsing everything else on the best seller list. And it generated more sales of his older books. And the book signings ended up being events in themselves. Even the ones for his poems and play at smaller independent stores. His lesbian friends in Milwaukee had to work day and night to supply the unique and harder to print books. Just to supply the stores where he signed them with enough. Other places sold them well, especially for their genres, never hot sellers, but his signings required quite a bit more.
Every place that Rhonda and MIRE played sold out within a couple days. It wasn’t unusual for them to play a second night and even a third. Not at vast concert halls, but at large theaters often used for touring Broadway shows or for second tier rockers. Ones who didn’t expect to sell out giant auditoriums or stadiums, but had enough of a fan base to need greater space than a bar or club. Even if it looked like Rhonda could get the audience for larger arenas, everyone agreed it would be far better for her and MIRE to remain in places with at least some semblance of intimacy.
The added shows caused changes in Joe’s schedule. He would do his signings of hers the evening before MIRE performed, always at a local Barnes and Noble. But Joanne had scheduled the independent stores for the poetry and play for the following evening. She either rescheduled the evening to deal with the extra day or two of concerts, or had the reading done earlier in the day. Usually the latter, because they needed to head out of town to the next stop soon after their shows finished.
The tour began on the East Coast. Places the participants could drive to easily. Those farther away, Rachel rented a bus and Belle drove it. Eddie always went by limo, driven by Trevor. Eddie up front and Rachel in the back often with Rhonda and Nathan. Joe too on the way there as a chance to do some teaching. But when Shawna could accompany them, Eddie sat in the back with her.
Nathan’s continued presence in the band surprised many, especially Eddie. Eddie didn’t use him for the entire show. His portion he hired a far more professional and older fellow, a veteran of several punk bands in the New York area. But when Rhonda played, the MIRE version of the Solomon Family Band, which meant a kid with a small drum kit, took over. Encores though had both drummers playing, little Nathan hitting harder than ever and loving every minute of it.
By the time the tour went west, everyone had finished school. Charlie. Essie. Chanda. Victoria. Joe’s kids. Joanne quit her job. Everyone headed to LA except Moe and Liang and Chanda. A couple weekends during the tour, all three would join the entourage just as they had during the musical in Minneapolis.
Speaking of the musical, a producer and a director who had created popular musicals on London’s West End and on Broadway began negotiations to turn the Myth of Innocence into a West End/Broadway show. Joe, Joanne and Cheryl attended. Joe happened to admire the woman director, who managed to put together expensive productions with lots of special effects without losing a show’s heart. He’d had experience with visionary directors, Jonny only being the most recent. Though before Jonny it had been several years, the man who put together Girl Fan being the last. Before him had been the director at the Public who had Joe thoroughly revise his play. In fact the very play Joe signed at the independent bookstores. Both those shows, the directors collaborated with Joe closely. The early directors of Joe’s Morpheus shows had been completely at Joe’s command, his extension. But Jonny had been a lot less respectful of Joe’s writing than he had ever experienced. And Gayle Thorson was several degrees worse.
“What!” both Joanne and Cheryl exclaimed when Gayle finished her presentation of what she envisioned her version would be, with all the changes, and Joe agreed with her.
After Joe laughed, he explained. “I know what it’s like wearing three hats. Producer. Writer. Director. The producer is obviously the money guy. Giving the director what she needs. Maybe limiting her. Giving her the times and the places. Supporting her as much as he feasibly can. Making sure when it’s all together that as many people as possible know about it. Hopefully targeting the most likely audience, although Broadway’s a lot more open ended. A tourist from Sheboygan or Oshkosh just needs to know it’s a hit.
“And the writer has provided the base. The essential ideas. The words being spoken. The songs being sung. The shape of the play. The scenes. The theme. The plot. Who and what the characters are.
“But, in the end, it’s up to the director to make sure everything works. She has to know everything about it, and especially what’s being expressed and how best to express it. And that’s her vision. To give meaning to the playwright’s words. To make it physical for everyone to see. To get the best cast, and make sure they’re even better when they present their words, no longer the playwright’s, but the actors and the director shaping them. Guiding them as gently as possible so as not to step on their egos to express her intent. Not the playwright’s. Hers.
“Like I said, I’ve worn all three hats. At the same time for the same show. Which is great for the playwright hat. His vision when he wrote the thing is immediately available for the director, because that’s him too. But I’ve found problems. Mostly with perspective. Not being able to see what just doesn’t work. Still enamored with my words. Still stuck in a vision that maybe I can’t even see isn’t being communicated.
“And it’s worse when I’ve had to have someone else direct. Because I still wear the producer hat and the writer hat, I basically bully away any vision they had, and just have them herd people around according to mine. They either hate me or are completely submissive. And even then, I’m sure I just didn’t get their passive aggressiveness.”
“Can I just say something Joe?” Cheryl asked.
“Sure.”
“I get where you’re going with this. But I love your plays. Every one of them.”
“Me too,” said Joanne.
“I’m rather fond of them too, with more than a little cringes. I’m just saying how much better they would have been if I let them go more, and given someone else at least some perspective. I’m pretty sure my first play to be performed in New York just might be my best, because it actually had that. Filtered through two different directors I admired and respected. I definitely get the least cringes from it. I didn’t completely let go. The play performed at the Public, every word of it was mine.
“And need I remind you that that was the only play, except for Girl Fan, that ever played anywhere beyond Morpheus. No revivals. No other productions. No high school, college, amateur or professional theater ever did them.”
“Not that there weren’t requests,” said Joanne.
“Really?” Joe asked.
“At least one for every play. Usually several. But you never published them. You didn’t seem to want anyone else to have them.”
“Did I say that?”
“You did. And you never had any official script.”
“Hunh. Maybe it was because of Constance and her dances and me tying my plays to her not wanting the choreography used.”
“Or maybe because it was your little secret,” Cheryl suggested. “The whole Sol Loman thing.”
“Yeah. I did want that separation.”
“Why?” asked Gayle.
“He thought being identified as a playwright would damage his chance of becoming a novelist,” Joanne shrugged.
“I thought it would bias publishers against me,” Joe added.
“Do you still think that?” Gayle asked.
“There was a lot of competition for his first novel,” Cheryl said. “He wasn’t known, obviously. Just this remarkable novel.”
“Maybe I just felt there needed to be these divisions,” Joe offered. “Playwright. Poet. Novelist. There really are different me’s writing. But I really did believe I needed to keep things separate. My esoteric writing with my much more public prose.”
“And I think his plays... , “ Cheryl began, pausing to put words together. “They are like complete visions. Moments on stage. Ethereal. Ephemeral. Just for us lucky few to see. And once done, they’re done.”
“Like gifts for his hometown. Or home area I guess,” Joanne offered.
“I did read that marvelous publication of your play,” Gayle said. “And it did make me a little giddy imagining putting it back on the boards.”
“Joanne made it much easier for someone to imagine it,” Joe said. “She and Liang encouraged me to have my plays and poems published. Maybe it was the whole perspective thing, but I essentially gave them complete control of my work. Which meant, for Joanne, adding business. All she had was what was said on stage and the several notes I made when I directed it. I ... since I directed them, or was a bit bossy with the other directors who directed some of my earlier Morpheus productions, I did make a lot of notes in my copy. She translated them, beautifully I think.”
“She did well to keep them simple and sparse,” Gayle said. “Not inhibiting my imagination.”
“Truth is, I didn’t feel like I could add too much to it,” Joanne admitted. “Like it wasn’t for me to impinge on Joe’s work.”
“You worked from Joe’s director’s script?”
“Yes.”
“It sounds like there were lots of notes.”
“Kind of intimidating,” Joanne admitted. “And I’m not the most confident a writer. Both Liang and Joe encouraged me to trust myself more. And Liang did proof my work, giving me advice, but mostly getting me past my fears I think. From the beginning though, I felt that keeping it minimal would be better. Partly because of my self-consciousness, but mostly because the texts would flow better, and business would get in the way as little as possible. I ended up actually ignoring a lot of Joe’s notes. They were both too specific and too vague. Because they really were notes to himself to communicate to an actor or one of the designers. Shorthand reminders that didn’t need to be explicit. I ended up using the videos for the plays. They helped me get back to the place when I actually saw them live. Probably the most of what I used from his notes were significant emotional directions. Ones Joe felt had to be expressed by his actors to make the play work. That and pauses.”
“I didn’t notice a lot of either of those,” said Gayle.
“Because there wasn’t a lot,” Joanne nodded.
“And the descriptions? The set and characters?”
“Those were in the original script, or at least the last draft before he pulled the tech staff together and began his auditions.”
“A bit of the novelist,” Joe said. “Though not nearly as thorough as I would have described either set or character. It would have held back choices. Both for the designer and for me, when I held the auditions.”
“You know, if someone wanted to produce the play, it’s still problematic,” Gayle said.
“Why’s that?” Cheryl asked.
“Because of the illustrations on the pages. Hard to copy.”
Joanne and Joe looked at each other. But it was Cheryl who responded with a giggle. “You really didn’t think someone might want to produce your plays?”
“I guess we didn’t,” said Joe. “The publishers do such beautiful work, I guess I just saw them as published art.”
“I’ll call them,” Joanne said. “We can add a contact number if someone’s interested.”
“Or maybe a PO in New York,” Cheryl said.
“Good idea,” said Joe.
“I’ll set one up,” Joanne said.
“And I’ll create a contract for permission,” Cheryl added.
“Charging them?” Joe asked.
“It does make it seem more valuable and maybe more professional. We could create a sliding scale, from amateur to professional. And we could just donate the fee. They would expect to have to pay for it, and hopefully have it part of the budget.”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
“I’ll research the usual costs.”
“Speaking of which,” said the producer.
“You have an offer?” Cheryl asked him.
He wrote down a substantial number and showed it to her.
“Rights exclusive to this production?” Cheryl asked him. He nodded. “I’ll need to research the going price. But I can tell you we’ll most likely go higher.”
“It’s generous,” said the producer.
“Perhaps it is. But it would be a purchase rather than borrowing. The play you present won’t entirely be Joe’s with the way Gayle wants to change things. It would become specifically your version of it.”
“And I would expect any writer who adds his or her changes would be credited,” Joe added. “And if you feel a need to add a song, you’ll need Eddie composing it. And he would be compensated.”
“Of course,” said the producer.
“Whatever you end up with will be yours,” said Cheryl. “If the show becomes a success, I imagine you’ll be touring it.”
“I hope so.”
“Your version could very well be the version,” said Joe. “Unless someone wants the original for some reason.”
“Historical reenactment,” Cheryl giggled.
“I get the picture,” the producer murmured. “You’re telling me I will be buying the play. But if it doesn’t find success?”
“It’s a risky business,” Cheryl agreed.
“I think it goes either of two ways,” Joe said. “Gayle takes the play and changes it. Or has whomever she trusts change it. Meaning someone besides me. You purchase the play, however successful it ends up being. Essentially buying the rights. Or I become the only writer. Gayle and I collaborate. It becomes the West End/Broadway version of my play. And, of course, you compensate me for my time, just as you would Eddie and his time.”
“Collaborate,” Gayle said, tasting the word. It was her least professional moment. One might describe her as an English Rose. Dark hair. Longish face. Voluptuous, but not demonstrably. Tall. A regal bearing. Entering her forties hadn’t faded the rose much. Softer and rounder than she may have been ten years before, but no less attractive.
The flash of her eyes surprised Joe. Her initial greeting had revealed far more interest in Cheryl, and to a lesser extent Joanne, than any towards him. But he retreated from his usual sexual analysis of it. Perhaps she just liked him.
“Yes,” said Joe. “Problematic only in how busy I may be with other projects. Your home base is?”
“New York and London. I have dual citizenship because my mother’s American and my father’s British.”
“How lucky!” Cheryl exclaimed.
Joe chuckled. “Cheryl wished she grew up in England.”
“Being around when the Sex Pistols exploded,” Cheryl grinned. “As it was, growing up in Minnesota, I missed out on the whole CBGBs thing.”
“But you were there for the Longhorn,” Joe reminded her.
“True.”
“The Longhorn?” Gayle asked.
“Minneapolis’s CBGBs,” Cheryl explained. “Except a lot less long-lived.”
“I thought First Avenue was the place,” said Gayle.
“It was there,” Cheryl nodded. “Kind of like max’s kansas city.”
“I used to hang out there. At the tail end of when Mickey Ruskin owned it. Me and my fellow theater geeks would parade through there from time to time.”
“Very cool. So you saw Warhol?”
“Partied at the Factory a couple of times.”
“That’s amazing. So you saw the Velvets?”
“Just the Doug Yule version. But it was still pretty great.”
“You have to meet Moe. She’s a huge Moe Tucker fan.”
“Moe?”
“Moira,” said Joe. “My ... wife.”
“I thought Cheryl...”
“Joe has three,” said Cheryl. “I’m the only official one.”
“Okay.” Gayle looked at Joanne.
“Joe and I ... have a different kind of relationship,” Joanne blushed.
“Liang, the woman who edited his poems, is his other wife,” said Cheryl. “Although Jo ... Joanne might as well be.”
“I’m not...” Joanne started.
“Quiet Joanne,” said Joe.
“Yes Joe,” Joanne responded meekly, but with a slight tremble. An exciting shock.
Cheryl giggled. “As Jo said, a different kind of relationship.”
“Hunh,” Gayle murmured, her eyes flashing again at Joe.
Confusing Joe again, but also making him reconsider the sexual content.
“So, yeah,” Gayle swallowed, pulling herself together. “My brothers and I found the dual citizenship lucky. One of them actually lives in Amsterdam, for obvious reasons,” she chuckled. “But my mom not so much. She ended up marrying a cad who treated her terribly. She’s a sweet woman. Lives in Oregon with my step-father, who appreciates her.”
“Good,” Cheryl smiled.
“Do you think collaborating would work?” Gayle asked.
“I do,” Joe responded. “Just the perspective would be great. Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“Unfortunately, right now, I’m busy to say the least. Two tours in one. We’ll be heading to Europe at the end of the summer. After that I should be free. Although Chanda and I hope to spend some time in New Orleans and Hispaniola. Possibly some sailing in the Caribbean. Even a trans-Atlantic crossing.”
“It does sound like you’re busy.”
“The last part’s speculative, and can be adjusted if there’s a project.”
“How busy are you?” Cheryl asked.
“We’re looking for projects,” the producer said.
“I just finished transferring our latest production to Broadway,” Gayle said. “So I’m between projects.”
“When did you become interested in the Myth of Innocence?” Joanne asked.
“I have a friend who has seen every one of Joe’s plays,” Gayle explained.
“Who?” Joe asked.
“Jennifer...”
“Olafson?”
“She said she worked for you once.”
“My first collaboration. She’s an amazing director. And a lot more ruthless than you changing my play.”
“I remember,” Cheryl giggled. “She changed all the sexes around.”
“Yep. Just a one act. I knew she was capable. I was learning. My first time letting go. Maybe I should have embraced the lesson more.”
“She told me,” Gayle said. “I guess that’s why I expected you to be okay letting me change things.”
“Makes sense. I guess I became too protective after that.”
“She agrees with Joanne and Cheryl that it turned out alright. You wearing all three hats.”
“She never seemed to mind seeing them,” Joe said.
“Anyway,” Gayle continued, “She saw Myth and immediately thought of me. I was busy putting the Broadway show together, but managed to come out the next weekend. The weekend after that Hal joined me.”
“And you waited until now to ask us?” Cheryl asked.
“I had just started the transfer to Broadway. And I wanted to be fully prepared. And, to tell you the truth, Hal wanted me to consider other projects. But when Joe’s new book exploded...”
“Strike while the iron is hot,” Joe chuckled.
“It was always my favorite choice, Joe. It just helped tip Hal over to my favor.”
“I completely understand, Hal,” Joe said. “It definitely is replete with controversy.”
Hal nodded. “The post show discussion actually helped.”
“Are you thinking about having them?” Cheryl asked.
“Yes,” both Gayle and Hal responded.
“So you just saw the show twice?” Joanne asked.
“Three times actually,” Gayle said. “That second weekend I took tons of notes for both the Saturday and Sunday shows. And I have a decent memory. I’m especially good at remembering the structure. How each scene builds the arc of the play.”
“We have video of the production,” Joanne offered.
Gayle shook her head. “I’d rather have the script.”
“I could have Moira overnight it,” Joe said.
“Which version?” Joanne asked.
“What Joanne calls the final draft?” Joe asked.
“Were there changes after that?” Gayle responded.
“Some. I’ll have her copy both the final draft and my director’s script. Unless that might corrupt your vision.”
“No. I think it would actually give me insight into yours.”
“For the collaboration.”
“Yes.”
“The director’s script is in a spiral bound notebook,” Joanne reminded Joe.
“True. I’ll ask nice,” Joe said.
“Use the phone here,” Hal offered. They had used his suite in the San Francisco Marriot for the meeting. Joe looked at the time and nodded.
“It looks like we’re moving forward,” said Joanne as Joe called home.
“I’m great at research,” said Cheryl. “And am a legitimate contract lawyer.”
“We’ll need to meet with my lawyers,” Hal said.
“Lawyers,” Cheryl chuckled. “I guess I’ll call Scott. When are you heading back?”
“Tomorrow morning?” Hal replied.
“New York?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll head back with you.”
“I thought Joe...” Gayle started.
“He trusts me,” Cheryl grinned. “I’ll see if my girlfriend wants to join me.”
“Girlfriend?” Gayle asked.
“Yep,” Cheryl winked. “Collaborating can be fun!” She giggled. “She and I are working on a script for one of my true crime books.”
“Hunh,” Gayle said, her eyes flashing at Joanne who responded with a shy grin.
“You can definitely stay here, Gayle,” Cheryl smirked. “You shouldn’t miss Joe’s reading.”
“I saw his reading yesterday,” Gayle pointed out. It’s where she and Hal had finally tracked Joe down. They had a hard time making contact since Joanne was no longer at her home. A call to his publisher brought them to San Francisco.
“You think that was great? Joe reading poetry is sublime. And you two are catching the show tonight?”
“Are there still tickets?”
“No tickets needed back stage.”
“You should go,” said Hal. “I have plans.”
Gayle nodded.
Cheryl couldn’t help thinking about sucking off the middle-aged man. Thin and handsome in his younger days, he had acquired a substantial paunch and lost most of what had been attractive. Cheryl wasn’t bothered by that. She enjoyed the happy surprise and the appreciation and the thrill she could give men. And it would add another new cock to her collection of memories. But it was no longer an automatic thing for her. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to. More indifference than reluctance. She decided to consult Joe.
So she walked over to him and settled onto his lap while he talked with Liang.
“Cheryl’s here,” he offered and handed Cheryl the phone.
“Hi Yanhuo,” Cheryl said.
Liang chuckled. “Hi Firecracker. Horny?”
“Always, but uncertain.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“Just wondering if my old profligate ways have completely gone.”
“Wondering if you’re going to suck off the producer?”
“Of course. It’s like a smoker trying to quit after having a nice meal and finishing it off with a cognac.”
“I suppose it is. What was the main thing that changed?”
“I don’t know if I suddenly got moral or just wanted to be exclusive with those I love.”
“You’ve always been moral.”
“If you say so. It just changed when I realized I was fucking around with married men, even if I would only be sucking this time.”
“Jonny and Maria.”
“Yeah. And Mel and Cal, even if they’re not married yet.”
“If he wasn’t married?”
“I suppose that would be better, but I can’t imagine him not being married.”
“He could be gay.”
“Which would make it less likely for him to want it.”
“It’s a blow job.”
“Easier to forget I’m a girl.”
“Although I can’t imagine anyone forgetting that.”
“Thanks Li. Maybe one last time for old time sake. He seems pretty sweet.”
“It’s never sweet.”
“True,” Cheryl giggled. “I love you and miss you.”
“I love you and miss you too.”
“Tell Moe the same.”
“I will.”
“Had enough talking with Stud Boy?”
“He did mention something about this director.”
Cheryl chuckled. “I think she’s like Constance.”
“A pain slut?”
“Maybe not that extreme,” Cheryl responded quietly. “More like being comfortable more with women. But a strong dominate male makes her pussy swell.”
Liang giggled. “Damn, Firecracker. So ... Joe and Joanne and Gayle.”
“Li.”
“I’m not jealous. Maybe a little worried Joanne won’t...”
“Never happen, Li. She adores you. As much or more than the rest of us. Except Joe. And maybe Essie. You’ll be coming up this weekend?”
“Seattle. Yes.”
“Joe and Jo will keep her captivated until then. And let Moe know the woman actually saw Moe Tucker play with the Velvet Underground.”
“That will impress her?”
Cheryl chuckled. “Such a kid.”
“Sorry.”
“As long as you hold me against you, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Good to know, old lady.”
“Fuck you, little girl.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Me either.”
Cheryl handed the phone off to Joe who sent love to the three ladies in New York and hung up.
Cheryl shifted in Joe’s lap, straddling him. They kissed, reluctantly brief because of their audience. A brief gaze into each other’s eyes, and Joe, seeing her ambivalence leaned into her ear and whispered, “You’ll be with him in New York and maybe in transit.”
“Time for more than a blow job,” she whispered back.
They couldn’t stop themselves from enjoying another brief kiss. Their excitement evident in Joe’s hardness and Cheryl’s heat where their groins met.
Cheryl moved off Joe’s lap and returned to the armchair where she had sat before, nearest Hal, who shared a couch with Gayle. Joanne sat on the other side of Gayle, where the two quietly chatted. Not all that far away, Joe shifted his chair, not getting up and revealing his erection to the presumably mostly lesbian director. Letting it return to a more presentable flaccidness.
“My wives are making copies,” he said. “But it will most likely be too late to have them overnighted here tomorrow. We’ll be headed to Seattle Thursday morning. I could have them sent to the hotel there, where you can collect them if you want to join us, Gayle.”
“Uhm,” she gulped.
“We could talk some more about your ideas,” Joe added. “Or whatever. A chance to get to know each other.”
“When were you two planning to fly back tomorrow?” Cheryl asked.
“Early,” said Hal. “I have plans this evening, like I said. Dinner and drinks with some friends. Otherwise we would have caught a red eye home. I was hoping Gayle would be joining us. Mutual interests and all that.”
“Fellow producers?” Cheryl asked.
“ACT,” Hal nodded. “The board and the creative director. Putting the past season away and discussing the future one. Just coincidence really that I’m here, but was invited to the post meeting dinner.”
“You should go,” Joe said to Gayle. “I need to go early for sound check. I can let whoever guards the backstage entrance to watch out for you.”
“Or we could join them for drinks,” Cheryl offered. “Then bring her to the show in style via limo. MIRE does sound check early, and there’ll be lots of time between that and the show. Some up and coming local band is opening. Where were you planning to meet?” she asked Hal.
“Here actually. The posh restaurant downstairs. The board not living here have rooms here.”
“Us too,” Cheryl grinned. She and Joe’s usual place, staying with Julia, had been taken by Eddie, Rachel, Trevor and Cynthia. Cynthia enjoyed the dom/sub aspects, and became a sort of go between between the same sex goings on, helping Rachel to be more accepting of her long time lover’s homosexual proclivities. Taking away the sexual aspect of their relationship had strained the long time best friends, but things had been gradually thawing since the Cube between Cheryl and Julia, conversations gradually warming, which often included Joe. Joe actually felt a lot more comfortable around Leonard once the sex at been removed from the equation. And both he and Cheryl very much liked Juanita.
“Perhaps I could head back east,” Cheryl continued. “Take Gayle’s seat. You said it was an early flight.”
“Yes,” Hal nodded.
“I can skip the show, and Gayle can enjoy the night without worrying about waking early.”
“I’d like to hear Joe recite his poetry,” Gayle agreed. “His reading last evening was quite delightful. And you say his poetry reading is better?”
“It is,” Cheryl grinned.
“I’ll call my assistant to change the name on the ticket,” Hal said. “And you’re thinking about meeting with my lawyers?”
“Sure. Maybe later tomorrow. Scott’s a busy boy.”
“And Joe trusts you?”
“Completely.”
“I’ll have my assistant arrange it. After five?”
“That would be best. I’ll let Scott know.”
“Isn’t this about when he and his boyfriend take their annual trip?” Joe asked.
“They went to Australia and New Zealand this past winter.”
“Oh. Right.”
“That incredible Shiraz.”
“I remember,” Joe chuckled. “So. Seattle,” Joe addressed Gayle.
“I...”
“I insist,” Joe muttered forcefully.
“Say ‘Yes Joe,’” Joanne prompted, taking Gayle’s hand.
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