Take The Long Way Home
Frank knocked on my office door at a quarter to twelve that fateful Monday, pushed it open and poked his head through the opening. “Lunch?” he asked.His tone, trumpeted, that shit was about to hit the fan. Frank and I grew up in the same the neighborhood and were hired months apart at the same accounting firm. Our roles at the firm differed. He was a CMA, and I was a Forensic Account.“Sure,” I replied.“Now,” he mouthed.When we hit the street I asked him, “Marie and your girls are okay, Frank?...
Love Stories