I told Betsy she looked unusually tasty tonight as she bit a small cookie dunked in vanilla ice cream.

“I feel unusually tasty. As a matter-of-fact, I wish we had eaten at your house tonight because then we wouldn’t have to waste anytime driving home.”

“Well, eat up and let’s go.”

“You have a lot on your mind?” She asked.

“Right now, at this particular moment, it’s all I can do to not drag you out of here. Are you done?”

“No.” She picked up another cookie and eyed it like a jeweler eyes a diamond.

“I have ice cream and cookies at home,” I said, standing in an attempt to show my domineering manhood. “Let’s go.”

Quietly she sucked the end of the cookie and then licked it, then placed it lightly on her plate. She stood, grabbed her sweater, smiled at me like the tease she is, and walked away in front of me. I followed quickly.

Hours later we lay naked on my bed outside the sheets and covers. We were still sweating. I closed my eyes for what I thought was a moment but when I woke it was hours later and Betsy was out of my bed. I put on my sweat pants and found her in the kitchen sitting in her underwear at the kitchen table. “What’cha doing?” I startled her a bit. She was quiet as I sat down in front of her. “You okay?”

“You have a nice house.”

“Thanks,” I said, fearing she wanted to move in. I liked her but it was too soon for that.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have, too. It’s always the same. As soon as you’ve had enough you won’t call anymore cause all I have to offer is sex. I know that.”

“Betsy, I like you.”

“You just think you do because your dick is hard all the time.”

“I don’t think so.”

She smiled a bit, “It must feel great to know that you can take care of yourself.”

“It must, but I don’t feel that way. At least not all the time.”

“No?”

“And you know something else? I look at you and see someone who believes she can’t take care of herself, but she’s been doing it all along.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

“Can I ask you something else without you getting angry?”

“Sure.” I worried.

“Can I borrow some money?”

I wasn’t sure what I heard, “Money?” I asked

“Yeah. It would really help me out.”

“How much?”

“A hundred dollars.”

I looked at her eyes. I could tell it pained her to ask me this. “Absolutely,” I said, “You got it.”

Later that day I found myself again with silent Steve. Whatever hatred he had for me before was minuscule compared with hate that emanated from his body as I told him I was put in charge of his inheritance.

“How much did the bitch leave me?”

“You know all Hillary cared about in the end was your future.”

“Who’s fucking Hillary? The name is Hugo. I bet on the will the name is Hugo. Right? Am I right?”

No matter how much compassion I had for Steve, I couldn’t take hearing him talk about Hillary that way. Why was she dead and his evilness alive? “You’re right Steve. Let’s just say you’re always right and leave it at that.” I started to leave.

“I have a right to know the amount.”

“As always, you’re right. Three million dollars, Steve. But you can’t touch it until you can prove you’re not as crazy as a cat on acid. And you know what? That will never happen, which means it is me who controls the money and who controls you!” I knew I had said too much but I didn’t care.

I waited for his response when quietly he said, “And if you’re dead?”

I left and couldn’t help feeling a little ill knowing that man was quite capable of slitting my throat if given the chance.