Boxers had work to do to close out the Gulfstream, and would drive himself home in his Nissan pickup. Jonathan had a ride waiting for him. Venice stood in the lobby, arms folded and wound up tighter than a watch spring. When they finally made eye contact, it looked as if she'd just taken her first breath of the day. He saw tears in her eyes. Venice was a famous crier. "Welcome home," she said. "I was worried." Jonathan allowed himself to be hugged. "Like I always say, do what you do best." Venice understood that he'd just said thank you. "Want me to help with a bag?" "Nah, I got them. Did you bring the monstrosity?" "Her name is Glow Bird," Venice said, fishing through her purse for her keys, "And I got a terrific parking place." By any man's yardstick, Venice Alexander was hot. Her skin was the color of milk chocolate, and there were days when her smile could put the sun out of business. Jonathan could tell from her clothing that she was proud of her recent weight loss. They both knew that the pounds would come back--the same twenty came and went on a three-year cycle--but for now, it was nice to see her strutting a little.
