Unfortunately, a partial cup of coffee sat cold and abandoned on the opposite end of the counter. "He said to tell you it just wasn't what he was looking for," Janet said as she poured me a cup of my own. “Oh, that’s too bad,” I managed to reply without crying or stomping my feet. “I know, I was just telling Tom that if that guy had bought this place I’d have thrown myself in for free,” she said, “Was that a beautiful man or what?” “You think so?” I said. “Are you kidding? Did you see those eyes?” She asked. “Maybe,” I said taking a sip of coffee and trying not to have an anxiety attack. So that was it then. I’d had my chance and blown it. It was back to the old me again. Me and the Rasmussens sipping cheap coffee in a split-level rancher. Me and Norm Larson trading phone sex for a quick sale. Me flirting with young baristas one minute and dodging the pathetic advances of middle-aged dads the next. What I would have given to feel ripped panties cutting the circulation to my hands again.
