“Wes, we have to go to the bar,” Janet
said.
Wes gaped at her. “What?” he shouted.
“Babe, I can see you’re happy enough to celebrate, even though I don’t know
why…”
“You don’t know why?” she shrieked. “You
were right there! You saw how…”
“All I saw was you calling my client—at least
I hope she’s still my client-- a bitch and a slut and…”
“No, I wasn’t. That’s what I was calling
the woman who wanted my mother to think she had slept with my dad,” Janet
corrected gleefully.
“Didn’t you say it was Ms. Harris? That she
was one and the same?”
“Yes, but she didn’t know that I knew it
was her,” she said. Janet actually did a little happy dance right on the spot and hugged Wes again.
