She turned to her husband, shocked. My own mouth dropped two floors. Maybe I shouldn't be as shocked as I was. Look at my own parents and what had happened with them. For that matter, Gretchen's parents. Maybe I was blind to the sexual appetites of people older than myself.

Quinn handed them a card with his phone number jotted on it. "We'll be at The Press Hotel by Marriott, until eleven tomorrow morning. Think about it. If you want to join us, call me, and I'll give you the room number."

When they walked away there was a lot of back and forth chatter between them. What I wouldn't...