"I..." I said. This was not good.

"It's a little tight," she admitted, turning around and wiggling her butt at me. The floofy white ribbon on the back, whatever it's called, ruffled provocatively. "But do you think Brodie will like it?"

"I think his wife's going to have a heart attack."

"Oh good!" she said, clapping her hands together. "That's one less plate to make. Here, now you take this." She shoved a bag into my arms and clacked past me into the apartment. "Man, your place is clean," she said. She inspected the kitchen, checking the drawers for her tools, scoped out every cupboard, and then put her hands...