I replayed the whole meeting with Kelsey and her mother in my head as I packed up my briefcase and headed for my car. I still couldn't make up my mind if she had been flirting with me or not. The truth was, I was out of practice. I was twelve years still recovering from a bitter divorce from my first wife who'd been unfaithful and a credit card addict to boot. I had avoided women in general – in part out of anger and in part because I had been close to broke as I struggled to pay off debts she'd accrued. By the time I had regained my...