In Hoxie We Trust


Disclaimer: I own my sense of reality; actual reality is out of my hands.

AN: See if you can spot the times I don't know anything, trust me that's a not small protion of the time.


Chapter Ten: Parallel

Meanwhile, with Elizabeth – Iris and Don

Don rocked on his heels in Lindsay's lobby waiting for Elizabeth – Iris; his anxiety level was up so high that even a hippie couldn't touch it. He didn't understand all the feelings he was experiencing, the totally amount of hours he knew her should not equate the amount of feelings he was having for her. This was just a friendly help, assistance to a friend's friend; he was being nice. Yeah, but Flack, you're not nice. How the hell Lindsay Monroe's voice got in his head he didn't know. He should just ignore the craziness going on in his brain, as his heels connected to the ground and he lifted his toes in a roll – like motion he focused on a spot on the marble floor that looked like an elephant, his mind danced around what that would mean to Freud when he heard the elevator doors open. The first thing he saw was a pair of boots that should be registered as lethal weapons, then toned legs clad in sheer black hose, his eyes went up farther, past a grey shirt, purple blouse, black belt, to the face of Elizabeth – Iris Olsen. His body should not have the knee – jerk reaction that it was.

"Hey." She greeted him smiling. He knew if he made an 'H' sound it would come out as 'Hello, I love you.' So instead he nodded casually,

"Ready to go?" Elizabeth – Iris felt heat attack her paper white skin, she felt like she was going on her first date. This is not a date, repeat this is not a date, its business. She screamed in her head as he led her to his car parked at a meter in front. Now her head was screaming, Say something! Stupid schizophrenic inner self.

"Thank you so much for giving me a hand, you're my hero." Not that! Her inner voice chide her, Way to make light a word he is, he's NYPD, he's a hero without helping idiots like you! GaH! Shut up voice or get poked with a Q tip. Flack was totally ignorant of the insanity in her head and chuckled.

"I do my best to please." Why did he have to have such a sexy chuckle? She soon realized life would've been easier if she had handled this alone. She slid into the passenger seat beside him awkward as hell.

"So," he asked, "where to?" Elizabeth – Iris dug in her purse for her notebook.

"Corner of La Guardia and west 4th1." She read, "We're meeting Jerry Silverman there."

"The Jerry Silverman?" Don asked as he pulled into traffic, his brows shot up, Jerry Silverman was a big time realtor. Farmer was nice and probably did very well but they seemed to be in different circles.

"An officer I worked with's wife's niece is married to him."

"They met though the roommate's boyfriend's sister's dog." Elizabeth – Iris laughed.

"I thought the same thing, but who cares, the Jerry Silverman is finding me an apartment!" She was just a little giddy, and they laughed together until the rumble of mirth faded into silence.

Elizabeth – Iris watched him drive out of the corner of her eye in a twisted masochistic, border line voyeuristic manner. He was really getting to her. His blue eyes were locked on the road in front of him in a serious penetrating stare, but his face was relaxed. His strong jaw had no tension and his profile highlighted his nose, a body feature she was finding more and more sexy. You know what they say about noses… Bad self! She chide herself and shifted focus down. His hands were big, and shapely, his long fingers held the wheel tightly, his every turn had confidence in it. And damn if it didn't want to make her melt right into her stiletto boots. She had to get her mind out of the gutter, her eyes on her task, her lungs working, and her heart out of the equation. She was way to busy to entertain fantasies about attractive co - workers of her friend.

Don was caught in a catch twenty two; on the one hand he was on the road past the Lessing bomb sight. The explosion engulfed him in living color as he drove, he should be over it, but he knew that he never would be. The other hand brought Elizabeth – Iris. The city lights were reflected in her beautiful violet eyes making them dance and glow. She was so small, the definition of petite. At lest a foot shorter than him he could only guess her weight, but something told him that he could bench-press her easily. Everything about her was slim, her body, face, nose, fingers, heels on her shoes. He'd seen other skinny girls but none had made him feel like she did, he wanted to protect her in more than an NYPD way. He wanted to have the soul privilege of providing a jacket and defending her honor. He wasn't a player, but he also wasn't a romantic and the feelings were as out of character as heels and a dress.

Her prospective apartment building was of average New York height and a typical shade of grey. Built in 2001 it was still a pre war, whatever that meant. Don and Elizabeth – Iris got out of the car, eyes drawn to different things. He noted the security system, just a buzzer. Don didn't like buzzer apartments, they were only a small step up from nothing, he knew exactly how many deaths occurred by bad buzzing skills, the thought of Farmer so unprotected crossed the apartment off the list immediately for him. He'd like to see her in a doorman building, like his. His doorman was retired NYPD, had worked the same time as Senior Flack, he was a good guy. Of course if Elizabeth – Iris lived in his apartment building she might as well live with him, he could personally see to her safety, she was just too small not to have…. Whoa, whoa, whoa, he had to stop the run away train of thought before it jumped tracks to something more… just more. He had to get her out of his head. Elizabeth – Iris looked at the building, it wasn't what she expected, her dream New York life didn't have her in a corporate cookie cutter, she wanted something more unique and posh for her Carrie Bradshaw fantasy life. But it didn't have a doorman; she didn't want another person knowing about her 'sleepovers'. Not that she was a nympho, she did however believe in the occasional night cap. Of course why was she thinking about sex, she knew a total of four single men in New York; Mac Taylor, Sheldon Hawkes, Danny, and Don. And of them Hawkes had a girlfriend, Danny should be with Lindsay, and Mac was a little too like her father for comfort, plus he and Stella had a vibe going. That left Don, and she only met him a week ago (ish). Besides with his looks he probably had a rotating calendar of women. She wouldn't make the list, he probably liked girls who at least looked him in the chin, not to mention had a chest. She was so flat she was almost concave; Lindsay was Pam Anderson by comparison. She sighed and looked up at him,

"Well, ready to go?" He smiled and gestured, after you.

Jerry Silverman was an unfortunate middle age man, once handsome he had gone to seed more than a dandelion. Although only a few inches taller than Elizabeth – Iris he weighed enough to be taller than Flack.

"Miss Olsen." The man said shaking her hand.

"Elizabeth – Iris, please." She replied, Silverman nodded.

"Jerry." He then turned to Flack. "You're…" he began.

"Don Flack." Don said unsure of how to explain their relationship.

"He's my second opinion." Farmer jumped in before things got awkward. Don smiled, Jerry's look changed slightly. Yeah buddy, just try and pull the wool, I'm a native. Don thought laughing on the inside. Jerry began the tour, Elizabeth – Iris clicked her heels after him never really staying in one spot as she looked at the apartment. She went from looking at the closet to standing in the middle of the bed room to watching traffic in the living room; it was like she was searching for a signal for her soul and the apartment's reception was poor. She flipped her hair behind her as she opened the bathroom door, he never realized how long the Indian ink strands where but as they hung loose down her back they grazed the top of her hips and very nice butt, the quaff was long and straight and looked smoother than silk. She stepped into the washroom and he absent mindedly followed her, still mesmerized at how much hair she had. The shower/ tub was smashed against the toilet which was smashed against the sink which was against the door which was wedging Elizabeth – Iris in, he was pressed between the amenities and her in no time.

"Little bathroom." He commented awkwardly trying to get out of the room and place his hands appropriately.

"No shit." She replied, they snorted at the bad pun. She moved towards the door catching their hips together and more firmly wedging them between wall and sink. She smiled up at him covering the weirdness with humor.

"This place is out, Lindsay would go insane in here." She side stepped again, poking him with her pointy toed shoes but she managed to free them, she stood in the hall shyly after the close encounter of the third kind.

"Claustrophobic?" He asked joining her in the by far roomier hallway.

"Like nobody's business." She confirmed they walked back into the living room together. "Well Jerry, what's behind door number two?"

Elizabeth – Iris slid into the passenger seat as they started to the next apartment building.

"Do you think Danny would be at Lindsay's by now?" she asked pulling out her blackberry, Don shrugged.

"I guess so, why?"

"I'm promoting open lines of communication." She told him pressing the speed dial. There was a pause before Farmer jumped on her friend,

"Are you going to talk to him?" Elizabeth – Iris asked forwardly.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Lindsay hissed.

"Talk to him, he deserves to know." Farmer replied.

"Elizabeth – Iris I am a big girl."

"All the more reason to have someone who can take care of you when you fall."

"Go look at your apartments, stop jacking around with my life, get one of your own."

"Love you too babe." Farmer hung up and turned to Don. "Text Danny." she told him, Don unclipped his phone from his belt and handed it to her.

"I'm not going to endanger my life by helping you." He told her, she took the phone from him brushing her long fingers against his in the process. She began to punch numbers.

"She can still get you on conspiracy; the left doesn't need to know what the right is doing." She hit send and handed the phone back to him.

"So what do you think of the apartment?" he asked sneaking a look over at her, twilight danced around her.

"Nice subject change." She commented, "Up holding the manly rule of not talking relationships?"

"Danny and I talk, just not with people who know other parties…" He swallowed his tongue a non verbal sign suggesting, 'I should not have said that'.

"I see, what happens between us stays between us, just like Vegas. Decent policy, Hoxies are the same way." She smiled at him with a wink.

"So about that apartment." Don asked getting back to his original diversion.

"You'll probably think I'm nuts," she said.

"There's no probably." He smirked at her as she shot him a face.

"But I want an apartment that speaks to me."

"The apartment whisperer. Now tell me what nothings will it drop in your ear?" she was quiet for a moment.

"I want something more unique, this place was very corporate, too corporate for me, I know pretty antidisestablishmentarian-istic for a lawyer."

"Now that's a five dollar word." He commented.

"Only got me a fifteen outta twenty on my HE10 essay."

"Heaton?" he questioned.

"HE Ten. Honors English Ten. She didn't like my "verbiage", who uses "verbiage" in everyday language? Crazy ol' lady."

"Alright other than something more bohemian for our establishment worker, what else?"

"Shut up piglet. I would love a two bedroom apartment with a washer and dryer." He laughed, she laughed, the sound reverberated through him changing his pulse and adding another beat to the drum line of the city.

"That's it?" Don was impressed.

"What can I say I'm low maintenance." She replied the cock eyed grin got wider.

"Good to know." Don said he arched a brow at her with a wink. He then turned serious. "What about security?' the question was a loaded pistol.

"Dunno." Elizabeth – Iris said shrugging.

"Not what I want to hear." Was the reprimand.

"I want good security, that's not really an issue. Who wants to get robbed or raped or killed?" She met his eyes they seemed to say, 'Good I don't want you hurt either.'

"Then I'd suggest something along the lines of a doorman and lobby…" He told her.

"Does it really matter, buzzer vs. door man?" she asked him.

"I'd prefer a doorman and lobby with people, more to watch your back."

"Easier to get stalked too." She said. He remembered a case where a woman became a doorperson to observe the man who she believed killed her daughter. But he wasn't going to tell Farmer that.

"It's much harder to have people identify criminals when you have a buzzer; it is easier to get a criminal in too." Don said. Traffic hit bringing them to a standstill.

"I still don't know if I'd want that many people knowing my business. Lindsay does just fine with a buzzer."

"Lindsay carries a gun. And it's not like Dan- I'm happy about the fact she's got a PA for security." He tried to cover up the slip of Danny's affection, Elizabeth – Iris caught it but let the moment go. "As for doormen, mine was a cop at the same time as my father so I know he's top notch." Don told her.

"There any two bedroom places available?" she asked, traffic began to move again but before he moved with it he snuck a long look at her.

"One bedrooms." If she lives in my building why can't she just live with me? Then I could protect her myself. She clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"Two bedrooms." She said smiling.

"Well I tried."

The second apartment Jerry showed made Elizabeth – Iris' eyes light up. It was a four story building made of red brick and greenhouse windows. The fire escape was black wrought iron and it snaked its way across the front of the building it was as bohemian a New York place as she could get without living in Alphabet City. He wouldn't trust her in such and area; she would get in trouble in no time. But this apartment was trouble resistant, he could tell, although it had the buzzer he detested it also had a well peopled lobby and at least three locks on the door. She walked in amazement to the center of the living room her head back she spun slowly taking in the room's every aspect. Like a kid in the candy store she oo-ed and awed over everything. The large green house windows showed the city in its glory and filled the room with the soon dead light of day. Excitedly she walked from room to room, Don could hear her heels clicking through the apartment as he and Jerry sat back and let her look.

"What's the legal on this?" Elizabeth – Iris finally asked coming back into the living room. Jerry strung together a jargon filled sentence that he ignored, Elizabeth – Iris replied to it with more legal terminology. Don walked over to the window and let the two talk more; the city was lit up and even though he was born and raised in the place the view of the lights took his breath away. How long did he stand there with his hand in his pockets and thoughts miles away he didn't know, it wasn't until her hand touched his bicep did he snap into the present. If life was a stage this would be the seen where he would pull her into his arms and she would lean into him as they cuddled and watched the lights of the NYC night. But no such luck. She smiled softly.

"Come on," she said nodding her head towards the door, "I'll buy you dinner."

Don felt like a fish out of water as he and Elizabeth – Iris entered 'The Ivies'. Or as he referred to it in his head, the 'no community college zone', more than likely the name of the place was derived from the university the cliental attended. The place tasted like money. He was thankful for his suit and tie, he for once fit in. Elizabeth – Iris on the other hand did not. She appeared to be the first and only woman to go to the place and dress like a woman; not like a woman would think a man would dress if he was a woman. Suits in varying degrees of ugly were the choice across the board for wardrobes. Farmer had none of that. Her light grey skirt didn't hide her legs and her blouse and belt were designed to highlight her waist. She was too chic for the yuppie establishment. Although as he followed her to the bar he noticed he wasn't the only thing trailing her. The eyes of several men weren't on their respective dates, but his. Not that she's your date man. He reminded himself.

"The dirtiest martini you can get me… and…" she looked at Flack with the same naughty half smile she had given the bartender as she ordered her drink. Don swallowed.

Bourbon – neat." The stuffy place required a stuffy drink. The barkeep nodded and set to work. They stood in comfortable silence until their drinks arrived making good time. She smiled at the iceless amber in an old fashioned glass.

"Sin to dilute it." She said sipping her martini. The way she held the glass brought his eyes to her slim fingers they had beauty that would be insulted by an over done ring. She only wore one on her left had, it was on her middle finger. A Claddagh ring of white gold was the perfect thing. She looked so fem fatal as she talked about his machismo drink. She brought the drink to her lips and his eyes followed it there, she caught his eye and raised a brow, he was staring and she noticed.

"You drink bourbon?" he asked not knowing anything else to say.

"One of the ties between Lindsay and I is the fact that we both are chicks with dicks." She said, he both chocked and blushed. The word 'dicks' from her lush lips sent his blood pumping in all the wrong directions. "To be in our field of work we really should be men." Elizabeth – Iris elaborated. "Bourbon is a nice way to play dirty with the big boys."

"Maybe you should drink mine and I should drink yours then. I really don't like bourbon; the situation just seemed to call for it." Flack as they walked away from the bar and towards an out of the way table.

"Kentucky or Tennessee?" She asked.

"There's a difference?"

"Sacrilege!" She said thrusting her martini into his hand, replacing the old fashioned glass she ripped out in the first place. She took a sip.

"Kentucky, Makers Mark at a guess. The good stuff."

"So wise in the way of bourbon." Flack commented in his best Sir Bedivere impression.

"My Father liked his bourbon." Elizabeth – Iris carelessly tossed out into the conversation. Images of drunken abuse tormented his senses and raised his hackles. She paused and then realized what she had said, "Oh! Not like that. I mean he literally liked his bourbon. He was a southern boy at heart and every family gathering him and his male family members would sit and drink bourbon, smoke cigarillos, play pool, talk some smack. I was the wonder boy without the stones." Don could see a little farmer sitting on some southern plantation drinking hard liquor out of a mason jar and watching guys in panama hats sink q-balls. It was a homey feeling. He'd never had an interest in going south before, but the imagery was inviting. He wanted to know more.

They sat discussing randomness of the day quite content for a good fifteen minutes. He could feel a ghost of her foot across his shins every time she moved and he felt a ghost of an emotion as he watched her speak with her hands. If those hands could be on him… suddenly they were. She touched his bicep and slid close to him.

"Two o'clock." She whispered into his ear tickling and exciting. He looked and saw no one. "Other two o'clock" she hissed. He looked the other way, there coming towards them was a tall, all American asshole in Armani.

"See him?" She asked, he could hardly respond as she slid her hand across his and intertwined their fingers. "He's the kind of ex that means if you play along I'll do what ever you want."

"That my dear is a dangerous proposition." He replied smiling and adjusting more towards her; he moved his hand to be on top, it nearly hid all of hers from view. Shortly after the ex was upon them. She gave his hand a little squeeze before standing.

"Liza" the man schmoozed; Don noted that both he and Elizabeth - Iris stiffened as the man spoke. After the New York greeting of air kisses the ex said,

"It's been too long, Liza. How fabulous to see you." It was clear Farmer didn't agree. The man didn't notice however, he quickly moved to sizing up Don.

"Liza darling, won't you introduce us? Yes Liza darling, whose body will Mac and Stella be processing if he doesn't go away very soon.

"Noah, this is Don Flack. Don – Noah Prescott." The men shook hands as if they were performing niceties before a duel. The look in Don's blue eyes was so intense that Noah should've been dead. Unfortunately looks couldn't kill.

"Noah and I attended Dowd together." Don knew this but Noah didn't know Don did. A sardonic smile spread over his think lips.

"So diplomatic in saying we slept together. For a while I knew every intimate detail of your life, then I lost track of you. You went to Georgetown, right…" Don didn't know what if anything Noah said after that, his brain kicked into full rage suppressant at that point and the only thing he was aware of was the itch in his fingers that longed to kill the ex. They actually slept together what had she been thinking? Dear God, don't tell him she liked assholes.

"You might look back fondly on those days; I was really unimpressed – found nothing there to commit to memory." She replied carelessly in presentation, deadly in intent. Don chocked back a laugh. That's my girl.

"Perhaps if you had stayed this would be a different conversation." Smug bastard.

"We both seemed to have interests else where." She kept her chill up full force, Don was frost bitten as a bystander.

"Aw yes law, helping people – Pro Bono Publico. How's that going for you?' He clearly thought with distain of public servants.

"Better than the stint I spent in your world; corporations ripping out my soul. Although I suppose you're more immune to that."

"Careful Liza, Don't want Ron knowing about that ice water blood on a first date." Don had had quite enough; he was around her waist and pulled her close. Her body jig - sawed perfectly with his.

"More of a celebration than a first date." Don said smiling of the look on the bastards face.

"Actually kept a guy longer than a week Liza?"

"Hopefully a lot longer, Iris and I are engaged." Don's announcement had both the ex's and Farmer's jaw dropped. He just hoped Elizabeth – Iris was a good actress.

"My, my Liza, who ever would've thought; what a perfect reason to be here." Prescott went from smug to shock in sixty seconds.

"So Noah, what brings you to The Ivies, celebrating wife four, the divorce of wife three, or creating the grounds for divorce three?"

"What are you implying Liza?" Elizabeth – Iris nodded back to the bar, a dye job blonde in a micromini red dress stood impatiently watching their every move. Noah followed her indication and shot the blonde a cocky grin before turning back to them.

"I'm drinking to my now ex wife's health… and I hate to drink alone." Elizabeth – Iris sipped her martini with a cutting twinkle in her eye.

"If you don't hurry back to her you might end up by yourself, a tragedy that would be." She said sarcastically.

"I'll take the cue to leave. Good to see you again my dear Liza." He said nodding to her before turning to him, "Watch her tongue Sean." And with that he left, returning to his micromini clad date. Don and Elizabeth – Iris remained for a moment still as if Noah was still there. Don looked down at her.

"You wanna get outta here?" He asked. She sagged into him defeated. Her dark head nodded yes, yet her eyes couldn't meet his.

"Sorry about that." She said embarrassed.

When she bought their drinks se gave him a look that suggested castration if he thought otherwise about who paid. Noah was nowhere to be found, until;

"Not leaving because of me are you?" He called out as they reached the door. Don took her hand defensively. If he were a dog, not a man, he would've growled and barked, 'MINE!'

"Oh no… Don just got paged. On call and such." Her lie was quick on its feet. Noah blinked.

"You're a doctor?"

"Detective." Don replied moving his suit jacket to reveal his badge on his belt. They left her ex in stunned silence. He didn't drop her hand as they headed out into the early darkness. As they walked the block to the place they parked the car Don spoke,

"After that I could go for some ice cream."

"Ice cream?!" Elizabeth – Iris repeated surprised. "It's too bloody cold for ice cream Don."

"It can never be 'too bloody cold' for ice cream Iris." He replied. Why he called her Iris he didn't know it had popped out at the bar as well. His thoughts on the subject were halted however by her shiver. He separated their hands momentarily so that he could remove her jacket and give it to her.

"No really Don, you'll get cold, I'm already numb, don't worry about it." She protested but he thrust the jacket over her shoulders anyway.

"I don't feel the cold, I'm a New Yorker. Now put that on properly." She sighed and muttered something about region and ego but she slipped her arms through the sleeves. She wasn't swimming so much as drowning in his jacket as they got into the car. It was huge on her, hanging well past her knees and hands. But once she got past the fit she found it was warm from his body and smelled like him. It was as if he was holding her instead of his jacket. A bit unnerving to feel such cuddle power when for the last few years she was as independent as Thomas Jefferson's declaration. Don slid behind the wheel and stole a glance at her in the rearview mirror before starting the engine. She looked ridiculous, it was the sort of absurdity that was so endearing and utterly sex that it made him burn with desire, just a touch would satisfy him. But he kept his hand to himself as he set the car's wheels in motion towards the ice cream parlor he wanted to take her to.

The neon sign proclaimed proudly 'I Scream' with an open mouth as a logo. Don held the door for her and the ghost of his hand on the small of her back; she stepped into the retro black white and red parlor, not seeing anything, too enamored with the poltergeist of his fingers on her back. Don led her up to the counter where a fuchsia haired girl stood smiling at him.

"Hey Bex, put me onto that road to true love…" he said smiling at the youth; the girl looked at her, taking in her jacket but saying nothing about it. Elizabeth – Iris looked at the mouth board and quickly picked something.

"Hot under the collar; an aphrodisiac ice cream?" It was a question and a request.

"It's really good." The girl said before beginning to dish up the orders.

"But does it work?" Elizabeth – Iris questioned playfully wiggling her eye brows at Don who chocked on her words. She just smiled and followed him to the register, digging in her bag as she went. Don noticed however and grabbed her seeking hand.

"I've got this one." He told her looking her in the eye. She couldn't argue with those blue eyes.

Don paid for the dishes and led her to an open booth. He had a waffle cone that could double as a traffic cone full of Rocky Road ice cream; she was given a slightly smaller bowl of chocolate covered strawberry ice cream and a bawdy grin. She smiled back and took a large spoon full and ate it, turning the spoon over and seductively pulling it out of her mouth. He burst into laughter and she followed, though she quickly turned pensive.

"I'm sorry about Noah." She said quietly, almost embarrassed. He wondered why she would ever be with a man like that but he didn't voice his confusion, he just brushed it off.

"It's not a problem." He told her.

"Nobody should have to put up with him who doesn't have to." She told him.

"You don't have to either." He replied.

"I lie in the grave I dug." It was a tone of voice he was unused to, no humor or smile in it, cold and impersonal was something he thought her incapable of. She diverted her eyes as a tint of pink spread over her cheeks. There was an embarrassed silence.

"You must be at a loss," she said voice soft with embarrassment, "as to why I spent those months with him." He was, but he also wasn't about to admit it.

"I don't judge." Don felt his heart flutter like a rollercoaster drop.

"Noah Prescott was the richest, most popular guy at Dowd and the biggest mistake of my life. I am Charlotte Simmons." He reached across the table and took her jacket covered hand in his.

"Forget regret or life is yours to miss." He told her mesmerized by her eyes; his words brought sparks of laughter to them.

"No day but today." She replied. "Who dragged you to RENT?"

"Nobody, I bought the tickets of my own accord."

"I would'a never pegged you as a RENThead." She told him flat out.

"I'm not really, I mean it's a good play for a musical but I'm no crazy person… But you can't live in this city and not go to Broadway." It was an honest answer and she chuckled.

"RENT was the most masculine thing at the time, eh?" She quipped; his hand was still on hers as he laughed.

"Pretty much."

"You don't deserve tickets with that attitude. The closest I've been to Broadway was Broadway, Saint Louis."

"That won't do, we'll need to remedy that ASAP." She smiled again; he tightened his grip on her fingers as tingles sped through him, his ice cream was forgotten. The moment passed however, he felt her hand move and reluctantly let it go.

"You come here often?" She stated more than questioned.

"Every Saturday with my Y basketball league." Don replied nodding.

"You coach? That's so…" The joy in her face added fuel to his fire, she was too cynical about the world.

"Don's Devils."

It was a quarter to eleven when Elizabeth – Iris and Don finally left the parlor. He walked her back that night reluctant and sad; he had had more fun with her on a non date than any real date he'd been on in years.


1 I know this is in the Village but seeing how I've never been near New York state I know nothing more than that.