Thick limbed. Wool headed. He couldn't seem to get anything right.Orders were misplaced, dishes dropped and broken, bills miscalculated.Stupid things ...hat even a cut rate droid chassis would never screw up.But fatty still wouldn't let him leave.He moaned, stomach churning, heard the clattering of silver ware andvoices raised in outrage. Somehow he'd knocked a plate over as henavigated between tables."S-sorry," was all he managed to get out, but it did little to calm theangered customers. Tyrel. "But goddamn it, she was a fine little piece of tail." Hanson tightened his jaw until the muscles twitched at his temples while he thought of Billie's lovely body. The long, straight, flowing brown hair. The way it tumbled over her shoulders like strands of silk. And those pretty, thin shoulders and that narrow, sweet-smelling back. He laughed again, realizing that he'd never really smelled it. It would smell good, though, Hanson was sure. There was that orange T-shirt, too, that made her. More

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