James brought Darryl over and made the introductions."I would like you to meet the extraordinary Ms. Cheryl Woodson, photographer, who is working for ...hom, Time?" Correct, plus USA Today and some others." She replied in an accent that came from somewhere south of Atlanta. It was so syrupy sweet that on some women, it would have been comical, but on her was as irresistible as a slice of pecan pie, and, Darryl suspected, about as good for you. It was Mae West meets Tobacco Road with a lap. I sulked about that for a while. Then I caught myself and made myself pull out of it.Yes, she'd had sex with me once. But that had been as a client. I certainly wasn't a client anymore. Even our 'deal' really wasn't a business arrangement anymore. I'd spend time with Billy regardless of whether Tamara and I had our talks while he was doing the dishes. He was ten, but he was my friend. Why wouldn't his mom see me the same way I saw him?I played back our encounters in my mind. Had she ever hinted. More

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