I carried you to your room’ I told her trying not to look straight at her. Somehow people see it on my face when I lie.‘And how did I wake up in a...different dress? Did you fucking touch my clothes? Don’t tell me you saw me naked, bastard.’ I couldn’t tell whether she was angry or upset. I guess both.‘Ma’am, trust me, I had to. I wasn’t sure you could sleep covered in sweat. And it’s my job to take care of you, I get paid for this’ I told her looking straight in her eyes.‘Well, I’m fucking. It was Danny, and that usually meant something had gone wrong and almost certainly meant that House and my ice cream were going to have to wait. I flipped the phone open and launched right in. ‘You’re at an art gallery. What could possibly go wrong while you’re buried in conversation with groups of long-haired men that only bathe when their muse tells them to?’ ‘Plans have changed,’ Danny said. It wasn’t hard to hear the difference between Danny and his alter ego, Doctor Hammerstein. It could. More

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