“The heat of the summer transformed the green grass into long brown straw, only the weeds were green. Claire didn't mind, the weeds had pretty flowers. Unlike Tony's flowers, which had been sentenced to his yard, gardens, or clay pots, these flowers grew free wherever they wanted. Furthermore, weeds were survivors. When all else died, the weeds remained. Yes, Claire liked weeds.”

“Life, it is not simple like a garden, where flowers are always flowers and weeds are always weeds.”

“Tony lifted his glass and proposed a toast, “To you, the only person in this world, who can keep me on my toes.”Claire held her glass.”

“This was wrong. Tony didn’t want to have feelings. The sex was great. It was okay to want her, dominate her, and control her. It was not okay to want to be with her, please her, and love her. Yet every one of his senses desired Claire.”

“Claire to Tony: "I know you enjoy coffee, I'd offer you some. But, the last time I got you coffee, it didn't work out so well for me.”

“Tony poured wine into each glass and handed one to Claire. “Do you remember when we had wine at the Red Wing?”Claire closed her eyes, recalling the scene from a lifetime ago, and nodded. “I do.”“I’d been watching you for years. I was so nervous that night. I thought I was planning your acquisition.” He looked into his red liquid. Her stance straightened, “If you’re using business metaphors, may I suggest hostile takeover. It’s more appropriate.”

“Claire knew she was in control of her actions, she could choose to fight or complain. Her plan was for self-preservation until she was free. This had been a good old-fashioned thunderstorm, loud and boisterous but no real damage.”