“If I was Todd's wife in real life, I'd have to kill myself. Okay, maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic. I wouldn't kill myself. But I'd definitely turn lesbian, at the very least.”

“Now, I want you to look at each other. Really look. And then I'd like you to each say something positive about the other person." "Now Todd, you go first."Todd eye balled me up and down."She appears to have all her teeth"."OOh, good one,Todd," I cooed,then turned to maggie and smiled sweetly. " And Todd smells very little like a pile of goat crap.”

“So I've made up with Mar. I've made up with Señor Shitslacks. I'd even forged a shaky truce with Amanda. The only person I still needed to deal with was Johnny Mercer. Oh yeah, I had to kill Gabe Walker, too, but there was plenty of time for that.”

“And i was buck-naked. Which probably would have made for an interesting night, but the last time i'd checked i was neither a porn star or a prostitute.”

“I jumped up and "casually" strolled a bit closer. I blinked my eyes in the sun. It couldn't be, could it? But it was.Gabe...."You know, if you're going to stalk someone, you should be less obvious."I wheeled around. It was Todd. He'd snuck up on me.He said, "For starters, try not to standing in the middle of a field, gawking at your prey."I kicked at a dusty clump of grass. "Gawking? I... I'm... not gawking. I was just watching your girlfired putting the moves on someone else. Jealous?""Oh Gabe Webber?" Todd laughed. "Uh...no."I shielded my eyes from the sun. "Why? What's wrong with Gabe Webber?""Nothing. As in, there's nothing there. He has the personality of dry toast."How dare he insult my Gabe? "Oh yes. I forgot. You prefer the company of assholes and jerks. As they say, 'Birds of a feather...'""That must be why you hang around.”

“I hate dancing. I mean, I don't hate it. I just - I'm terrible. I'm totally into music, but I really can't dance."Phew. Relief. "Yeah, you said that this morning. Neither can I." I hitched my thumb at the couples on the dance floor. "Not that I'd call that dancing.""Heh. Yeah.""Sometimes I wish I lived back when people had balls."Oh God. That did not come out right.”

“So he likes being mean to you," she said. "And you like that he likes being mean to you.""And I like being mean to him, too, don't forget.""Of course not. Pleasure from meaness. There's a name for it: sadomasochism.""Thanks a lot." I said. "That's just what I need. A mental picture of Todd Harding laced up in a black leather bodysuit with a whip in one hand and his wang in the other.”