I'm at the busy airport tapping red fingernails on wood.

Leaving everything I've built in Boston behind me.

Hence the booze before noon on a Tuesday.

Tap Tap Tappity Tap Tap.

When Justin Cocker slides onto the bar stool next to mine.

More gorgeous in real life than on TV. Does he recognize me? Nope.

He should.

The witty banter is amusing though.

Until he leans over with a hot smirk and wets my everything ...

"I know a janitor's closet that locks."

My eyes steel with shock. We are in public.

You'd think a lady would turn down such an offer, right?

Not today she wouldn't