“You aren’t dressed.”
“I’m not going to Robert’s party.”
“Honey…”
Karen threw the dishrag into the sink. “Robert hit on me last Thanksgiving. Don’t you care he’s a pervert?”
“He’s my boss and my evaluation is next week.”
“Your shirt is pressed.” She opened the dishwasher. “Go.”
Karen listened to Mitch dress in the next room. At least she still recognized the sounds he made.
Mitch walked out and tightened his tie. “Should I tell Wendy you said hello?”
Her jaw clenched. “Warm the car. I’ll be dressed in fifteen minutes.”
Mitch whistled on the way to the car.
