The smile was in thanks for the beer. Get over it, Rebecca. As for the slut at the bar, you would have to move to the bar for there to be a slut there..."Rebecca's mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. "You've got some nerve." She started to rise."Don't make a scene, Rebecca. I just came here to talk. If you stop taking pot shots at me, I'll stop firing back. Deal?"Rebecca was half standing. She glared at him, looked around at all the people in the bar and then sat back down. "Fine. So what. I gathered mine to put in my bag and noticed something loose in the middle pages, I opened it up and there folded in the middle was a torn out page with my writing, staring back at me. A parting gift from Mr. M simply letting me know that he’d read my writings. Was it so terrible? Had I really embarrassed myself as much as I thought? Or had it been a dream?Dear Mr. M,First off I owe you an apology. A few months ago someone stole your good pen, then you found it. And remember the same thing. More

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