The fact that John was there with him was reassuring. He felt like a coward, which he had never felt before, and he didn’t like himself for feeling ...ike this. The door opened and he saw her sitting there on the couch, dressed in jeans and one of his sweatshirts swamping her small frame. Her face was bare of makeup, her eyes red from crying, legs up, arms wrapped around them, looking like a scared child. John pushed past him and walked over to sit down at the table, whilst Misha stood, hands in. ”“In front of everyone?” Lissa exclaimed.“No. We were working together and she just wasn’t getting the feel right. And when I suggested trying it a different way, she got all huffy and stormed off,” I said. I was a little miffed and didn’t want to talk about this. But there you have it.“A different way.”“Yeah.”“Your way.”“Well...” Shit! “We were just so out of synch. We were supposed to be working on the same part, but it was like we were working on two different pieces. It just wasn’t. More

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