on You Tube, and got turned on enough to at least return his phone call. At least would make that embarrassing moment that seemed to be lasting an eternity worth it—a little.

Then it dawned on him. Blake was only one resource he had. The other happened to be a former Miss America with a penchant for feeldoes and her husband’s ass. He flipped his cell open and hit the speed dial for the third time that day.

It barely rang when he heard Tippy say, “Baby Doll, I’m beginning to feel like your slave. You better be putting out some time soon to make this all worth my while.” Which was followed, or course, by a giggle.

“Honey, if you can fill this next request for me, I will do anything you want—and I mean anything.” And he meant that last part to sound really, really dirty.

“Oh sugar….” He heard her yell, “Colton get that sex toy out of the dishwater and get ready to have some fun!” She put her cell phone back to her lips. “And exactly what can I do for you, Baby Doll?”

“Pearce Warner. I need Pearce Warner.”

“Okay.” She said flatly. “I call you right back.” And hung up the phone.

Ian was stunned. Could it have been that easy? Was Mamie Rae Tipton God? Would he soon find himself at the receiving end of that purple thing? If Tippy could deliver Pearce Warner, he was willing to give it up.

He started to hyperventilate a bit, so he turned and opened his office window, taking deep breaths. He looked down at the street, and saw a familiar figure leaving the building. “What the fuck?”

That couldn’t be Clair. Could it? He bent down to try and get a better look at the woman hustling across the lot and into parking. The woman was so far away, but that walk….
His cell phone rang.

“Tippy?”

“At your service. Pearce owes me one and now so do you. He’ll call you with in the hour. I’ll think of something special.”

Ian laughed with joy and giddiness, “I bet you will. By the way, is there somewhere between here and home that you know of to get fresh veggies? And I couldn’t care less if they are organic or grown straight from a bag of chemicals.”

“Sure, Baby Doll, there’s a nice man with a stand just off the exit before yours. His name is Willie Dean, tell him Tippy sent you.”

“That makes two I owe you.”

“Honey, someday your ass is all mine!” Tippy teased. “Bye sugar and sugar? The boys will be back soon, and we’ll all be in your kitchen by the time you get home. Call me if you need me. Bye bye”

This time though Tippy was wrong, it wasn’t within the hour that Warner called, it was almost immediately.

“Ian Justyn? This is Pearce Warner; a mutual friend asked that I call you as soon as possible.” Ian would have recognized that deep, smooth voice anywhere.

“Yes, Mr. Warner, thank you for calling so quickly.”

The voice chuckled, “Well when Tippy calls…as I am sure you know. She said you were her neighbor?”

“Yes, I have that honor, and most days I