My business took a turn on the first of February that ended up defining the direction in which we expanded. It started with one of the developers for whom I'd been building, coming by my office with an interesting proposal. His name was Laurence McManus, but everyone knew him as Larry Mac or just plain Mac.
Larry Mac was a big, burly, red-headed Irishman with an uncanny knack for reading the market. He'd throttled down his operation a year before the bottom fell out of the market, so the downturn didn't break him, as it had many of his competitors. I'd built a few houses for Mac in the last two years. We were business acquaintances and we got along well, but we were not really friends.
Mac was also a silver-tongued devil and a hell of a salesman.
"Joshua, I have an idea that will require a builder, and you were the first person I thought of," he said as soon as we sat down after shaking hands.
"I have a full plate in front of me right now, Mac, but I'm always willing to listen to a good proposal," I replied.
"I know you are busy, Josh," Mc Manus acknowledged, "and quite frankly, that's why I'm here. You are gaining a reputation for delivering a reasonably priced, high quality product, and it's ready when you promised. People are also starting to notice that you are innovative and creative when it comes to energy efficiency. I've got an idea that might be a challenge right up your alley..."
Mac explained that he had twelve hundred acres of woodlands just west of the interstate that he had been stuck with for years, because it was outside of the area the city serviced with water and sewer. When the market went belly up, Mac was able to purchase six smaller parcels that, when pieced together, abutted to his big tract and ran him right up to the city limits.
As soon as the last parcel cleared escrow, Mac had petitioned the city council to annex his tract into the city. The petition for annexation had unanimously passed the first reading by the council, and looked like a done deal. With city services available, Mac had a radically unique plan for the now seventeen hundred acre tract; plans that included a golf course, hiking and biking trails, wildlife sanctuaries, a few apartment buildings and seven to eight hundred single family dwellings.
His idea was radical, in that he wanted to create a 'green' community from the ground up. Ever part of the development would be on the cutting edge of energy efficiency, use of recycled materials and environmentally sound use of resources. With the emphasis the federal government was placing on going 'green', everyone and his cousin was jumping in to back McManus on the project. Even the power company was on board, as they committed to a four acre passive solar array. I was impressed and I was interested, with a caveat.
"If I did this Mac, I'd have to have a lot of input into the design of the houses, and you know this won't be cheap. I figure direct construction cost of a super efficient home will run anywhere from thirty to sixty dollars a square foot above normal building costs."
McManus nodded.
"Yep, that's about what I figured, but you let me worry about that. I am not building a single unit on speculation, so if I ask you to build it, it's already sold and the construction cost has been figured into the selling price."
I thought it was an interesting project and would probably only amount to a few houses a month, so I signed on. I knew that the green technology was the way to go, and I'd been making myself and my builders smarter about it for the last year. I guess I needed to have Frank pick a builder to specialize in the technology and teach the rest of us.
When I agreed to do it, Mac jumped up and shook my hand.
"Alright! Lauren has a line on an architect that is supposed to be some sort of eco-guru. I'll get you two together when she starts."
Lauren was McManus's daughter and a VP in his family-run company.
I walked McManus all the way out to the main door. He put his hand on it to push it open, then stopped and gave me an embarrassed look.
"Uh, Josh, I don't want to presume on our budding friendship, but could I ask you for a small favor?"
I shrugged and said, "Sure."
"I'm having a birthday party for my wife at my place this Saturday and I'd like you to be there to sort of act as my sister's escort. She just went through a rough divorce, and I know you did as well, so you know what she's going through and maybe the two of you could lean on each other's shoulders..."
After he left, I began to wonder what Mac must have thought about how quickly I said okay to his party. I was the one slightly embarrassed now, but hey, Cousin Joi was a favor for a friend, and look how well that turned out. Besides, doing a client a personal favor is good business, I rationalized.
I was right on time arriving at Larry's MacMansion. The house was large, but it was surprisingly inviting and comfortable. Larry met me at the door and immediately led me into the great room to introduce me to his sister, Carolyn Napier.
Carolyn was a redhead like her brother, and not as slender as the last few women I'd dated. She was built more like my sister Shelby, five-six, and one-thirty maybe. We stood and made conversation with Larry Mac until Larry's wife Kate stole him to help her in the kitchen. As soon as Larry was out of earshot, Carolyn gave me a hard look.
"You can stop working so hard to impress me," she said angrily. "I'll kill my brother for this."
I leaned back in surprise at her vehemence.
"Kill him for what?" I asked.
"Don't play innocent with me. You know he hired you to be here with me tonight. Look at you, all tan and buff and ten years younger than me. Stevie Wonder could see you are some escort service gigolo. In real life, I'll bet you are gay and a male model."
I was tanned because I was outside quite a bit for work. As for being buff, I didn't consider myself that at all. I was fit, though, because I never lost the motivation I had as a Ranger to stay in shape. I wasn't a workout fanatic, but I ran four miles on the beach every other morning, and did my sit-up and push-ups.
All of that, I figured, was of no interest to Carolyn, and I wasn't about to embarrass her farther. It was time to go home, or at least to go somewhere else. Heck, I was always welcome at Maybelline's!
"Clearly this was a mistake, Missus Napier, and I apologize for making you so uncomfortable. Please give my regrets to your brother and Kate. I'll see myself out."
I was sitting on my balcony the next morning with a cup of coffee and my laptop, when my doorbell rang. I sat my laptop on the table beside my Adirondack chair and padded to the door barefoot. I'd run that morning and I wasn't expecting company, so I was wearing shorts and a ratty t-shirt after my shower.
By contrast, Carolyn Napier was standing in front of my door looking casually elegant in calf length white Capri's, sandals and a dark green silk blouse. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a French braid with a pair of expensive Maui Jim tortoise shell sunglasses on top of her head. Her hands were full with a cup carrier with two cups of coffee in one, and a bag from Duncan Donuts in the other.
She smiled shyly when I opened the door, her lovely big blue eyes pensive as she pushed the bag of pastries into my hand.
"Good morning Mister Joshua Fuller, the engineer and construction company owner, I'm Larry McManus's idiot sister Carolyn. Can we start all over?"
I grinned and shook my head.
"That depends. How do I know you're not some high priced hooker out drumming up business?"
She laughed gaily and pushed past me into my tiny foyer.
"I'd be offended, except you said high priced," she said as we stepped into the open-plan kitchen and living room.
"Wow, this place is very clean and neat for being a bachelor pad."
It took a lot of courage for her to come around this morning and apologize to me, and the idea she thought it was necessary spoke volumes about her character. So I teased her some more to help her relax.
"Yeah, I make all my gigolo customers tidy it up for me," I said with a big leer.
We sat at the two stool breakfast bar with our coffee and pastries, because the sun made her freckle. She apologized profusely for the way she acted the night before and I told her to forget it, I was flattered in a way. We laughed and talked like old friends, our connection and attraction immediate.
Carolyn was an Orthodontist with her own practice, her dental office spoils from her divorce from her husband of ten years and former partner in the practice. Ironically, her divorce became final on the same day as mine; hers after a nasty six month tooth and nail fight for her share of everything they jointly owned. Carolyn was also my neighbor, she and her seven-year-old daughter having just moved into a new townhouse a couple of blocks away on the other side of the coastal highway.
I don't know how she and I transitioned from the breakfast bar to naked in my king-sized bed, but neither of us was sorry it happened.
Carolyn Napier wasn't a toned hard body like Amber, or a naturally slender model like Joi. Instead, she was a healthy mature woman of thirty-five. Her body sported a few extra pounds and bore some of the ravages of childbirth, but she was surprisingly well put together and had marvelous peaches and cream skin. I especially liked her large and natural breast with their slight sag and very sensitive nipples.
Carolyn was also extremely responsive to whatever I was doing as I practiced on her some of what I'd learned from Joi. Making her feel so good made the sex even better for me.
Afterward, we basked in the afterglow. Carolyn curled up cutely against my side with her head on my shoulder, as she idly twiddled the sparse hair on my chest. I was lying on my back with a beach towel under me to cover a big wet spot.
"You could have been, you know," she said softly.
"Could have been what?"
"A gigolo. I thought sex like that only existed in fiction. Before today, I'd never gotten off so easily, or had multiple orgasms like that."
I turned my head and kissed her on the forehead.
"I'll keep that in mind if business gets bad, but I'll probably have to find a new place to entertain my customers. You were so loud my neighbors will probably ask me to move."
She laughed and gave my nipple a playful twist.
"You loved it; it must be good for your ego to make some fat old broad scream like that. That's something else that's new, by-the-way, along with that bed wetting thing."
"You're not old or fat, but for everything else, I'm guilty as charged."
We showered and went to a beachside pub for lunch. After lunch, we walked on the beach for a while as gathering rain clouds tempered the bright sun, then we went up to my condo for round two. Carolyn ended up spending the weekend with me, as it was her daughter's weekend with her dad.
In the middle of the second week of February, late in the morning, I finally received a call from my PI, Phil Trent. Phil had been on the case of finding out about Blakemore's drug involvement for six weeks now, and was into me for fifteen grand. For all that money, I'd received a phone call from him every Friday, during which he told me that the investigation was continuing.
"Josh, I just spent the morning meeting with an old friend of mine from the DEA. I turned over the results of my investigation to him, because we came up against information that I was duty-bound to report. What I discovered is now part of a larger ongoing investigation that I can't say anything about. I can't go into specifics, but your friend's doings aren't going to be swept under the rug.
"With the Feds on the case, I don't need to be, so I'll refund you any monies I didn't use. When the dust settles on this, we'll sit down over a beer and talk about it. Until then, you need to keep what you know or suspect to yourself, okay?"
I guessed it had to be kept confidential, and I also guessed that it was going to be a strain on my patience, sitting and waiting for something to happen.
I dated Carolyn Napier casually for a few months, mostly on the weekends her ex had their daughter. Except in the bedroom, we were never that serious. Carolyn liked her men older and more settled than me, and like Amber was for me, I was her rebound lover. We parted as friends though, and that was a big thing to both of us.
Time kept passing, days turned to weeks, and suddenly it was only a few weeks until Easter. I was sitting in my office, fitting together a schedule for April that would allow me three or four days in North Carolina to check on Hawk's log cabin, when my cell phone chirped. I checked the caller ID and was mildly surprised when the display read 'DJ'. I hadn't spoken to her since Christmas.
"Hello, Deej, this is an unexpected pleasure," I said in greeting.
"Yeah, it's been too long," she agreed.
We exchanged some pleasantries, I asked her about school, and she asked me about work; each of us consciously avoiding our personal lives. After a couple of minutes, she told me why she called.
"So Josh, the ballet is next weekend. Would it be tacky if I wore the same black dress I wore the last time?"
"Nah, you look great in that dress, Nate will love it," I replied.
"Why would what Nate thought matter, he's not going with us," she said perplexedly.
"Huh," I replied, ever the dullard.
"I'm going to the ballet with you, not Nate," she explained.
Then she told me what to wear and when to pick her up, as if this was something we'd planned months ago.
After she rang off, I looked at the phone for a few seconds, then went out and talked to Mitzi.
"Mitz, Dakota just called me and said I was taking her to the ballet. Did she break up with Nate?"
Mitzi laughed.
"Nate only lasted a month, then it was James for three weeks, and Stu for a month. I think my daughter likes playing the field. Kinda like you, come to think of it."
"Oh," I said brightly, I didn't know what to think about that.
Taking Dakota to the Ballet was like old times. I thoroughly enjoyed being with her. I was more attentive to her this time, and made a better effort of concentrating on the ballet.
When I walked her to the door, I told her I'd missed her and our friendship. She stood on her tip toes and bussed me on the lips.
"Your fault Joshua, you know where I live."
You know what disappointed me the most about the evening? Not once did she call me Fuller.
I thought about Dakota a lot the next few weeks, but I didn't call or visit her, because Mitzi said she was dating some guy named Brian. I stayed out of Dakota's way, because I didn't want our friendship to intrude on her relationship with this Brian guy.
It was only after I returned from visiting Hawk's place in North Carolina, that it dawned on me that I had feelings for Dakota that went way past friendship. That realization caused me some major emotional turmoil. Dakota was still technically a teenager, regardless how mature she was and twelve years younger than me. She was also the daughter of one of my very best friends, a friend who was also important part of my business. In the end, I kept my feelings to myself and concentrated on work.
It helped that we started construction on three eco-friendly model homes for Larry Mac's Winding Creek Preserve. I was involved in the construction and planning to the point of even orienting the houses on the lots. I had the front of the houses facing north, so the passive solar hot water heating systems on their roofs were exposed to the southern sun all day, every day. I selectively cleared the lots, leaving as many hardwood trees as possible. Pine trees I had cut and sold for pulp wood. For every pine we cut, Weyerhaeuser, the forestry company that bought the wood, planted two in a fire ravaged corner of the development.
We were using cutting-edge technology on the models, and as many recycled materials as we could lay our hands on. Mitzi and her group were taking advantage of every federal and state rebate or subsidy they could find, so in some instances, the recycled products were actually cheaper. Even the manufacturers of the materials were involved by either discounting their material to keep us buying, or sending us factory reps to bring us up to speed on how to best use their product. Building a 'green' home added a few weeks to our construction schedule, but I simply adjusted my scheduling program for seventeen weeks instead of fourteen and we drove on.
Suddenly, the date of Lindsey and my anniversary arrived. The event had much less emotional impact on me than I thought it would. Sure, I had pangs of regret by what could have been, but with every passing day, I became surer that Lindsey's kicking me to the curb was actually the best thing she could have done for me. Our relationship had been so flawed and wrong, even Doctor Phil would have run screaming from it.
A few weeks after that ugly anniversary, I gave up on trying to force Dakota Morrison out of my mind. Besides, she was no longer a teen, having turned twenty a few days ago. I walked over to Mitzi's office and asked her to take a ride with me. I drove to the Dairy Queen, and sitting on an umbrella shaded picnic table slurping on an Oreo Blizzard, I professed my feelings for her daughter. Instead of the negative reaction that I'd steeled my self for, Mitzi just smiled and patted my hand.
"That's great, Josh, but aren't you telling all this to the wrong Morrison woman?"
At seven o'clock that evening, I pulled up behind the well used Jeep Wrangler that sat in the driveway of the modest Cape Cod house on Peninsula Drive so I could tell the right one. I took a deep calming breath and hopped out of my truck.
Mitzi answered the door when I rang the bell. She smiled at me encouragingly and kissed me on the cheek as I stood there nervously.
"She's up in her room studying, go on up."
I nodded and bounded up the stairs two at a time. Her bedroom door was open, and she was standing at her chalkboards, a sheaf of papers in her right hand, and a piece of chalk in her left. She was busily scribbling numbers on the board, moving left to right, not by sidestepping, but by twisting first on her toes and then her heels. I cleared my throat and she spun around.
She was barefooted and wearing my old AC/DC t-shirt over a pair of well worn blue pajama pants with pictures of Mister Potato Head on them. Her unruly brown hair was held behind her head in a scrunchied ponytail. Her only makeup was a smear of chalk on her left cheek. Yet, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Dakota looked at me standing there like an idiot; a dozen red roses clutched in my paw, and arched her left eyebrow.
"You finally figure it out, Fuller?" she asked.
I nodded my head. It was the first time she'd called me Fuller in months.
"I love you DJ," I said, my speech all rehearsed. "I am not asking you to choose between me and Brian; I just wanted you to know how I feel. I can wait till you are ready."
She smiled, clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and shook her head, as if in disbelief.
"You are not so bright sometimes for being an engineer. Brian and the others are just guys I dated to give you something to think about while I waited for you to realize you loved me too."
Her casual revelation that she loved me turned my bones to jelly. I nodded again, still rooted to my spot in the doorway of her room.
"So what now?" I asked dazedly.
Her lips bowed up in that mischievous smile that made my heart pitter-pat.
"You come in here and kiss me, of course, then we pack me a bag and go to your place so you can relieve me of this pesky virginity."
There was more to my little genius's plan than that, but the rest of it was lost in the singing of my blood in my ears.
By the end of the weekend, we had taken care of Dakota's little virginity problem about twenty times. In between bouts of the sweetest lovemaking imaginable, we started moving her clothing and things into the condo. We talked all weekend about our future. I had not the slightest of doubts about wanting to spend the rest of my life with her, but I was worried that I was robbing her of her chance to be young. She told me what she thought about that in no uncertain terms.
"Listen up Fuller," she said as she sat astride me on my favorite balcony chair. "You need to get it through your head that your weird little girlfriend doesn't think like everyone else. College to me is about the learning, not the socializing. I am going to have fun, but I am going to have it with you. So here's what's going to happen..."
... And she laid it out for me, and I bobbed my head in agreement.
Ah, but I can hear you all now, as you groan about me once again letting a woman lead me around by the nose. To an extent you might be right, but listen, there was a gigantic difference between Dakota and Lindsey in that regard, because everything DJ said was something that ended up being best for me, it was also what I deep down wanted. We were so in tune with each other, it was almost scary.
Dakota was taking a few courses at State over the summer, with a plan to graduate in only three years, and she was already a research assistant in the university's highly regarded robotics lab. She soaked up information like a sponge, and had an uncanny ability in solving nettlesome problems. I ended up painting one entire wall of our bedroom with that green chalkboard paint so she could doddle to her hearts content as she worked out her solutions.
For all her focused genius, DJ was easy to live with. I am forever amazed at how she could just switch off her analytical mind and concentrate totally on me. Of course, it helped that I even found her little quirks endearingly cute. She stole my favorite shirts, she was unapologetically messy, she drove like a New York City cab driver, and she could only cook three things. But you know what? I could've cared less, because at least once a day, she would say, "I love you Fuller, and I always will," and that was enough for me.
To be fair I guess it also didn't hurt that Dakota was a seriously randy little math geek. How she held onto her virginity for so long was a miracle to me. She also loved sexy underwear. No matter what she wore, you could bet there was some seriously sexy little number under it. I had to laugh some mornings as she pulled up her loose fitting cargo shorts over a lacy t-back wondering if the other geeks at the robotic lab had the same fetish.
Thanks to Dakota, I was able to choke back my impatience waiting for the other shoe to drop with Blakemore. So it was almost a shock when out of the blue on a Wednesday morning in October, Phil Trent called me at work.
"Watch the news today, Josh," he said cryptically, "and you may see something of interest."
I went home early that day and was sitting in front of the television with the local twenty-four hour news station on, when Dakota came in from school. I told her what I was doing, so she plopped down on the couch next to me and spread her work out on the coffee table.
At four-thirty, the station segued into its 'breaking news as it happens' graphic, and a female reporter standing on the steps of the courthouse broke the news of the arrest of thirty people on charges of drug trafficking and money laundering. The arrest came after a year long investigation by a joint federal and state task force. Among those arrested were a police captain, the managers of two branch banks, and three lawyers from the firm of Crossman, Fielding and Blakemore.
"Shockingly, one of those lawyers was senior partner and well known civic icon, William Blakemore," the reporter said breathlessly.
Seeing Blakemore ruined and disgraced was not as personally satisfying as kicking off in his ass would have been, but it was a far harsher punishment than an ass whipping. From talking to Phil, I knew Blakemore might have eventually come to the attention of the DEA anyway, but my tip led to them planting a female agent in the firm and that greatly accelerated his downfall.
As fate would have it, two months after Blakemore's arrest, Dakota and I ended up sharing a table with Lindsey and her escort at the local bar association's awards banquet. Dakota and I were there because Amber Griffith was being recognized for her work with the Guardian ad Litem children's advocacy group. Amber and Dakota got along great and Amber was actually dating a grad student Dakota fixed her up with.
I was surprisingly unruffled by sitting one chair away from my ex. I guess Willie Nelson had it right when he wrote about the Healing Hands of Time. I couldn't resist bringing up Blakemore's arrest. I made it sound as if I was expressing sympathy for the ordeal it must have been for her, but in reality, I just wanted to hear her talk about her and the Golden Boy's misfortune, knowing that I helped cause it. Yeah, it was a petty thing to do ... so sue me.
"He was a criminal," she said with a shrug, "and he got what he deserved. Even though I couldn't be compelled, I cooperated with the authorities in the investigation, then I had our marriage annulled."
I nodded, not really knowing what else to say as I realized that Blakemore meant as little to her as I did. Then Lindsey changed everything about how I felt about her when she turned to Dakota and pointed at our engagement ring.
"I read about your engagement in the paper Miss Morrison, you couldn't have found a finer man or a better husband. That I divorced him had nothing to do with his character, it had to do with mine."
Then she laughed mirthlessly.
"Years ago, my shrink told me I was incapable of loving any one but me. My reply was 'who deserves it more?', and that's still true today..."
Later that night, as Dakota and I lay wrapped in each other's arms, my little sweetie commented on how sad and tragic it was that Lindsey would probably never know the feelings we were sharing right that minute, our hearts filled to bursting with love for each other.
Amazingly, I was thinking the same thing and incredibly, that's all I was thinking about Lindsey. I felt no love or longing, no sadness and not even any anger. All I felt for her was pity. In the end, wasn't that the sweetest revenge of all?
Gil Weaver and Mitzi Morrison eloped to Las Vegas shortly after the New Year, and were married by Elvis at the Chapel of Love on Fremont Street. Mitzi called her children after they'd done the deed, and gave them the news. After Dakota made a hurried conference call to her siblings, we all flew out to Vegas to crash their honeymoon.
Seven months later, and three days after Dakota's twenty-first birthday, she and I tied the knot. It was my idea to wait until after she turned twenty-one. It didn't matter to DJ, but I, at least, wanted my wife to be able to legally buy a drink without resorting to a fake ID and a plunging neckline. It was true that hard liquor had no effect on her but champagne sure did. A few glasses of the stuff and my little geekette was as effervescent as the bubbly she was drinking.
My honey wanted a big wedding with all the bells and whistles.
"I'm only doing this once, Fuller," she flatly stated. "So we need to do it up right."
So that's just what we did.
We were married outside the newly constructed Winding Creek Preserve Country Club. We stood under an arch of pink roses, beneath the wide-flung boughs of a pair of two-hundred year-old live oaks, as Judge Will Hawkins read us our vows.
The throng of guest sitting on either side of the white paper runner that formed the center aisle filled most of the three hundred chairs we had set up. On one side were all my friend and family, including some old buds from the Ranger regiment. My guests were in general older, well off and conservative since I knew most of them through business. I was happy that Dakota insisted on inviting Carolyn Napier and Joi Chang. My friends and family loved Dakota to the point where more than one of them reminded me that I wasn't nearly good enough for her.
By contrast, the bride's side of the aisle was populated with a boat load of her college friends and classmates. They were Dakota's kind of people; they were smart and fun loving in that nerdy way that I was beginning to appreciate. I knew a conspiracy was afoot when I noticed that all of them had dressed geekily. You know, too short trousers, mismatched socks, clashing colors and patterns, pocket protectors, the works.
Gil Weaver gave his newly acquired step-daughter away, and was probably the proudest papa in ten states. My very pregnant sister, Shelby Jane, was the matron of honor. Dallas Morrison was a bridesmaid, as were the Poon twins and Amber Griffith.
Lee Poon was my best man. Poor Lee was so nervous, I had to stay calm to keep him from fainting. Archer Paulson, my brother-in-law, was an usher, and so was Dakota's brother Todd. The other three ushers were some of Dakota's fellow EE students, including ex-boyfriends Nate and Brian. They were a good bunch of guys that I had become friends with over the last year.
Princesses in fairy tales were never as beautiful as Dakota in her wedding dress. When Gil placed her hand in mine, the look of adoration she gave me made that moment the defining one of my life.
After we said our wedding vows, Hawk turned us to face our guests and introduced us as Mister and Missus Joshua Thomas Fuller. Before we took our first step as husband and wife, Dakota reached up and whispered in my ear.
"Promise me you'll try to make every day of my life like today, and I'll promise the same to you."
I held her so I could look her in the eye.
"I promise," I said with all the surety I felt in my heart.
The reception was held inside the country club. Lee Poon had closed his restaurant for the day, so Mister Kang and company could prepare the reception meal. I'm betting there weren't many wedding receptions with everything from pork lo mien to Peking duck on the menu. It made my day that my friends and Dakota's mingled and got along famously.
After a week-long honeymoon sequestered in Hawks log cabin in North Carolina, Dakota Jean Fuller and Joshua T. Fuller started the greatest marriage in the history of the universe...
As soon as I finished saying that last line, my five year old twin daughters sighed contentedly and snuggled sleepily against me on the couch. It was their favorite bed time story that I only told them on Sunday nights to help them wind down from their weekend.
I glanced up towards my wife as she stood on the other side of the breakfast bar, soldering a chip socket into the brain of her team's latest robot. She was wearing one of my Fuller Group polo shirts and a pair of yellow silk boxers with a big smiley face on the butt she'd stolen out of my drawer. Her unruly hair was haphazardly tied back with a polka dot scrunchie. To me, she was still just as beautiful as she was on our wedding day.
Oh yeah, she was now Doctor Dakota Fuller, PhD, Assistant Professor of Electrical Engineering at State U and a widely recognized expert in robotics and bio-mechanical engineering.
DJ looked up, sensing my eyes on her, and gave me a smile.
"I love that story almost as much as Rachael and Rebecca," she said sweetly.
I nodded my head in agreement. I loved the story too, because it
went from a sad start to a life long happy ending for that lucky dog,
me...