There he was, standing in the lobby of the Hacienda Hotel and Spa, the man I had been talking to for more than three months, Eddy the Realtor (not his real name). A strong, beautiful man, originally from Calgary, with a winning smile, perfect Spanish and a crushing handshake.
“Owwwwww,” I said as he let go of my withered limb. My wife Michelle blushed with delight as he took hers and gently kissed it.
“Isn’t he nice?” she said while I nursed my hand.
So there we were, off in his car on our new adventure in the early . . .
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