“The sculptor ,” he says, and I snicker. “Yeah that’s him.” “Chanel, that guy was a fucking tool,” Ethan says, I laugh. “And clearly...he’s as dumb as a box of fuckin rocks. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” His words make me blush slightly and I shake my head. “Shut up, Ethan.” “I’m serious,” he says, squeezing my hip to emphasize his certainty. “Did you forget to include yourself in that category?” I question jokingly, but immediately regret it. I move my head to look up at him with a. ." Jean suddenly realized that Hank might have found an alternate site to consume dinner, too..."Martin?" Hello, Jean. Is there a problem?" No, but Rick is going to Teela's, so I thought I'd better check on Hank," Jean replied."He's upstairs -- with Maddie," Martin related. "One moment." He went up the stairs and down the hall to Hank's room and knocked on the door. "Hank?"There was a quiet feminine shriek, followed by a careful, "Yes, Dad?" Jean wants to know if you'll be present for. More

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