Sure I have a nice car, and I happen to have done pretty well in the Corps, but aside from that? Nadda. No house, no wife, no kids, no side hustle, no...backup plan.I sit up groggily in the shitty cot my step-dad set up for me in the garage, smirking as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, thank god we live in Miami, eh?My few meagre belongings were tucked under a military-esque pop up cot, squared away in my patrol bag, a few more in the trunk of my 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 302. Even in the dim light. ‘But you don’t drink coffee.’ Andrew stepped through the doorway and wrapped his arms around me in our familiar friendly greeting. ‘Good morning, Julie. I see you’re as beautiful as ever.’ A soft kiss on the cheek, which I returned, and then he stepped away. ‘Oh, and mine’s hot chocolate. Where should I put it?’ ‘In the breakfast nook. I’ll get plates and cups.’ ‘The drinks are already in cups.’ ‘You know I hate those paper things. They make the coffee taste funny. You can drink your chocolate. More

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