Kindly Old Gus

You walked out of the shower. Your remnant was still uncaged and free after the custom-built cage was cut off. You dried off, and the only spot you couldn't rub the sweet smelling lotion into was covered by your ankle monitor. It was a constant reminder that you were a scofflaw. You put on your sheer, short robe.

Gus was on the couch in his terry clothed robe, watching TV. He muted it when you came in.

"How are you doing, Dani?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Fine, Mr. Gus," you said, getting out the orange juice and pouring yourself a glass.

"You know, I think part of your problem is focus," he said.

"What do you mean, Mr. Gus?"

"Well, think about it. You got this girl here that loves you to **** ... just not that way anymore. You've got that boss of yours, Jackson, and Kase that you've been fuckin' around with. You got that white supremacist you've been servicing," he raised his hand. "Amanda told me, I ain't judging. Look at all the bad choices I made in my life, you dig? And you got those frat boys you fuckin' around with too. All that action for one Dani. You need to focus up more, and maybe focus more on what you want and less on makin' everybody happy."

You thought about that for a long moment. It wasn't bad advice.

"Thanks Mr. Gus."

"You're welcome. Amanda left you a BLT in the fridge."