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You grab the blonde's hand just as you let go. She recoils hastily. You manage to keep control and not shout out in ecstasy but you can feel your face reddening.

Riordan hasn't seemed to notice. He leans forward and picks up the still hot cigarette that the blonde had left in your ashtray and stubs it out. 'You do that,' he smiles. Then, he turns and walks out of the door. You hear the waiting room door slam as he leaves. 

You sigh in relief and let the blonde out from under your desk. Somehow she's managed to put her dress on without being heard. She gives you a look of utter disgust. There are splashes of white not only on her hand, but in a trail from the front of her black dress all the way up to those pretty blonde curls.

'You're a pig,' she says as she pulls out a handkerchief and wipes away most of the splashes. It doesn't work very well.

'And you forgot to mention that this little job of yours involves messing with Marty Riordan.'

'Well you don't have to worry about that any more,' she says. She picks up her mink and walks coolly away. You hate to see her leave, but with the way she sways her hips, you can't help but love watching her go.

Now you can get back to what you were doing: drinking and sulking, and waiting for a more profitable case. 

So much for that knock-out blonde. 






(Not quite) The End (Still adding to the plot)