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Friday, August 21, 2015

F3 Slice of Pie

            I struggled to focus on not letting my mind wander, but business was slow. Check that, business was dead. Jen sat in her office typing away at some old case files, but I had nothing to do. I had surfed the web numerous times, avoided Nikki’s calls, and made an attempt to read up on the mythology of gremlins.
            I still sat with the book open on my lap, my feet propped on the desk.
            That’s the proper way for a PI to sit at his desk. What I wouldn’t give for the old days. . . .
            It was thirty minutes after 6:17. Time was up. My pizza would be free. I smirked at the ad on my desk, ready to present the proof that would send the delivery boy crying for his momma. But instead of the boy, the door banged open to reveal a leggy dame. Her dress hugged her as tight as a boa constrictor, and she made a deep sigh that jiggled the upstairs in a delightful fashion as she walked into my office.
            “You’re not the slice of pie I was expecting,” I smirked.
            I let my eyes dance their way over her, appreciating the way the dark grey dress moved with her, and the way her light grey hair contrasted with her grey eyes. Everything was some kind of grey because that’s how PIs have their daydreams.
            “Oh, I hope you weren’t expecting apple,” she said coyly. “That’s too wholesome for me. I’m into something sinful, like chocolate cream.”
            “Sausage and mushroom, actually. What can I do you for, doll?”
            “I need protection. A man is trying to kill me.” She sat on my desk, slowly removing her gloves.
            “It ain’t right to do that to a dame as classy as you. But can you afford my fee?”
            For answer she tossed down a clutch of C notes. “If you protect me, I might even be able to let you have a taste of pie,” she smiled.
            “What if I want a sample, now?”
            She leaned forward, wrapping fingers around my tie, pursing her lips . . .

            “Hey, Matt!” Jen called from her office. “Is it okay to clock out early? I have a test to study for.”
            “Sure thing, Jen.”
            I sighed after she left, trying, once again, to read about the gremlins.

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