The cold metal barrel of my Glock was hard against the small of my back, where it was stuck in my waistband. She knew I had it, I always did, and she knew I'd use it, I usually did. I tried to open the driver's car door, it was locked. I slowly put the key in and turned the lock, my hand slowly opened the door, I wouldn't put it pass her to blow us both up for spite. As I stepped in, her perfume enveloped me, I missed that fragrance, and the feelings that came with it.
"So, come here often?" I ask in my best tough guy voice.
"I would really like some bacon and eggs." she said without eye contact.
Bacon, I thought, damn, I forgot bacon with my eggs. "If you want a meal, you better hurry before the rush starts."
She looked at me, a shy smile across her lips, "I forgot your stupid, dumb-as-a-rock humor. Let's go, we can talk inside."
Ambrose looked funny at me as we walked to a booth in the back. "Same as I had, Ambrose, except add some bacon."
She said, "I need to freshen up." Ambrose pointed to the other end of the diner. As she walked away from us, Ambrose smiled and said, "Wow, she is gorgeous, you sure work fast."
"An old fiend." I said.
"You mean an old friend?"
"No, fiend, she took the 'our' out of friend a long time ago."
2 comments:
More, please.
I'm thinking Raymond Chandler here. . . but I have to fess up to reading the last one first, but then I skipped down and started at the beginning.
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