Fortunately, I don’t need the damn money. That’s moot.
But more to the point: Where the hell’s the thrill in private security? The satisfaction?
What’d be the equivalent of what I’m doing now?
Heading up Task Force Operation Poolhouse Clogged Toilet?
“Ma’am, the sign clearly states that no personal sanitary items are to be flushed. I’m afraid we’re going to have to write you a ticket on this one.”
He snorted as the elevator made a ding, stopped, and the doors parted on the twenty-first floor.
Then again, Marshal Earp, no one would be shooting at you.
And you’re not exactly going gangbusters with collaring the doers in Op Clean Sweep.
As he put the key in 2180’s heavy brass deadbolt lock, Matt could hear Luna softly whining on the other side of the door. Her wagging tail was thumping against the door.
Having her so happy to see me is a nice welcome after a long lousy day.
Now I only hope that I can get Amanda to wag her lovely tail, too.
When he turned the knob and pushed the door inward, Luna stuck her black nose and curly-haired muzzle around its edge. Matt reached down to scratch her head as he opened the door.
“Good girl,” he said. “Now take me to your gorgeous master.”
As he stepped inside the doorway, Matt heard Amanda’s sultry voice: “She already has.”
He looked up from Luna and saw Amanda standing there. She was barefoot, but wearing a stunning gold sequined cocktail dress. It clung flawlessly to her well-toned body, as if it was almost a second skin. And it shimmered miraculously. The front was cut low and wide, generously enough to show a great deal of incredible suntanned cleavage while not revealing more than a sexy suggestion of her marvelous bosom. Her thick wavy blond hair, hanging free and full, was silky and luminous.
Wow! Payne thought. The goddess glows!
She looks so full of life, her eyes so warm and inviting.
And that dress! It radiates like a sea at sunset.
Sorry, Luna. Your greeting just got bested.
Far, far and away…
And he saw that Amanda-Perhaps even better, though it’d be the absolute last damn thing I’d ever admit to-was holding a cocktail napkin wrapped around a squat, heavy crystal glass that was dark with what had to be an intoxicant.
“Glad you could make it,” she said, her tone warm, genuinely meaning it. “I was beginning to worry.”
As she turned her head slightly to the right, offering her left cheek, Matt said, “Sorry, baby, crazy day,” and kissed her affectionately.
She held out the glass and flashed her dazzling smile.
“Macallan Eighteen, half water, two ice cubes.”
He took it and grinned. “You not only have an incredible mind, but also a very dangerous memory.”
She smiled again. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.”
“That said, you’re not only an angel but a lifesaver. I’ve been longing for one of these all day.”
As he took a big sip, she reached for his other hand and tugged him toward the interior of the condominium.
“Come on and sit down. Relax.”
With Luna leading the way, they went into the living room and sat on the big, soft, black leather couch. It faced the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the lights of the city twinkled far into the distance. From the high-fidelity digital music player that Matt had bought Amanda when she started spending so much time at home came the soft, soothing voice of Diana Krall singing “Besame Mucho.”
Matt looked at Amanda, thought, Kiss me much, indeed-then leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek again.
She smiled almost shyly.
He sat back and suddenly said, “You’re not having anything?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear and glancing back toward the kitchen.
She pushed herself up off the couch and said, “I’ll be right back.”
“How was your day, baby?” Payne asked as she went.
Amanda called back, “Interesting. Thanks for asking. I was going to tell you about it. But first enjoy your drink.”
Uh-oh.
Was that a red flag, or maybe a yellow caution one, that just went up?
Matt watched over his shoulder as she disappeared into the kitchen. As he looked back at the lights outside, he could hear the sounds of her getting something out of the refrigerator and unwrapping it.
Oh, shit. She’s had food prepared.
So she was waiting for me to reply when I sent that text.
But I was up to my ass in alligators…
Then that made him think: Surreal.
Four dead just three blocks from here.
Absolutely surreal…
He heard the soft padding sound of bare feet approaching.
“Here you go, sweetie,” Amanda said, putting an enormous platter of antipasto on the low marble table in front of the couch. Her other hand held a crystal stem, its huge goblet full of red wine. “I thought we could do this instead of any dinner.”
“It looks marvelous. I love it. Thank you.”
He reached down and grabbed a giant black olive and wrapped it in a large, thin slice of salami, then shoved the whole thing in his mouth. He chewed, nodding appreciatively at her, his eyes following her as she dropped back onto the couch.
She scooted closer beside him, holding her wineglass up and then tucking her bare feet under her golden- sequined fanny.
Just beautiful, he thought. And so damn sexy.
He touched his glass to hers, and said, “Cheers!”
He then watched as she reached to the table and picked up a salad fork.
She attempted to delicately spear a prosciutto-wrapped rectangle of cantaloupe. Twice. On the third attempt, made very slowly, she hit her target. She chewed the morsel and followed it with a very generous gulp of her wine.
Over the top of her glass, she made eye contact with him. When she’d swallowed the wine, she smiled.
My God, she truly is a goddess.
But why do I suspect that may not be her first glass of vino?
Or her second?
And that is a huge glass…
Matt drained the rest of his eighteen-year-old single-malt.
“I’ll make you another, sweetie,” she said, immediately kicking her feet out from under her.
He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead to keep her seated.
“You stay. You’ve already made all this. I can pour my drink. Think I’ll move on to the cheap stuff.”
He walked over to the wet bar. He filled his glass with ice cubes, then poured a hefty double of Jameson’s Irish whiskey. He looked over to the couch. Luna now had her head in Amanda’s lap as Amanda absently petted her and looked out the window while sipping more wine.
This is certainly getting interesting.
She’s clearly in thought about something.
And damn near in her cups.
He caught himself suddenly yawning.
Oh, shit. Hope I don’t fall asleep. That will really ruin the mood.
And leave it to me to really piss her off.
“I don’t see you forever and the few minutes you’re here, you fall asleep!”
