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“It’s not a social call, Lieutenant Ramm.” the stunning, honey-colored blonde girl snapped, her pale-blue eyes crisp and leveled on his pleasantly surprised, aquiline features. A young policewoman closed the door behind Anne and the blonde girl stood firmly planted in the center of the dingy dirty-windowed office, glaring at the tall, gaunt young man folded into the too-large chair behind a cluttered and scarred desk.
“That’s acting Lieutenant, Mrs. Ramm,” he reminded his estranged young wife, his shy, good-looking face unable to deny its pleased grin as he arose to his feet, setting his pipe in the ashtray. His discerning gray eyes swept quickly over her softly rounded curves which the smart, short-skirted nurse-uniform enhanced to perfection. She was radiant in white. . . the way he remembered her more and more these days.
“I’m here to arrive at an understanding, nothing more,” she clipped, but at the same time noticing particularly the way his Adam’s apple moved up and down when he spoke, the loosened knot in his black knit tie and the frayed collar of the shirt he wore. He’d fallen right back into his old careless routine without her to look after him… and that elbow-patched tweed jacket why hadn’t she thrown that away?
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.