which she wore no pantyhose. Manolo Blahnik slingbacks on her feet, she strode into my office, bypassing Dottie in the reception area, her shoes making a rhythmic click-clack on the wood floor. She threw open the door and flew into my arms, grabbing me in a giant bear hug.
“I missed you!” she screamed, throwing her purse onto one of my guest chairs. She kissed my cheek.
I was as happy to see her as I had ever been in my life. I held her close. “Max.” I felt tears spring to my eyes; the absence of any close family relations in my life made her dearer to me than anyone. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
She flung herself into a chair and threw her legs over the side, the posture she always assumed when she visited me in my office. “Sounds like you’ve had a hell of a time since the wedding. How’s the gunshot wound?” she asked.
“Healed,” I said. “I’ve got a scar but the doctor said it would fade.”
“So much for sleeveless blouses,” she said, smiling sadly. “Fred’s downstairs. Do you want to have dinner?” she asked. “We’re going over to City Island for oysters.” She smiled slyly. “You have to admit. A man who eats raw oysters shows a lot of promise as a lover, don’t you think?” She let out a throaty chortle.
“If you say so,” I said. I started to make the connection in my head but stopped. “Sure. I’d love to have dinner,” I said, pushing a file of papers to the side of my desk. “These can wait.” I stood, pulling my briefcase off the floor. I looked out the tall windows that faced the back courtyard of the building and spied Crawford jogging down the steep steps that led to the back door. He looked like he had just come from work, wearing his usual uniform of dress pants, shirt, tie, and blazer.
Max saw him, too. “Let’s take a rain check.” She stood and grabbed her purse. “Seems our friend, the trusty Detective Hot Pants, might have had the same idea.” She hugged me again and gave me another kiss, whispering in my ear, “Remember what I said about raw oysters.” She left my office and, judging from the muffled voices out in the main office area, ran into Crawford on the way out. I heard her tell him that they would get together the following week to have dinner, if he was free. I couldn’t hear his answer.
The sight of him in my office door was even better than the sight of Max, but several days had passed since the head-kiss incident and it seemed like we had to reacquaint ourselves with each other. He shuffled a little awkwardly from one foot to the other, his hands in his pockets, looking at me. Finally, he stepped all the way in and gave me a tentative kiss on the cheek. Better than a head kiss, but not much.
“Hiya, Crawford,” I said.
“How are you?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m good.”
“I have that information on the license plate number,” he said. RoboCop was back.
I kicked the door to my office closed with my foot and decided to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed his belt and pulled him close, planting a long, wet kiss on his lips. “Don’t ever kiss my head again,” I whispered.
He laughed. “Oh, that.”
“You can explain later,” I said, kissing him again.
He took my hand and interlaced my fingers in his. “Let’s start over, okay?”
He wouldn’t get any argument from me.
“Hi, I’m Jerry.” He reached over and shook my free hand.
“Candy.”
“What do you do, Candy?”
“I’m a stripper.”
“Perfect,” he said. “I’m a buffer.” He laughed. “I think that makes us perfectly compatible.” His hands found my bare skin beneath my blouse; suffice it to say that I had never been felt up in my office. I was hoping that Sister Calista didn’t take this opportunity to drop off her syllabi. “Are you free for dinner?” he asked.
“I am,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “How do you feel about oysters?”
I feel very good about oysters.
We set out for City Island, a quaint village in the Bronx situated on the Long Island Sound, arriving just as the sun was setting.
At this time of the year, most of the restaurants, which closed after the high season, were still open, and Crawford knew of a small place on the water that he said was one of his favorites. He