Then she returned to the bar and picked up the second glass, holding it toward me. "You sure you don't want a drink?" I'm sure," I said with a dismiss...ve wave. "I just want some answers." You'll get better answers if you don't treat this as an interrogation." Fine." I gestured for her to bring me the martini.Instead of handing it to me, she set it on the table next to me. She smiled as she leaned over, and I forced myself to not look down her cleavage. At least not for more than a quick. I don't mean to make it sound like some kind of hippy dippy nirvana, though. We fought. We had disagreements. By god the woman had a temper on her – when she was royally pissed she could make every room Siberia. She had a wicked sense of sarcasm that could really cut right to your core, and when she was really angry, she'd do it right in front of other people, where my only recourse was either to retreat and look wimpy or have a knock-down drag-out cat fight in front of our friends.I tried both. More

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