Her heels made a satisfying click-click-clickon the steps down to the sidewalk, where a late evening breeze caught her skirt and swirled it around her thighs. She felt like Marilyn Monroe as she pushed down the skirt with a laugh. Then she caught sight of Eric’s car turning into a space in front of her apartment building, and she waved.
Eric was in the passenger seat; Jenny recognized the driver beside him as Mike from the photos on Eric’s desk. When the car stopped, Eric opened the door and jumped out, a black silk cape billowing out around him. “Dah-link!” he cried in a fake accent.