Sean's Apartment

“I’m eating a bowl of ice cream,” Sean said, walking ahead of Jen. “Would you like some?”

“No, thank you.”

He turned to look at her. She hadn’t moved from the door, but hadn’t leaned on it either, her regal bearing still intact. He wondered what lucky wind blew her to his front door tonight. The magic of the auction and of that dance still lingered in his mind.

Now, an hour past midnight, Jennifer showed up at his door, looking more beautiful than a woman deserved to look. He sighed. “Come in. I won’t bite,” he assured her. “Besides, you’ve got quite a jab there.”

He absentmindedly rubbed the spot she punched. She’d taken him off guard.

“I may have some evidence we need,” she explained, sounding mysterious. She began to reach into her purse when Sean stopped her with a question.

“Do you like ice cream?”

She stood with her hand poised over her designer purse. Her jaw worked for a moment. “Yes, but—”

“Then why don’t you join me?”