Chapter 8
For a man who’d just punched one of the most brutal gangsters in London, Max looked pretty cool. He wore a blue shirt, a mid-gray striped jacket and dark pants. He was newly shaven and carried a hint of cologne. She’d gone down the stairs to meet him at the street door rather than let him in to see her humble home. She’d chosen to wear a wrap front midi dress in navy metallic with silver-heeled strappy sandals.
“Hey, do you know a girl called Paula who lives here? She’s beautiful, but she’s not in your league.”
“She got held up at work so I said I’d stand in.”
“She was cute, but you’re breathtaking. When you see her, just don’t mention I said anything.”
She wanted at least to kiss his cheek. He put his hand to the small of her back and guided her toward the Rolls Royce which
