Chapter Ten
May Belle Livingston rotated through the high rise building’s revolving door owned by Roy Chambers and nodded to the security guard. She strutted to the elevator, jumped in, punched up, got out on floor seven, made a beeline to her apartment, unlocked, and stepped inside the door. May Belle’s short, short miniskirt shuffled under her long fur coat, causing the goose bumps on her legs to yawn and her large golden earrings to dangle and swirl. She scuffed off her shoes. The snow had faltered, hadn’t stopped, but it coated the sidewalks. With the man waiting, why she insisted on wearing fashion instead of warmth to the scheduled appointment challenged her intelligence.
But that was hours ago.
May Belle moved to the refrigerator, popped the top on a Coors Light, guzzled it empty
