But call me Esme.”“£100 for the necklace” Even business-like, her voice sounded seductive.“And for the box ... a kiss,” she finished.“Par...on?” I asked. Surely, I had misheard her.“£100 for the necklace and a kiss for the box.”I just stood there, the gears in my head slowly processing what I was hearing. Taking my silence as an invitation, Esme leaned over the counter toward me, and my eyes dropped to her cleavage, which was now even more outrageous, being pressed together by her arms. I could. Marie tried to recall how many children there were, and if he'd been one of them, but that would have been news for an older generation and she didn't know.Someone honked a car horn on the street below and Marie started guiltily. She carefully placed the statement and the letter back on the pile and shuffled out of the room. As she eased the door closed, Marie half expected to turn and find him standing before her, silently watching her digging her own grave through curiosity. But she was just. More

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