Richard Blaine looked up from the table and shook his head. ?Come on Freddie,? he said. ?You know I never drink with customers.?Freddie looked apologe...ic. ?Sorry,? he said. ?I guess you’ve got other things on your mind right now, too.??Haven’t we all?? Rick nodded towards the open door of the caf?. Outside the streets were quiet except for the not so distant thump of German artillery. The sound of the shell fire was louder, closer, than it had been that morning. Clegg looked down at the milky. If she had make-up on, it was either done to perfection or she had the smoothest skin I had ever seen. I already mentioned her height, she was barefoot and towered over me by six or seven inches. I usually considered myself somewhat tall at five-foot-seven, well except for that plane trip that found me sitting amongst a Women’s National Basketball Association (WNBA) team. She wasn’t a basketball player, she was closer to looking like one of the American Gladiators from that old television. More

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