*************** ADULTS ONLY ***************
The Loveable Ladies of Libido Lane
(C) by Erotin Thraller
*********************************************

Chapter 22 - Armed Robbery

Insurance is Henry's business.  For the past ten years he has 
been an agent at an independent office which is located downtown.  
While the agency handles the policies for a large number of 
nationally known companies, their clientele is quite varied.  
Henry takes great pride in his ability to provide efficient, 
personal service, regardless of the importance of the property or 
the people.  

Many times he has thought it would be nice to have his own 
agency, but that involves so many difficult details and such a 
large investment of time and money that it remains simply an 
unattainable dream.  Maybe he's just not aggressive enough.  
Maybe he worries too much.  Maybe he's simply not willing to take 
the plunge into the problems of being his own boss.  Maybe he's 
just plain lazy.  However you want to think about Henry, his wife 
has often maintained he is simply not a take-charge guy.  It has 
been understood between them that he will probably spend his 
entire life working for someone else.  It is, after all, quite 
comfortable being part of an established agency, allowing someone 
else to handle all the headaches of taxes and other legalities.  
His best ability is that he can sell, and he prefers to focus his 
attention what he's good at, not those other pesky details which 
would probably keep him for doing what he does best. 

A couple of months ago, however, he had to wonder if he was 
making the right decision.  The agency was sold.  The turnover 
came as a complete surprise.  Several of the other salesmen in 
the agency were quite bitter because they were not given the 
opportunity to make an offer.  If they had know the agency was 
for sale, perhaps they could have put together financing and made 
it an agent-owned business.  The problem was that they never had 
that opportunity.

The sale was apparently an inside deal, because the entire 
transaction was kept secret until after it was finalized.  The 
first clue the agents had was the day the boss walked in 
accompanied by a very dignified lady.  He introduced her as Ms 
Frost, the agency's new owner.  Furthermore, he added, she would 
begin immediately to manage the agency personally.

With that, the former owner was gone.  Actually, he just walked 
out, leaving the agents staring awkwardly at their new boss.  
Most of them, had major questions about what changes they might 
experience.  Did the new owner know anything about insurance?  Or 
their office procedures?  Could they get along with her?  Would 
anyone lose their jobs?  What would she be like personally?  Her 
name was not encouraging.  Almost immediately, they secretly 
envisioned her being called Frosty the Snow-Boss.  

Her appearance aided and abetted that ominous possibility.  She 
was dressed in a dark blue business suit with pinstripes, like a 
male wanna-be, except that her shoulder-length hair was light 
blonde, with just a hint of brown at the roots.  In contrast to 
the cut of her jacket, her straight skirt lacked at least two 
inches of reaching her knees.  That revealed a pair of very nice 
legs, accented by four-inch heels.  Under her blazer was a white 
blouse, plus a gold chain and large pendant, her only jewelry.  
She looked nice, very nice, certainly better than the previous 
owner with his unruly sideburns.

Ms Frost smiled stiffly, walked around the office inspecting the 
cubicles, calling each person by name.  Obviously, she had done 
her research and already knew who each person was.  In the next 
few minutes, she spent a bit of time with every agent, apparently 
linking names with faces.  Then she said to go on with business 
as usual.  Shortly after that, a moving truck arrived.  In due 
order, the previous owner's personal stuff was packed up and 
moved out, and Ms Frost's new desk was installed.  Through it 
all, she established herself as a no-nonsense manager.  Her few 
smiles were awkward, almost forced, and Henry had the distinct 
premonition that it would be easier to argue with an old bear 
than to work for her.  That evening when he explained to his wife 
what had happened, she simply smiled in her knowing way and said 
he would just have to deal with it.  All Henry could think was 
Thanks a lot.

Over the next few weeks, as the agents had opportunity to speak 
together confidentially, they found that the new owner-manager 
was a complete mystery.  She provided nothing by way of a resumé, 
nor did she offer any information like a get-acquainted speech.  
There was nothing about her on the internet.  One agent secretly 
arranged with a policeman friend to run a background check on 
her, but that turned up absolutely nothing.  Another tried to do 
a trace through the Post Office, but lacking a previous address 
that produced nothing.  Eventually, the agents simply caved in, 
realizing they were at her mercy ...accept her or leave.

Meanwhile, each morning, Ms Frost arrived promptly at the office 
looking much the same.  Apparently she had a large collection of 
suits, all of which were basically alike, with subtle color or 
fabric differences.  Only her blouses varied, sometimes bright or 
occasionally subdued.  And her heels were always at least three 
inches high.
 
One of the agents tried to spy on her, hoping to learn where she 
lived.  He failed.  When he reported back to the others, he said 
she walked down the street to the bus stop.  He watched her get 
on the bus, but even though he trailed the bus he never did see 
her get off. 

Another agent, a single fellow who had been in the office less 
than a year, tried to date her.  The others watched intently 
through the office window as he leaned over her desk.  They 
couldn't hear what he said, or what she told him.  Within a few 
seconds, he returned to his desk, cleaned out everything, and 
left without saying a word to any of the agents.  They were 
immediately intimidated.  Seeing him summarily fired just like 
that caused everyone to work especially hard, not only for the 
rest of that day but late every evening during the ensuing weeks.  
In fact, everyone began putting in many longer hours, just to 
make certain they could keep their jobs.   Even so, the boss 
never mentioned the firing.  In fact, she seldom talked to any of 
them except to assign new clients or to ask questions about a 
particular policy.  She was always strictly business.  The Frosty 
moniker was coming true.

Henry's wife did not understand.  She complained loudly and 
bitterly about all the hours Henry spent at work.  He tried to 
explain, but she would not listen to his reasons.   She said she 
was tired of his being held hostage by the job, but he secretly 
suspected that she wanted to find someone who could support her 
in the wealthy manner which matched her dreams.  He wish her good 
luck on that, and soon afterward she moved out.  Divorce papers 
followed a few days later.  As Henry told his fellow agents, I 
miss her, but not that much.

One night several weeks later, as Henry was finishing his meal at 
a restaurant near the agency, his cell phone rang.  It was Ms 
Frost asking him to return to the office.  She had just then 
scheduled an interview for him with a client early the next 
morning, and she wanted him to come pick up the file so he could 
prepare for the meeting.  This was something new, and it made 
Henry more than a little anxious.  Without question, however, he 
assured her he would come right away.

As he approached the office, he found most of the area businesses 
were already closed, so he ignored the parking garage and pulled 
up to the curb out front.  Actually, there was little for him to 
do inside except pick up the file, put it in his attaché case, 
and leave.  While promising to familiarize himself with it later 
at home, he and Ms Frost left the office together.  Back at his 
car, he stowed the case in the trunk.  Only then did he realize 
she was still standing beside him.  "Yes?" he asked.

"I really hesitate to appear paranoid," she smiled, "but quite 
frankly, this neighborhood is very unnerving after dark.  Do you 
suppose I could impose on you to walk with me to the bus stop 
down on the corner and wait there with me until the bus arrives?"

"Certainly, it will be my pleasure," he assured her, somewhat 
puzzled at her request, but aware there was no way he could 
afford to refuse.  "My car is right here," he said.  "If you 
would like, I could give you a ride.  There's no sense in your 
riding the bus unnecessarily."

"Oh, no.  I appreciate your offer, but it won't be necessary.  I 
don't mind riding the bus.  It takes me quite close to my home.  
I just need to have a bit of reassurance until I can get on."

Henry honored her request and walked with her to the bus stop.  
The street was, he had to admit, rather poorly lit and the 
darkness was intimidating.  There was no one else waiting at the 
bus stop.  Checking the schedule posted on the pole, he learned 
the bus was not due for at least another half hour.  

"This will never do," he objected.  "Are you sure you won't let 
me give you a ride?  You could be home before the bus even 
arrives here," he insisted.

"Oh, no.  I can't inconvenience you like that."  She actually 
smiled, but somehow he had the feeling there was something else 
afoot ...he just couldn't figure out what it was.  Her actions were 
far different from the typical behavior she had established at 
the office.  Or maybe, he thought, I still don't really know her.  
Perhaps she simply does not want me to know where she lives.  "I 
tell you what," she continued as she pointed down the street.  
"There's a little coffee shop only two doors down.  We can wait 
in there and watch for the bus to come."  She smiled,  "I'll buy 
you a latté."

He hesitated.  Then she added with yet a broader smile, "And a 
donut?"

"Oh, all right," Henry agreed.  Her demeanor was so different 
from the persona she projected in the office that he had to 
laugh.

She took his arm, which quite surprised him, then led him down 
the street.  Strange, he thought.  Our office is just up the 
street, and I've been working there all these years, but I've 
never seen a coffee shop here.  Maybe it's because I always use 
the parking garage behind the office, he decided as they entered 
the shop.  The place was indeed quite small.  There were three or 
four tables and a couple of booths.  One booth was by the only 
window, which was nearly covered over by posters advertising 
various coffee drinks.  They sat in the second booth, and there 
was one small opening uncovered by posters through which they 
could peek out to watch for the bus.  

The waitress appeared to be either extremely tired or very bored.  
She greeted them with "Yeah, whatta ya want?"  That's all.  They 
gave their order, and without another word she was gone.  
Apparently she was the only employee in the shop, and they were 
the only customers.

"Not exactly a major enterprise," Henry observed, not knowing how 
to create small talk with Ms Frost, since they had never spoken 
on any personal matters, and this hardly seemed the time or place 
to be talking business.

"I've been here at other times when it was quite busy," she 
informed him.  "With only one more bus stopping here tonight, 
most people have already gone home."

"At least they provide prompt service," he replied as he watched 
the girl return with their drinks.  He had to remind her, "I 
ordered a chocolate donut with that."

"Sorry," she frowned, looking at her watch.  "I'll get it for 
you."

"Are we keeping you from closing?" he asked.

"No, we're open 'til the last bus leaves.  People often wait in 
here, and we make a few sales."

"Like us," Ms Frost interjected.

"Like you," the girl echoed, then added, "so take your time."  
With that she retreated behind the donut display.  She was still 
there when the door burst open.  He was one of those non-descript 
men you often meet on the street.  You see one and you've seen 
them all, but ten minutes later you couldn't give an adequate 
description of him even if you tried.  This man's face was grimy, 
his hair mussed, and his clothing so filthy that its original 
color was completely obliterated. 

Henry turned away and looked out the window, seeking any sign of 
expected the bus.  That's when the girl screamed.  "Not you 
again!" she shouted.

"Yeah, it's me," the man grinned, pulled an old revolver from his 
pocket, pointed it at the waitress, then picked up the phone and 
jerked the wire from the wall plug.   

"Get down!" Henry instructed Ms Frost.  "Put your head down."  
Her back was to the door, so she hadn't seen any of this.

"What's happening?" Ms Frost asked, laying her head on the table.  

He indicated she should remain quiet.  "It's a robbery," Henry 
explained.  "Don't attract any attention.  Maybe he'll leave 
without bothering us."

"Okay, girly," the man shouted, "give me the money."  

"All right, all right, I will," she spoke loudly, "but there's 
not much tonight."

"Whatever it is, I'll take it," the man demanded, then held out a 
plastic grocery bag.  The girl readily complied with his demand, 
opening the till and dropping the few wadded bills into it.  The 
two stared at each other for a few moments.  Then he spoke again.  
"Well, come on, girly.  You know the drill.  Get with it!"

"Not again!" she protested.

"That's how it works.  Otherwise I may not have time to get away.  
So quit stalling and get out here!  You know what to do."

Reluctantly, the girl came from behind the counter.  Slowly, she 
removed her apron, and the man held out the bag.  "Just put it in 
here with the money, honey.  Your clothes are all going with me.  
That way I know you'll stay put.  The girl was already 
unbuttoning her blouse."

"What's he doing?" Ms Frost asked.

"Shhhh!  He's making her undress."

Ms Frost responded with some unintelligent sound, but Henry was 
engrossed with watching the girl.  When she had removed her 
blouse, the man once again held out the bag.  Then he watched her 
intently as she stripped out of her slacks, her bra and her 
panties.  She stuffed everything into his plastic bag, and then 
she just stood there, stark naked, in the center of the room.  
With only one window and it blocked by posters, there was little 
chance anyone outside could see what was going on.  They were all 
on they own, and that was quite frightening to Henry.   Even so, 
unnerved as he was by the ordeal, he had to admit the waitress 
was a real beauty.  Maybe it had been her attitude, or the apron 
she had been wearing, he was not sure what, but he had not been 
at all impressed with her when they came in.  Now, seeing her 
totally naked, he realized she was indeed very pretty.  He would 
really have appreciated her even more, had he could have seen her 
under different circumstances. 

"Okay, okay," the girl snapped.  "You've had your jollies again.  
Take a good look and then go!  Get out before someone comes."

Henry was also hoping the man would leave, but instead the robber 
looked directly at him.  "You thought I didn't see you two hiding 
in that booth.  Well, I see you, and now I'm going to see a lot 
more of both of you!" 

"They are customers," the girl pleaded.  "Leave them alone."

"Well, I don't want them running for help," he explained.  "And 
the best way to keep them in here is to take their clothes."

"Oh, great," Henry whispered.  On sudden impulse, he gulped down 
the rest of my latté, shoved his cell phone and car keys into the 
empty cup, then replaced the lid.  By then the robber was 
standing by their booth.

"Well," he said as he stared down at Ms Frost, "we have a classic 
beauty here.  A right proper lady, business suit and all the 
fixin's," he leered.  "Maybe there's not much money in the till 
tonight, but it looks like I struck gold right here in this 
booth."

"No!" Ms Frost announced.  "Leave us alone."

"Oh, a feisty one, eh?  All the more fun."  He turned to the 
waitress, "Lock the door.  Looks like I'm going to be here longer 
than I thought."  When the girl hesitated, he pointed the 
revolver at her.  She jumped, and a moment later said, "All 
right.  We're locked in."

"Good," the robber grinned.  "Now, come on back here and sit down 
so I can keep an eye on you."  Then he nodded at me, "I knew 
she'd see it my way.  Now, you, stand up."

"What?" Henry asked.

"I said to stand up.  I don't want any distraction later when 
this here nice lady starts to get nekkid, so let's get you out of 
the way first.  Stand up here and strip.  Once you're out of your 
clothes you'll not be apt to create a problem."  He waved the 
revolver menacingly, and Henry decided to do as he said.  Henry 
stood, and the man motioned for the girl to sit down.  She obeyed 
without comment.

It was then Henry realized both women were going to watch him 
removed his clothes.  It was bad enough, he thought, having the 
robber wave that gun around, but stripping in front of his boss 
and a naked waitress was quickly becoming embarrassing.  He 
didn't know which was worse.

Arguing with any man who has a gun is pure stupidity, and this 
guy certainly appeared to be unstable enough to use it.  He had 
no choice.  

"We're going to need a two more bags," the man told the waitress.  
"Do you have any here?"

"I guess so," she answered nervously.

"Well, don't just sit there.  Go get them," he ordered.

The naked girl slid out of the booth and headed for the counter.  
For a moment Henry had a reprieve and was able to postpone his 
undressing.  He watched her cute little behind do flip-flops as 
she walked away.  Nice, Henry thought.  Then he wondered what she 
would say about his butt in a few minutes after it was uncovered.  
Soon she was back, and the robber ordered him to put his clothes 
in the bag.  Grudgingly, Henry began to obey.  Just wait, he 
thought.  Once the police catch you, I'll have my revenge.  I'm 
memorizing every feature on your miserable face so I can identify 
you.  Just you wait, Henry thought as he removed his necktie.

Aware there was no sense in dragging out the inevitable, he 
peeled off everything.  Well, almost.  "May I keep my shoes?" he 
asked.  "Yeah, I guess," he allowed.  "They're too little for my 
feet anyway."  Last of all, he peeled his shorts down his legs.  
As he stuffed them in the bag with his other clothing, he thought 
he heard Ms Frost murmur something, but he couldn't make out what 
it was.  The waitress smiled only briefly, then her face returned 
to its previous look of terror.  What is it that keeps bothering 
me about this entire scene? Henry wondered.

"Okay, Miss Highandmighty," the robber snapped, "let's get on 
with the main event."

"Main event?" Ms Frost asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, this guy's not much to look at, and I've already seen this 
little waitress when I was here before.  So stand up, and let 
this guy have your seat.  It's time for the debut of your butt."  
He laughed at his pun, then snapped, "Move it!"

Ms Frost was agonizingly slow in pulling herself from her seat.  
Taking a cue from her, Henry was equally slow in settling into 
the booth.  

"Listen up, you guys!" the robber snapped.  "I don't got all day.  
Get with it, Lady, or I'll rip those clothes off you myself, and 
it would be a shame to ruin them."

"What difference does it make?" she asked.  "You're going to 
steal them anyway."

"Cute," he grinned.  "Now, let's see what you really look like."

Ms Frost was in no hurry.  She took her time removing her blazer 
and equally as much time folding it carefully before placing it 
in the bag.  Then she began to unbutton her blouse.  The suspense 
was deadening.  Henry desperately wanted to see her naked, maybe 
even more than did the robber ...not under these circumstances, of 
course, but it would really be nice to see her in the altogether.  
When she removed the blouse, he was shocked to see she was 
wearing a lace bra.  Somehow he had expected something more 
fitting her typical demeanor, like maybe one made of denim or 
canvas.  Even so, the lace bulged in ways which gave promise of 
good things to come.  The big surprise, however, came when she 
dropped her skirt.  Rather than pantyhose, she revealed thigh-
high nylons held up by a lace garter belt.  Panties were nowhere 
to be seen, but her well-trimmed pubic bush certainly was.  Henry 
was quite impressed.  She took her time getting out of her 
nylons, but then stepped back into her shoes.

"You said he could keep his," she insisted. 

"All right," the robber agreed hoarsely, obviously taken in by 
the view.

Finally she unsnapped her bra, releasing the most magnificent set 
of twins Henry had ever seen.  Not that he claimed to be an 
expert on boobs, but, Well, he thought, I would have been a whole 
lot more frustrated at my wife's leaving if she had sported a 
rack like that.  Wow!  Indeed, her breasts were full and lifted 
so her nipples pointed upward.  I didn't know any woman had them 
like that for real, he mused, except maybe in cartoons or in 
those old WWII Vargas pinup drawings.  Ms Frost simply stood 
there, wearing only her high heels.  The effect was dramatic, 
fantastic, pleasing.  

This time Henry said it out loud, "Wow!"

"Turn around," the robber ordered.  "I want to remember this 
view."  Ms Frost turned slowly. Then paused with her back to the 
table.  "Keep turning," he ordered.  "This is worth the price of 
admission."  He stared for a few moments, then added, "It's sure 
a shame to let such beauty go to waste."  He paused while he 
considered her.  Ms Frost was still slowly turning, and Henry was 
enjoying the view as much as the robber.  "On the other hand," he 
said, "there's no way I can enjoy doing you and still keep the 
rest of you under control."  She kept turning.

"Okay, enough turning," the guy said.  "Instead, let's have a 
little fun."  He turned toward Henry and ordered, "Stand up here, 
Man."  He stood.  "Lady, you get down there on the floor."

"No," Ms Frost snapped.  "That tile floor is cold."

The robber turned to the girl in the booth.  "Go get that rug by 
the door.  Lay it out here."

The girl obeyed quickly, then slid back into the booth.  That's 
strange, Henry thought, Why would he care if the floor was cold?  

"Now, Miss Priss," the robber ordered.  "Get down there ...on your 
back."  This time Ms Frost obeyed without complaint.  "Spread 
your legs," he ordered.  "And you," he looked at Henry, "get down 
there on her.  Lick her.  Warm her up.  Then stick it in her.  
You've been wanting to do that ever since you came in here, 
didn't you?  Now's your chance.  You don't have to ask.  You 
don't need her permission.  Just do her.  She's waiting for you."  

Indeed she was.  With her legs spread wide. Her hands were under 
her head, like a cushion, and her breasts rolled gently in time 
with her heavy breathing.  

"I'm sorry," Henry whispered to her as he knelt over her.

"Go ahead," she whispered back.  "Let's get this over with.  Then 
we can get out of here."

"I'm not sure I can," Henry told her quietly.  He looked over his 
shoulder and saw the robber was watching them intently.  So was 
the naked girl in the booth.  "I'm not used to having an 
audience," he complained.

"Come on.  I'm sure you can do it," Ms Frost insisted.  Under 
duress, he moved down between her legs and found she was soaking 
wet.  He licked, and the taste of her juices was like nothing he 
had ever experienced before.  Had she douched with perfume?  Was 
this her natural flavor?  Whichever, the effect was erotic, even 
when being forced by the robber to perform.  

Henry stroked her with his tongue only a few times before she 
grew impatient and pulled him up over her.  Her action came as a 
surprise to Henry, because he was using his tongue as a way of 
postponing the inevitable embarrassment of being too frightened 
to have an erection.

"All right, let's get on with this," she whispered.  "Here, I'll 
help."  Her fingers traced downward along his belly, then grasped 
his limp member and began massaging it.  "Will that make it 
easier?" she whispered in little more than a gasp.  Before he 
could answer, she lifted her thighs, pushed, and just like that 
he was inside her.  Inside and pumping.  And she was humping 
right back at him.  Henry had expected this to be like a forced 
rape, but instead she was doing him as much as he doing it to 
her.  They shared an exciting moment of extreme intimacy.  Then, 
suddenly he exploded inside her, and he realized she was 
throbbing with her own violent orgasm.  Impossible, I thought.  
How can we both come, and at the same time ...especially under 
intimidating circumstances like this?  Henry was ecstatic.  He 
wanted the moment to last, but eventually, he pulled himself free 
and looked around.  The robber was gone.

"He left while you two were, ah, involved," the waitress smiled.  
"So I guess we're here alone."

"Without any clothes," Ms Frost observed, sitting up.  She wore a 
wry smile.  Nothing more.

"Now what do we do?" Henry asked.

"It's okay," the waitress said.  "I have a supply of aprons in 
the closet.  You can use one of them to protect your modesty when 
the police come."

"Police!" Ms Frost exploded.  "No way.  I can't afford for them 
to see me like this.  Nor do I want to tell them what happened 
here tonight.  No police."

"But the robbery," the waitress insisted.  "I have to file a 
report.  Or the insurance won't pay."

Ms Frost thought for a moment, then said, "I tell you what.  I'll 
cover your losses.  I'll repay you for whatever money he took, if 
you'll not report this.  Please let me do this.  Deal?"

"Well, if you say so," she agreed.

"Good.  You come to my office tomorrow, and I'll give you the 
money."  She stood, then turned to Henry.  "It looks like I'm 
going to need that ride after all.  I'm sure the last bus has 
already long gone."  As she spoke, a tiny stream of semen crept 
down her thigh.  Casually, she picked up a napkin from the table 
and wiped herself.  That's when he realized his limp member was 
also wet and dripping.  With that same wry smile, she reached 
down with the same napkin and wiped away the drip, then handed it 
to him.  "Souvenir," she added with a rather lurid grin.  He was 
too surprised to speak.  Ms Frost then turned to the waitress and 
asked, "Miss, can we have a couple of those aprons so we can get 
to his car without being arrested?"

The girl disappeared into a back room, quickly returning with two 
oversized white baker aprons.  They were large enough to cover 
most of Ms Frost, but Henry's left a lot of his backside exposed.

"What about you?" he asked the girl.

"Oh, that robber's been here so many times that now I keep a 
change of clothes in the back room.  I'll be all right," she 
smiled sweetly, still not bothering to cover her nakedness.  
Somehow, Henry thought that seemed strange, but he couldn't 
figure out why.

Finally Henry retrieved his keys and cell phone from the paper 
coffee cup, thankful for once that he had the foresight to 
conceal them.  Outside, the street was deserted, and they made a 
mad dash up the street for the car.

Surprise!  There on the curb beside his car were the two bags 
containing their clothing.  Henry quickly pulled on his pants, 
then checked his wallet.  It was all there, including the cash 
and credit cards.  

"How did he know which was my car?" Henry asked.  "And why would 
he leave our clothes?" he asked as he opened the car door for Ms 
Frost.  She simply shrugged, as she untied her apron.  Henry 
stood for a moment watching as her beautiful twins disappeared 
into the cups of her bra.  "You're really very beautiful," he 
told her.

"Thank you," she smiled.  "And you're a good sport."

Once he was inside the car, he began to laugh uncontrollably.  Ms 
Frost was very quiet, and suddenly Henry was embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Ms Frost.  As much as I enjoyed having sex with you, 
I'm sorry it was like this."

"I'm sorry it was like this, too," she offered, pulling on her 
blazer.  "I think we ought to talk about it.  But let's wait 
until tomorrow.  Right now, I think I just need to go home."

He finished getting dressed, and then she gave directions.  
Following her instructions, he drove across the city to where 
eventually she had him stop in front of a large home in a nice, 
secluded section of town.  

"What is this area?" he asked as he held the door open for her.

"Libido Lane," she replied.  And then she was gone.

He waited for her to get safely inside, the he noted the house 
number was 97230.  I'll remember that, he  decided.  Then he 
drove slowly back to his own home.  So much had happened, stuff 
he needed to sort out, that it was a major relief when he was 
finally safe at home.  He soaked for half an hour in a very hot 
shower.

It was while he was drying off that he remembered his appointment 
the next morning.  He had not even looked at the new client's 
file, and in his haste to get home he had left his attaché case 
in the car.  Oh, well, it could wait.  It wouldn't be the first 
time he had gone into an interview without adequate preparation.  
It's amazing how well one can do by just faking it.  Clients 
typically will tell what you need to know.

After all the excitement, sleep came late that night.  Usually 
Henry would wake up before the alarm goes off, but the next 
morning he was still sound asleep when the chimes sounded.

Hurrying to be at his morning appointment on time, he retrieved 
his case from the car trunk and opened the file only long enough 
to check the address.  It was in an area not far from the office.  
He drove there and parked in front, suddenly surprised when he 
found the building number was actually on that same little coffee 
shop where he had been the previous night.  

Warning lights flashed in his head.  The uneasy feeling he had 
throughout the night before same flooding back.  So he was very 
cautious as he opened the door and peered in.  There was an 
attractive girl behind the counter, but he did not recognize her.  
The white apron she was wearing looked all-too-very-familiar.  
With a sudden attack of paranoia he looked closer to make sure 
that she actually was wearing clothes beneath it.

"I believe I have an appointment," he told her.

She called over her shoulder, "Insurance man is here!"  Then she 
smiled back at Henry, "The owner will be out in a moment.  
Meanwhile, if you'd like a complimentary latté, I'll fix you 
one." 

"That would be nice," he told her.  "You choose one you think I 
would like."  With that, he sat at one of the center tables, not 
really ready to risk sitting in a booth.  He did, however, make 
sure that he was facing the door.

A moment later, she came into the room.  Henry was dumbfounded.  
Approaching him was the girl who had been the waitress the 
previous night, only now she was dressed in a very attractive 
blouse and an expensive pair of slacks.

"Good morning," she smiled.  "I trust you had a good night's 
sleep."

"I've had better," he informed her.  "Don't tell me you own this 
place?"

"Absolutely," she smiled again, sitting in the chair opposite me.  
My husband and I just bought the property a few weeks ago, and 
you need to know right up front that this meeting is not a joke.  
We really do want to purchase insurance on our business here."

"After last night, I can understand why," he responded.

"Have you spoken with Ms Frost yet this morning?" she asked.

"No," I countered.  "Is there a reason why I should?"

That's when he came from behind the counter.  He was dressed in a 
sport coat and blazer, fresh and neat, but even cleaned up and 
properly dressed it was obvious that he was the previous night's 
"armed robber."

"Oh, here's my husband now," the waitress smiled.  "If you had 
spoken with Ms Frost, she would have warned you, but I guess she 
wanted you to work this out for yourself."

"Apparently," her husband agreed.

"So the 'armed robbery' was all a hoax?  A made-up charade?" 
Henry asked, finally realizing why he had been suspicious the 
entire evening.

"Something like that," the man smiled as he sat down.

"You see," the girl continued, "she's been interested in you ever 
since your divorce, but office affairs are not often good for 
business."

"So we worked up this little scheme," the man began, "to allow 
her, shall we say, to check out the merchandise."

"Don't worry," the girl laughed.  "You passed."

"Passed?" Henry asked, still amazed at this strange turn of 
events.

"Approved," she corrected, "and just as soon as you can sell us 
some adequate insurance coverage, you need to call her.  I think 
she intends for the two of you to take the day off."

"Together," the man grinned.  "Together."

~~~~~
Continued in Chapter 23




  
Chapter 22 - Armed Robbery