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Spank and Run
“You wait here while we check it out,” Officer Mora told her. She nodded mutely and sank onto the wooden bench outside her adobe casita. The mayor sat down next to her companionably, leaning back and crossing his long, elegant legs as if lounging near crime scenes was the most normal of affairs for him.
She stole a look at his handsome profile. He resembled Benicio del Toro, wearing his hair a bit shaggy, which was ultra-sexy when coupled with the button-down shirts. He had eyes the color of milk chocolate and dimples that appeared when he flashed his white-toothed smile. She would guess him to be in his mid-forties, which wasn’t that much older than her thirty-three. His gaze slid to hers and, caught peeking, she immediately flicked hers down to her shoes. He put an arm behind her on the bench and gave her shoulder a squeeze. It was a casual gesture, yet felt too familiar considering their relationship. He’d never been the sort of client she hugged at the end of a session– they had always been on strictly professional terms. This breach of his usual stand-offish demeanor made her pulse quicken. What had caused the change?
The officers returned about ten minutes later, addressing the mayor again, despite the fact that it was her home that had been burgled. It was your typical machismo, and it grated on her feminist nerves. To her surprise, the mayor looked over and gave her a quick wink, as if he understood her frustration. Her irritation evaporated as abruptly as it had appeared.
“Ma’am, I wouldn’t stay here alone tonight, if I were you– unless you can get a new door installed,” Officer Mora said, addressing her directly for the first time. “Do you rent this place or own it?”
“I rent,” she moaned. And her landlord lived in Colorado, which didn’t bode well for getting the door fixed quickly. Her belly tightened painfully as she realized her predicament– she wasn’t safe to stay in her own place, but if she left, all her remaining property would be vulnerable to further thieving. Panic closed her chest, renewing the sense of violation and anger toward the hoodlums who had put her in this position.
“Well, you’d better call your landlord to fix it, and find someone to spend the night here with you so you’re not alone.”
“She won’t be alone,” the mayor said with great authority, shocking her right down to the soles of her feet. “I’m spending the night.”