Phyllis Willis.

“Is Dr. P. here?” I say.

Jeff’s eyes start to tear up. “You’re so beautiful!” he says.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Her,” he says.

“Thank you,” Gwen says. Then smiles and adds, “I’m Gwen.”

Jeff looks her up and down. “You certainly are.” He looks at me. “How do you do it?”

“Let’s move along.”

Young Joe Penny is so stupefied by Gwen’s legs I leave him there to recover.

I don’t blame the guys. Gwen is spectacular. Still…

“Jeff,” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Try to be professional.”

Jeff nods, and escorts Gwen and me down a short hallway.

“That wasn’t here before,” Gwen says, indicating the small glass-walled cubicle that’s blocking our way.

“It’s for security,” I say. “Watch what I do, then do the same.”

I enter the cubicle, and Jeff closes the door behind me. I place my feet on the two small dots on the concrete floor, put my hands on the glass walls on either side of the cubicle, and close my eyes. Five seconds later a beep sounds, and I exit through the opposite door, close it, and wait for Gwen to enter the cubicle. She does, but turns sideways while looking for the dot upon which to place her right foot. Without meaning to, she strikes one of the sexiest poses I’ve ever seen! Her hip is practically touching one side of the cubicle, and her left foot, the other. She’s wearing five-inch black stilettos with a single black ankle strap. Of course, at this angle, the front of her dress is almost completely open.

Just as I’m wishing I had a picture of her in this pose, Jeff snaps one with his cell phone. I’ll confiscate it later. Eventually Gwen gets her feet situated properly, waits for the beep, then joins me on the other side of the cubicle, and together we wait for Jeff.

He joins us and we continue down the hall to the surgery center, where Gwen and I visit with the brilliant Dr. P. for a few minutes. I own the building, but I’m giving Dr. P. eighty percent of the actual business to run the place. He’ll bring class and credibility to the plastic surgery center, and will soon conduct interviews to hire a manager to run the spa.

We can’t use the former spa manager because I killed him the morning I shot Phyllis.

As we head to the spa’s consultation room, Gwen says, “You bought this place?”

“I did.”

“I had no idea you were rich.”

What she means is she assumed I took the job as Lucky’s bodyguard because I needed the cash. Being obscenely wealthy would normally be enough to win Gwen. In fact, the only thing Lucky had going for him when he met her was his fifty million dollar financial statement. By the time I met him, six months later, Lucky was flat broke.