yeah .yeah ... I want to know that, but also ..." it was hard to get to the point -- I didn't know how to say I suspected her of trying to seduce me. What if I was wrong -- what a fool I'd feel like then. So I lamely continued my question: "... I mean, why are you ... are you, you know ... being this way with me?" "Well first," she replied cheerfully and without hesitation, "I got you the magazine because I thought you'd like it ..." ('Like hell!' I thought suspiciously. 'You got it to seduce me. And cut out the fake innocence.' But I didn't have enough guts to actually say anything like that to her) "... but I'm still not sure about your other question," she was saying. "Are you asking why I'm being nice to you?" She seemed a little hurt, but I didn't believe it. I wanted to say, "No. I'm asking why you're being such a slut with me. Did Rachael put you up to it? How much is she giving you for this?" But instead, all I could get up enough courage to say was, "Well ... yeah ..." I was whining "... I mean, you've never been this ... this nice to me before and ... and, well, I'm a little surprised and ... and, well, I guess I'm just wondering why." Never missing a beat she replied, "I want you to enjoy yourself, Al." She lowered her voice and gave me a provocative look and continued, "I'm just trying to help." I suddenly noticed that despite my panic and anger, she was starting to turn me on. She looked so sexy there right in front of me, and her flirty moves were having their effect. But I forced myself to ignore that and snapped back sarcastically, "Right. |