It flashed steadily. Almost like a warning.The counter timer served to remind the wait staff of how long food sat on the pass through, from the kitche... before it was picked up and delivered to the table.It was a fifties style diner, complete with jukebox and faded, framed photos of old cars, old movie stars, and old menus. People who loved the Last Chance Diner did so in large part because it never changed. They could depend on old-fashioned ambiance and sensible meals. The patrons on that last. The wine swirled across his tongue, rewarding me with a peppery finish while my mind anticipated what could be a spicy beginning.Her eyes never left mine, as she walked through the semi-crowded bar. She was tall, and the loose, flowing skirt she wore hid what had to be very nice legs. The snap of stiletto heels on the hardwood floor added punctuation to the long stride that only the longest of legs could produce. Beautiful fingernails adorned the slender fingers that came to rest on the. More

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