“Are you decent?”“Who, me? Yeah, I’m decent.”Goetz opened the door and walked in. “The doc called and said your scans were fine. If you feel all right, I’d like to leave. Got things to do.”I was glad Goetz was going home. “No problem.” I followed him to the front door, which apparently had been repaired during my slumber. “Thank you for all your help.” I was about to close the door.He turned, facing me. “What’s the problem? Not good looking enough for you?”“Excuse me?”“I’ve done everything but do cartwheels for you, lady, and I’m getting nowhere.”“I don’t know what you mean?”“You know damn well what I mean. There’s no sizzle, no juice from you.”“You want juice? Go to a juice bar.”“You owe me.”“I don’t owe you a damn thing.”Goetz shook his head. “If you only knew.”“I just got conked on the head and knocked out. How sexy can I be, you jerk? Is that why you’ve helped me through this? Thought I was gonna come out in a skimpy nighty and say, ‘Hey, Mister Policeman, thanks so much for helping little old me.
