or whatever other titles she claimed on her website. Back then she had plastic-framed glasses that, along with her height and an explosion of frizzy hair, made her look nerdish, or at least eccentric. The impression had been strengthened by penchant for certain books and movies, and countered by a husky, sexy voice. The first time Steve invited her to sleep with him, he had frankly thought of it as a mercy-fuck; he had been pleasantly surprised, when the sheets were turned down, to find the sexy part of her had won out. But he wasn’t sure which part of her was winning just now; she stood just out of sight behind the half-open door of her townhouse, a looming, unreadable presence. He pushed at the door, expecting her to reveal herself. She pushed back, so firmly that Steve was forced a step or two backwards. “You read my e-mail?” “Well, sure, yeah, but…” Steve frowned, then tried to smile reassuringly. As he remembered the email in question, the smile grew wider. “You weren’t serious with all that?”
