Blog Blogger: TAYLOR BOW closed my shop early that afternoon. I was anxious for our evening to begin, but the extra time only meant I had longer to wait. I arrived at the restaurant a half-hour before eight. Apparently, she liked to be early also, because it was only a few more minutes until she walked through the door. There were few diners in the place, but all eyes were on her as she smiled and walked to me. It was no wonder. The short black skirt, snug sweater, nylon-clad legs and heels would have been enough to wake a dead man. The woman next to our table punched her husband in the ribs, and he grudgingly turned back to talk with her. I heard the soft swish of nylon on fake leather as she slid onto the chair, and I smiled, knowing every man in the place was cursing me for my good fortune, and every woman was fuming in jealousy.
