‘Well who was that?’ Mamette demanded, putting out her cigarette and fixing her gaze on her cousin. ‘Herr Fredrick Ziegler,’ Claudette answer...d simply, ‘He frequents the bookstore.’ ‘Herr Ziegler. Oh Claudette, please don’t tell me that you’ve gotten involved with a Nazi soldier!’ Mamette gasped. For a woman who lived as fast and loose as she did, she was staunchly anti-Nazi. ‘Oh hush, Mamette, we’re hardly involved. He is simply a kind customer who comes to browse books at times.’ ‘Though. " Yes boss," I smiled.Dismissing James, we began a day of shopping, tooling around in my or her two toned Chevy—cream white with baby blue detailing. The newly upholstered leather interior mirrored the colors of the outer shell. Our bodies kept contact throughout the driving and our hands rarely separated when we got out and shopped. We even remained together in the dressing rooms where both copped feels which only served to intensify a low libidinous buzz that sustained within us throughout. More

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