Lise sat down on a chair opposite her husband. ‘Rod, we need to talk,’ she said. Rod, a perturbed look on his face, glowered at her. ‘Talk about...what?’ he said. ‘You gonna get on my case about sex again?’ ‘No, not about that. We need to talk about us,’ Lise replied. ‘What about us?’ Rod snapped. ‘You know, Rod, I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately,’ Lise said, ‘and the answer I keep coming up with frightens me.’ Rod’s face clouded up and turned red. ‘Lise, what the hell are you. You’ve waited this long, another ten minutes won’t kill you. She pulled a compact from her purse to check her make-up. She had never been so nervous in her life. She smoothed her waist-length, dark red-brown curls and checked the light make-up she wore before snapping the case shut. A quick check of her clothes—a dark red satin shirt, the top two buttons left undone to give a tantalizing hint of her generous cleavage, an almost knee length black skirt made out of some kind of light material. More

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