Demand the rate be paid

From Create Your Own Story

"I'm afraid that's not how it works," you say, nodding your head in disagreement. "I'll need the payment by the day. It's a living wage as much as anything else."

She seems to consider it, then gets to her feet slowly. "I apologize for wasting your time then," she says quietly, dropping her cigarette into her glass and turning to head for the door. You hate to see her leave, but with the way she sways her hips, you can't help but love watching her go.

With the blonde gone, you can get back to what you were doing: drinking and sulking, and waiting for a more profitable case.

So much for that knock-out blonde.

The End.