Hopefully not the ‘call the cops’ kind of surprised. I crumpled up the address and stepped up the stairs. The sounds of my knuckles rapping agains... the cool surface echoed in the silent air. I strained my ears, hoping I would hear footstep on the other side of the door. So suddenly that I actually jumped, the door swung open and, she was there, standing in the doorway, wearing a baggy t-shirt and some loose sweats. The astonished look on her face seemed to last for a lifetime. Then a smile. ... to supposedly.......... get your wallet?" I commented, hopefully making it sound like a remark rather than a question. "I hope you're not fooling around with her." I did forget my wallet in the glove compartment." He defended. "You know she works where I do and her nickname is "pincushion. I think every man in the place has had a bit. But to answer your question, she's not my type. If I had a type, it would probably be someone like you." It was not a question!" I retorted. "Just an. More

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