On the Saturday evening, I called at Angie’s place at about seven o’clock. She buzzed me up, and I let myself into the apartment. Angie was in her bedroom getting ready.
“Pour us both a drink, John!” she called. “I’ll have a vodka and tonic.”
I fixed the drinks, and as I turned Angie emerged from the bedroom. She was wearing a classic, dark green dress with a flared skirt. Her hair was up, but with two ringlets hanging either side of her face. She had a pearl choker on, and carried a simple, dark green purse. She smiled as she saw me.
“Gosh, you look smart!” she chuckled. I’d put on my Armani jacket, and a pair of chinos. She took the glass from me, and raised it in a toast.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Y-you look…amazing!” I whispered without thinking. She smiled, and blushed.
“Do yo
