“Why are you giving them to me? What’s the occasion?”Kyle took the vase from her hands and placed it on the counter. He then held her in his arm... as he told her, “There will never be a need for a special occasion to justify giving flowers to a woman I care about.”“What are these roses called? They’re breathtaking!” she said.Kyle took one of the roses from the vase, smelled it and then handed it to Tara to do the same. “They’re called ‘Hearts-A-Fire’,” he told her.“A very appropriate name,” she. I notice these things."So are you?" she continued, tapping red laquered nails against the glass. "Discreet, I mean, Mister Bumfelt?" I'm expensive," I replied. "That buys a high degree of discretion."She looked to me- those green eyes, lips as red as the pour on dress, auburn locks falling over a shoulder, taking my eyes to her low cut neckline."I want you to kill my husband," she said. "Can you do that for me, Mister Bumfelt?" Micky," I replied, pouring myself another shot of bourbon. "If. More

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