A Body to die for

tell by his twitching eyelid that he was being ironic.
    My paranoia was showing. I considered the possibility he was telling the truth. As a detective, it was my obligation to see things from more than one angle. I felt the blood settle in my veins. My breathing slowed. I looked at Max. His nostrils flared slightly and his green eyes were squinty with concentration. I was often surprised by how much my words and actions affected Max. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” I tried. I shouldn’t have slugged the lug.
    “You look like shit when you’re apologetic.”
    “You know I look adorable.”
    “That knife on the table really adds to the appeal, Lorena.”
    I smiled. When the abused wife, Lorena Bobbitt, out off her cheating husband’s penis, the women of America rejoiced. Anyone named John Wayne deserved a (cut to the) quick lesson on how to be nice to women anyway. Too bad for him he had to get his education at the expense of his unit. Lorena Bobbitt should have cut off his fornicating head. “What’ll you give me to put the knife away?” I asked, happy to wheel and deal.
    “I’ll go down on you for an hour,” he traded.
    I accepted. Leeza, meanwhile, had emerged from the bedroom fully dressed. She clutched her gym bag strap in her fist and announced she was leaving. “I’m intruding,” she said. “I feel much better now, so I guess I’ll go. I’ve got to be at the convention in a few hours anyway. Maybe I’ll get breakfast. A nice, hot, three-hour breakfast.” She looked anxiously at Max. Í She seemed pathetic. I didn’t mind.
    “Have a nice meal,” I said.
    “You don’t have to go, Leeza,” Max offered.
    “No, it’s okay,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you around anyway, Max. At the club.”
    What club? my eyes asked Max. A light of recognition flicked in his brain and he exclaimed, “Holy shit, that’s right. You’re going to be working at the Western Athletic Club. Wanda, Leeza’s going to be working as an aerobics instructor at the gym. Maybe she can help you.” I nearly punched his ribs. Like the world needed to know about my case.
    “Are you looking for a personal trainer?” she asked me, appraising my body. An inside source wouldn’t be a terrible idea. I could make something of this if I played my cards right. I relished any chance I got to exploit others. I should really ask her to stay. Be hospitable. I had my own selfish needs to consider.
    I smiled big and said, “Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.” I can be both near- and short-sighted at the same time. One of my little bar tricks. I’m also good at sucking a cherry through a straw.
    Leeza split. Max crushed me against the fridge and we kissed. I felt a flood of dread for a second that he’d smell the cigarette on my breath. But when he pulled back and said, “Whew, Cuervo,” I knew I was safe. We jogged into the bedroom and he dove underneath the covers. I did a little striptease action and joined him. Max slipped his arms around my thickish waist. Leeza’s was small. I could snap her in half like a twig. Max lapped my neck. Compared to Leeza’s ropy throat, mine must have felt mushy. I pushed Max away—not something I do often. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around my knees. “Honey-bunny,” I said, my back to him. “I’m fat.”
    “You’re not fat, Wanda.” He sounded exasperated. Off in the distance, I heard Syd puking. She pukes constantly in the summer. Hairballs or bulimia, we’ll never be sure.
    “How can you be attracted to a woman like Leeza,” I asked when Syd finished, “and then be attracted to me?”
    “You know this story. I went out with her because she liked me. We were compatible. Everyone drummed it into my head that I was lucky and that she was beautiful. I was also twenty-five at the time. I wasn’t exactly a fully-formed adult. Now I know what I really want, and I want you. Right now. So please shut up already.”
    “You proposed to her,” I reminded him. “You must have loved her.”
    “What difference does it make?” he asked.
    He proposed to her; she’s skinny. He hasn’t proposed to me; I’m soft and voluptuous. “Nothing,” I said quietly.
    Max sat up in bed. “Nothing, huh?” he asked. “ ‘Nothing’ usually means I don’t get any sleep—not that I have all night anyway.”
    “Excuse me while I dab a tear from my eye,” I mocked.
    “Look, Wanda, if you want to lose weight, why don’t we fuck it