She'd been like this for over two weeks now and he felt worn thin from putting out her fires, or at least trying too. Goodness knew there wasn't anything he would be able to do if she went ballistic on someone.
Lisa Tauranto was singularly blessed in life. Born of an Italian mother and a East African Negro father, she had what every woman envied, both in form and flawless skin. She didn't even wear makeup or do anything with her long black curly hair, an attribute from her Italian mother. She was strong and could have easily had a career as a professional athlete.
There may have been men stronger than her on the force, but they still probably didn't stand much of a chance against her. She had mastered at least half a dozen fighting styles and seemed to do nothing but work out in her time off.
She wasn't a workaholic by nature, but something drove her so hard that she could have passed for one. Whatever it was he hoped it would stop, because he could see that she was starting to wear thin emotionally. She'd even lost a little weight he thought. He was worried for her. He hoped something good would break out in her life soon to slow her down, because the way she was going through it, it didn't seem that enjoyment of her life was even a concept she recognized.
Lisa was about to bust her way through the backstage door when a tall weasel of a man stepped in front of her. "Is there something I can help you with honeylicious?" He asked, giving Lisa an openly appreciative look as he eyed her up and down.
I wasn't in a good mood and the piece of walking human garbage in front of me was wearing out what little patience I had left.
"Step aside!"
"Whoa! Whoa! No way miss! I own this joint! To go backstage and view the lovely ladies is a paying venture only." He finished with.
My fist tightened at my side, but I flipped up my badge instead. He read it and his face creased into a lopsided smile. I wasn't entirely sure he wasn't high on something.
"Lisa Candace Tauranto, NYPD detective. Woo we! That sure is a mouthful, but without a warrant you're not getting past that door. But hey, I'll tell ya what I'll do. If you'd like to make some extra money with that hot bod of yours I'd be willing to let you strut around my stages and peel off a few layers, if you know what I mean. You'll get all the access to the dressing rooms and the girls that you want then."