Cold Handshake

Lola parked her car outside Jackie’s small, Spanish style home, just south of Melrose. She had found the address with no trouble, and after she got out of the car, she walked along a small cement path that led to the back of the house, where she entered Jackie’s small, but quite comfortably furnished office.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jackie said, as she extended her hand and looked Lola directly in the eye for a second longer than was entirely comfortable for Lola.

Jackie was warm, but not overly so, and she seemed to size-up her new client with a slow head-to-toe glance that made Lola feel that she was being surveyed for something more than a professional, therapeutic relationship.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Lola replied, as she took a seat in what appeared to be a leather recliner that was draped in rich-hued , red and tan, Persian tapestry.

Jackie noted that her new client was very blond and very beautiful, but that her handshake had been weak and that her hand was notably cold for a mid-July day.