The Streetwalker and the Cop

Summer waved as she started walking down the steps and reaching the sidewalk. A balmy breeze whipped up sending falling leaves racing through the air. The moon overhead shined down brightly lighting her path along the otherwise dark sidewalk.
As she came within a half block of her apartment, she saw a bright spotlight shining and catching her in its glow from a slow moving car. She froze on the spot wondering what was going on. Eventually, Summer turned and spotted what looked like an unmarked cop car pulling over to the edge of the sidewalk close to where she stood.
A man stepped out and left the red light blinking on the dashboard. A moment of fear touched Summer realizing the guy might not be a cop, but someone that wanted to cause her trouble. Usually, she didn't feel any fear on the residential street since she knew most of the people and it was on the outskirts of the bustling city of Chicago. Now, if it had been in the heart of Chicago, then she would have had something to worry over.
She glanced at the man dressed in casual slacks and a long sleeved sweater, showing the wide width of his shoulders and muscular arms.
As she looked up into his dark features, she felt her heart beginning to race wildly. The reaction didn't stem from fear, but from the excitement, she experienced simply looking at him. The man was a walking dream.
"I'd like to see some form of identification," he told her, surprising Summer with the request as he removed a small flashlight from his pocket.
"Why do you need to see my identification?" she asked stiffly. "I haven't done anything to warrant you stopping me."
"Oh, no?" He reached out and turned her easily until her back was facing him. "The sign on your back states you make $100.00 dollars an hour and I know it doesn't mean baby sitting. By the way you're dressed it could mean only one thing."
"What are you talking about?" Summer whipped around to face him. "I don't have a sign on my back." The minute the words left her lips, she remembered Jackie pinning something on her, but she wasn't curious enough to ask at the time. Damn that Jackie for getting me into trouble.
"I beg your pardon, you most certainly do," he contradicted her.
"Well, let me see some form of identification from you to make sure you're a cop," she demanded, moving a few inches back from his intimidating muscular body."
He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, holding it toward her and shining the small light on it for her to see.
Summer saw the shiny badge beneath the fold he'd flipped open and then she glanced at his name.

Dettagli