But I'd alwaysbeen dressed as a woman, which somehow didn't seem gay to me. Sittingthere in Morton's, in a beautiful dress, on a date with a handsome...man,in my mind I was really a woman, and I'd convinced myself that sex with aman was a natural act.At another point, we talked about the fix I was in. Ron had learned abit more about the police investigation. It seemed that the tgirl Greggkilled at the Sheraton - and me - weren't his only victims: over thepast six months, he'd left a trail of. I half expected Steve to follow up with something clichéd like, “...and what’s a nice girl like you...”“What was the filet mignon in the sauce bayonnaise like?”I half choked on my first mouthful of wine. My reaction must have been noticeable because he laughed saying, “We don’t just eat jellied eels in Peckham!”“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude but how do you know I had the filet mignon?”“Cos I was sitting on the other side of the restaurant...and I sorta noticed ya.”“Ahh..I see.” I arched an. More

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