Built for Trouble

CALL ME SUCKER
Her name was Nola, but the first time I saw her the names and games were still to come. I don't impress easy - after all, I'm a lifeguard on the L.A. beaches, where the talent comes by the gross.
But this one - thin-waisted, stacked high, black hair billowing over bare white shoulders - was something to make an Egyptian mummy sit up and unwind his linen. She bothered me.
A few hours later she bothered me more. I was out of a job, dear-Johnned by my girl, and a prize patsy in one of the neatest and nastiest sucker games since Adam met Eve.