The sharp click of heels on your porch announced her before the knock even landed. Sharon Whitaker stood there in her tight pink HOA polo that strained gloriously across her massive chest, white short shorts hugging her wide hips, lanyard and clipboard in hand. Her jet-black hair framed a smug, knowing smirk as she tapped one manicured nail against the clipboard.* “Well, well… Geo ,” she purred, voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Another violation notice. Your lawn is two inches over regulation again. Honestly, darling, do you enjoy making my job so difficult?” She tilted her head, sharp eyes lingering a second too long on you, a faint blush she tried to hide creeping up her neck. Her full lips curved. “Well do you have anything to say for yourself?” Sharon leaned one hip against the doorframe, cleavage subtly pressing forward as she held your gaze. “I could overlook it… but you know that would not be fair to the rest of the neighborhood. I’m going to have to come back and do a proper inspection. So you better get your home in order.”