I'm unleashing my inner Tigress.

Unfortunately, I've kept her on a tight leash today. So far the score is not in my favor. Life 5. Tigress 2.

Again, in my defense, let me say that Life is a mean, mean bitch.

I replayed the last section I'd read of Unleashing the Tigress Within through my mind as the chrome-and-glass building that housed Powell Aeronautics came into view. My upcoming meeting would go wonderfully, I assured myself; as a Tigress, I would allow nothing less.

Determined, I raised my chin and squared my shoulders against the cab's seat, effectively displaying my breasts to their best advantage. But try as I might, I couldn't get the cannibalistic expression down.

Of course, when you have lips as full and seemingly collagen-injected as mine-okay, maybe not so seemingly-the only expression they're good for is "I charge two hundred dollars an hour." Which, if you think about it, could imply I want to eat someone alive.

For Brad Pitt, I'd be willing to work something out.

For everyone else, well…I shrugged. Sorry, but all they'll get is the expression.

I pursed my lips, relaxed them. Pursed. Relaxed. Trying to find the perfect menacing facial cast. When I noticed the cabdriver staring at me through the rearview mirror, I turned my reddening face toward the window. I should have practiced at home, but I'd received an impromptu call from my ex-husband-may he die and burn in hell for all eternity- and that had consumed my spare time.

"I want to give us another try," he'd said. He usually called once a month with the same speech. He just couldn't stand the thought of a woman not wanting him. "I love you, babe. I swear I do," he'd finished.

Yeah, and my breasts are double-D delights of pleasure.

They're not, in case anyone is wondering. I'm barely, barely a B-minus.