When in doubt...

...have someone walk into the room with a gun (Raymond Chandler)

No gun to hand, so...

A beautiful woman walked into my office.  She had hair the colour of a cornfield from your childhood and she was wearing a dress that looked like the simplest thing imaginable but which had probably cost an arm and a leg.  Probably someone else's arm and leg.  She looked like she had spent a lot of time making it look as though she wasn't wearing any make-up.  She was carrying a couple of extra pounds but they were the couple of pounds which women always want to lose but which men would prefer that they kept.

I, however, wasn't looking at any of this.  My eyes were fixed on the glass of wine she was carrying.  It was only a small glass, but I knew better than most that even a small glass of Merlot could make a nasty mess on a nice, off-white, pure wool rug.  A rug like the one on my office floor.

"I got your name from the Yellow pages".  Her voice suited her.  Soft and warm but with a hint that she was used to getting her own way.
I nodded encouragingly - I ran an ad in the Yellow Pages which emphasised my discretion and professionalism.  After a long debate with myself, I had not illustrated it with a picture of a blackjack.

"Are you a real detective?"  As she said this, the glass began to tilt dangerously and, acting instinctively, I stepped over and grabbed it with my left hand. When she began to faint, I grabbed her with my right.  I was in a tricky position. I would need both hands to move her away from the nice, off-white, pure wool rug to somewhere where she couldn't do any damage.  There was only one way out. I drank the wine (it was a Merlot) and threw the glass out into the corridor - let the cleaning service deal with that.

It was going to be one of those cases...