“The snapshots were of me, silly! Look!”
A mouth, an eye, she thought while posing in that way, that fashion, smiling all the time through the vulnerability. Wish it were that simple. Would he see through the lie?
“I have another place we can go,” Prince said.
“Old man Johnson’s farm?” she jested, automatically putting the photos away for another day by stepping off the stand. She straightened her MS grace skirt; smoothed out the wrinkles. Not on her watch.
“Ha ha. I *wish*. But… I have to get back to old man McGee — breaking my balls, you know,” Prince thought to say to extend the humor. “Lunch break’s almost over. Oh a shame, such a shame, tsk tsk tsk,” he adds while playfully looking her over.
“Ha ha,” she uttered in turn, truly smiling now. Were they in sync? There were differences from the archetypal one, the one that he sang about, that would peck you a kiss from the back of the motorcycle as easy as the wind blowing through their hair. Obviously not as “easy” (loose). He’d have to properly woo her to win her over; luckily he’s graced with patience and charm and wit as well as passion. But to that new location…
——
“*This* is what I can give you, my Raspberry Girl, my raspberry cake — lady. A heart.” tbc?
