08-15-2013, 06:41 PM
Was this guy raised on some backwater, Italian pig-farm? A new land? Who talks like that? If his naive act was part of the charm, it was lost on Claire. Somehow, though, she didn't find herself spinning and leaving him in the dust. She was actually entertaining the thought of talking to him.
The admission about the practicality of his winter-wardrobe earned the passage of a scoff across her pale pink lips. I hope you got a deal. It was his follow-up question which provoked a sincere look of surprise. A provocation which was nearly impossible to elicit from the astute Claire.
She glanced downward, peering along the lean curve of her arm to the plastic wrapped around one wrist. The incense was a small purchase, enough to last her for several circles, but not enough to warrant a shop more than two or three clients. Yet the aroma was enticing, reminding her of the task at hand.
"Well-done, but I have no job. If you're asking for a private reading, well,"
she looked him up and down slowly, considering the shape of him, the poor cut of his clothes, and the timidity to his tone. Finally, the money in his hand. A small shake of her head followed. "I am not into that sort of thing."
She smiled a dark, ornery smile. "Your number? I'll send you a message when I land somewhere."
The admission about the practicality of his winter-wardrobe earned the passage of a scoff across her pale pink lips. I hope you got a deal. It was his follow-up question which provoked a sincere look of surprise. A provocation which was nearly impossible to elicit from the astute Claire.
She glanced downward, peering along the lean curve of her arm to the plastic wrapped around one wrist. The incense was a small purchase, enough to last her for several circles, but not enough to warrant a shop more than two or three clients. Yet the aroma was enticing, reminding her of the task at hand.
"Well-done, but I have no job. If you're asking for a private reading, well,"
she looked him up and down slowly, considering the shape of him, the poor cut of his clothes, and the timidity to his tone. Finally, the money in his hand. A small shake of her head followed. "I am not into that sort of thing."
She smiled a dark, ornery smile. "Your number? I'll send you a message when I land somewhere."