Reese lit the candle and sipped on her Shiraz. The music was playing a sultry mix of Seal and slow Whitney. For a second she questioned if it was too cheesy, but that didn't last long as Whitney dwindled across a note she'd sworn she'd never heard a human being reach before. Yes, this was perfect for the occasion.
Her wine glass was collecting condensation in the humid heat of the Portland summer. She noticed so was her skin. A slight chill went down her spine as sweat dripped down her neck and her glass trickled a cool droplet over her finger tips.
She spun around the small apartment, double checking to make sure the "snack bowl" was stocked, the "love pipe" packed, and the sheets perfectly disheveled. She examined her tiny strapless bustier of a bra to ensure it was covering the money making bulls eye. No, these puppies would not be coming out until she saw the money.
She wandered around, a bit anxious, in her pink plastic pumps. She recalled how smart she was to ignore Dee when she suggested she buy the ones with light up soles. I'dduh looked like a damn fool, she thought. As she teased her over-hair sprayed hair in the mirror she heard her phone begin to buzz. Unrecognized Oregonian number? This must be him. She tucked in her belly, sat with an arched back, and prepared her sexy voice. "This is Reese."
She quickly slouched herself as she realized who it was. "No, Eric is not here. You've got the wrong number."
No comments:
Post a Comment