Page 152 of Player
Finn
My beour is addicted to Sous Vide Egg Bites.I rub my jaw, startled by that and wondering what other little things I’ve yet to discover about her. Foremost, does she have a forgiving heart?
I’ve been following her for days, waiting for an opportunity to present myself. Paying obscene prices for cups of unrecognizable coffee. Fretting over her reaction to my reappearance and basically acting the maggot. I’m away with the fairies in thinking she’ll give me a chance, and then a lifetime together.
What I need is a plan. Dropping in on her at Starbucks isn’t it. Popping out from behind a fake plant during that bloody fancy party last night would have been in poor taste—though I was properly groomed and presentable in a bleeding suit and cologne that made me smell like an expensive gigolo.
Seeing how successful my minx has become is the reassurance I was searching for. I didn’t ruin it for her. I could leave knowing she wasn’t just well, but thriving. Then she gave that speech. A sweet dedication to a little girl that brought tears to the eyes, humbled the most depraved of souls, and, subsequently, sealed Clarissa’s fate.
Mine.
But how to proceed?
Flowers? I roll my eyes at that.
Starbucks gift card? Better.
Flowers and a gift card? Bleeding brilliant.
A plan clicks into place and I’m suddenly filled with determination. By the time I’m done, she won’t know which way is which.
I take a final sip of coffee, make a face my grandma would be proud of, then tossing the cup into the rubbish bin, leave Clarissa alone to eat her egg bites.
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