Page 47 of Lovebug
“Oooooh, a prospect?” Calliope chirps. “Clearly, I’ve missed something! Do tell!”
“Abusinessprospect,” I quickly correct.
“Mabel’s pyramid scheme needs men, so I volunteered to attend her next recruitment event,” Wally explains. “She’s going to boost my testosterone for me.”
He follows this up with a wink.
“For the last time,” I protest, “it’s not a scheme, and the MANicure line is really amazing, everyone! I’m happy to do a demonstration for any of you at any time…”
“Call me crazy,” Calliope croons, “but something tells me Wallace here has no trouble with his testosterone levels.”
“I thank you, milady,” he says with a slight bow. “But one can never be too sure. Besides, I’m happy to support Mabel’s burgeoning business.”
I get lost in his B’s. That’s weird, I know, but there’s something about the way his lips bounced on all those B’s just now. Besides. Burgeoning. Business. Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh.
I’m drunk.
And… I’m staring at his mouth.
“Big night ahead of you, Wallace?” Louise asks.
“How do you mean?”
She gestures to the boxes of growlers he has stacked on a hand truck. He looks down at them.
“Ah. No. Just transporting these over to the arboretum for my buddy James. His brews are being poured at the festival next Sunday.”
“Oh! The Local Artisan Festival? I’ll be there too! So will Mabel,” Louise says excitedly.
“Oh yeah? What will you be doing, Louise?” Wallace asks.
I’m impressed with how he picks up people’s names so quickly. How he looks people in the eyes with such sincerity.
“I’m manning the touch tank.”
“The what tank?” he asks.
“Touch tank. Portable aquarium,” Louise explains. “Gives kids the chance to touch a turtle, cuddle a crab, stroke a starfish… I’ve been volunteering at The Philadelphia Aquarium while I’m in town for an internship. So I’m helping them out today.”
“Ah. Sounds fun. And what will you be doing, Mabel?”
“Doing what? Who? How dare you! I’m not doing anything, mister! I’m just sitting here. You’re the one doing all the doing!”
Why am I suddenly so fired up?
“What is going on with you?” Cyndi murmurs loud enough so only I can hear.
Wallace chuckles.
“You’re right. Let it be known that you are ‘just sitting there,’ and I am the one ‘doing all the doing.’ Now that you mention it, Mabel”—he drops his voice lower and leans in closer to me—“that scenario sounds delightful. You just sitting there while I… ‘do all the doing.’ Count me in.”
“What?” I sputter.
“Hmm?” He smiles.
“Oh, wow,” Cyndi breathes as she looks back and forth between us.
Wallace continues, “I was talking about the artisan festival, though. What do they have you doing at the artisan festival?”
