The work-night was over; still too early for dawn.
“See ya, Jimmy,” Darlene said to the doorman.
Stepping into the morning chill she adjusted her scarf.
“G’nite, Miss Drake!”
She walked away from beneath the darkened marquee that read:
“Girls, Girls, Girls”
“They didn’t leave; but they’re hiding from you.”
“Because, you’re it, go look for them. They’ve barely been able to contain themselves; waiting for you to come home and play. Just don’t look in the garage, at least not right away.”
“No, it’s not simple,” I said, “but I’ve done this before,”
I set the second glass down in front of her
“Beeblebrox himself, taught me the secrets.”
She lifted the glass high, “Bottoms Up.”
Things’ll start to get interesting right about…
My mother wouldn’t like Jillian.
Jillian knows what she wants.
Excepting my mother, Jillian is the most stubborn woman I know.
Neither she nor I care what Mother might say.
Mother doesn’t know what Jillian brings to the table.
But I do.
“Not unlike HP Pavilion or AT&T Park. We’re offering naming rights. We’re certain the weekends will sell first and command high prices. But we’re unsure about Monday. Can I sign you up?”
“How much for midweek? Maybe Tuesday or Wednesday or something?”
I watched the morning sunlight curl through her hair.
Changing shades with subtle variations.
Captivated; I marked the warm, buttery-white glow that framed her countenance.
Meanwhile, cool-white reflected from the shameless wisps that couldn’t be tamed,
rivaling the blued-white of her blouse.
As the light blinked out she saw him watching, watching from the shadows. The glass she held shattered on the tiles. “How’d you get in? What do you want?”
“I came in through the bedroom window; and I’ve come for you, Molly.”