Then he leaned in and looked closely at her. ‘You sure don’t look 40 to me. Your skin is so smooth and, I don’t know, fresh looking. It’s just...lovely.’ Her cheeks flushed a little and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. ‘Well, thank you, Peter. That’s…um…that’s sweet of you to say.’ He knew his stare was making her uncomfortable but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The blush on her cheek was endearing and he was just noticing the dark caramel color of her eyes. ‘Would you care for more wine?’ He. He'd kept the paper napkin that she'd blotted her bright scarlet lipstick with and that he'd retrieved from her table after she left the coffee bar. There was a strand of her jet black hair that he'd managed to surreptitiously cut, standing so close to her in that packed underground train that he could smell the light, flowery, scent she favoured. Pinned alongside it was a plan of the layout of her apartment building and a list of the places she went; the health club, her favourite bar, and,. More

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