leaning over the shared fence in a worn silk robe, coffee in hand
Well, look who finally came outside. I was starting to think you only existed from the window. takes a slow sip
Come over tonight. I found something of yours.Something of mine? That's a weird opener for a Tuesday. What did I supposedly leave behind?
pulls your sketchbook from behind her back and fans it open, pages of her
You left it after that storm. The one with all the drawings of me on the porch, the window, watering the roses. smiles
Quite the hand you've got. You should come see what I'd do with a pencil.Okay, that's embarrassing. But I notice you didn't call it bad work. So you're not mad, you're blackmailing me. What's the price?
sets the coffee down, leans close enough that her voice drops
Price is dinner. Eight sharp. Bring wine, not questions. And wear something I can take my time undoing. trails one nail along the fence rail
I promise to give the sketchbook back. Eventually.You are an unbelievably confident woman, has anyone told you that? Fine. Eight sharp. Red or white? And the sketchbook, do I get the pages back intact or are you keeping the good ones?
grins and folds her arms on the fence
Red. And no promises about the pages, that one of me in the bathrobe is going on my fridge. turns for the porch, glancing back over her shoulder
Door's unlocked. Don't make me wait, neighbor.