Page 123 - The Administrator - A Startling True Story of Politics and Deception_Neat
P. 123
THE ADMINISTRATOR | 111
“-- POP!” the cork shoots up to the ceiling and the fizzling sounds of
effervescence clouds their multisensory experience of approaching each other.
Alonzo pours some of the bubbly in a flute and hands the flute to her.
“Thanks,” as she takes the three-quarter-filled flute from him.
Then he pours some in the second flute. He gently rests the Champaign bottle
on a nearby table, and turning, “to Manuela for Short and Alonzo Thomas.”
“DING!” a long-sustained clinking of their crystals together gratifies their
multisensory.
As she takes a sip the escaping fizzles graze her noise -- causing her to giggle.
“Oh, mine. Excuse me.”
Alonzo gently places his left arm around her waist, guides her, and they
gradually sink into his sofa. Ever so softly, he grazes his lips against the edge of her
red-brick lips -- triggering them to gape slightly.
“I really like you, Alonzo, but nothing’s happening tonight.”
“Sorry, nothing. Nothing like?”
“You know ... I mean, you know what I mean.”
Looking at her with a raised eye brow, “sorry, I don’t.”
“You didn’t say how long you’re staying,” changes the discussion.
