He had been working on his tan and, thanks to the warm weather of late, it was looking good. He was looking good and he knew it—and his latest guest at the summery beachfront abode seemed to agree. He left her curled up seductively at one end of the cream sofa in the living room, her denim miniskirt riding up to show a glimpse of the toned curve of her bottom. She was a small dark girl with a full mouth and big brown eyes, and Simon hoped to examine that pert derrière much more closely by night’s end. She worked in ‘promotions’, she’d said. He was having a good night. Not a bad pull for a Thursday. Now Simon was in the small kitchen, searching through the cupboards. There was one more bottle in there, he was sure. Ah, yes. Excellent. He sauntered back into the living room, grinning and holding the slightly warm, unopened bottle of Moët et Chandon champagne by the neck. A soft breeze stirred the chimes on the patio; the doors were opened wide to accept the dark, balmy evening.
