Martha sang out, sitting at the desk and placing her chin in her hands.“Who, me?” I twirled the rose again.“Obviously,” she said. “But so does that delicious slice of man cake who left the rose for you.” She blinked her eyes dramatically several times.“Nathaniel West?” I asked, delighting in the sound of his name on my lips. “He’s just someone I’ve been seeing.” Okay, that was a lie. I’d been doing a hell of a lot more than seeing Nathaniel. And the rose was nothing but a thankyou for not turning him down.Martha stood up. “A cream-colored rose with a touch of pink is serious business.”“Really?” I stopped twirling. “Why?”“John Boyle O’Reilly?” she asked. “The Irish poet?”I shook my head. Never heard of him.Martha clapped her hands. “This is so romantic. It’s from his poem, ‘A White Rose’—”“It’s not white.” Martha shot me an evil look. “I know that, I’m just telling you the title.”“Sorry.” I waved, interested in seeing where she was going.
What do You think about The_Submissive - Tara Sue Me?
