Felicity was having a bloody brilliant day.
After stopping off at the stables for a couple of hours in the morning to see her darling pony Algernon – who she had not named, for what it’s worth – she’d gone for the most marvelous lunch with Skye. She’d swung by the Spectre offices – the sort of tabloid that the world needed more of, thus proven by the fact that her father despised Ravi Deshpande – and watched in quiet awe as her friend had displayed absolutely no visible attraction to her gorgeous, bumbling coworker. Honestly, if Fliss hadn’t been desperate to make her lunch reservation, she might’ve ravished the man himself right there and then. All the same, after a couple of cheeky margaritas on her end, Fliss had a pep in her step as she made her way to her next engagement for the day.
While he didn’t quite know it yet, she was about to spring herself on Carmen and pull him away from that darling Bed ‘n’ Breakfast he and Chris had put so much care into. The two of them worked too hard, she thought, and she fancied an afternoon at The Met.
Wind whipped at her hair as it trailed down her shoulders, loose whisps escaping from the constraints of her – if she did say so herself – rather Blair Waldorf-esque headband. She came to a halt on a street corner momentarily, adjusting the skirt of her dress, lest she flash her pretty cunt to half the population of New York. She begun rummaging through her purse for her pocket-mirror so that she could adjust those loose strands when something caught her eye.
Well, not something, but rather someone.
Brow arched, Fliss straightened her back before hurriedly shoving the mirror back into her back. She fixed her dress for a second time before tipping her head to the side, allowing herself to freely observe the stranger. There was no use beating around the bush, he was utterly fucking gorgeous. Should Izzy or Toby be there, they’d have agreed wholeheartedly, she was sure. The stranger seemed to be locked in an intense conversation with a man who looked like he’d missed the invention of the smile. They exchanged heated words before the more rugged of the two stormed off down the street, leaving the gorgeous, curly one unattended.
Albeit looking a little frustrated, brow furrowed, and lips puckered in a way that left very little to the imagination, but all the same hers for the taking!
Allowing herself a few stolen seconds to look at him some more, Felicity’s heart skittered at his side profile. There she’d been worrying about Skye’s precious little farm boy at work when she’d stumbled directly into the path of something much better. He was all long limbs and luscious curls, hair spilling down his forehead in a way that was so artfully messy that she wholly believed it was natural. Yes, Carmen would have to wait. She had bigger concerns.
“Is that pout permanently fixed to your features or does your mouth have other talents I should be aware of?” Fliss mused loudly as she joined him at her side, never one to be overly shy.