Some Pretty Things

Jenna lined up her beauties on the window sill, these fractions of heaven distilled for her pleasure. Her humming was infectious, helped along by the bouncing sway of her youthful hips.

Newspaper spread before him and pipe clenched firmly Erlich looked every bit the part of a Ward Cleaver or Steve Douglas. The glint in his eye over top of the daily rag proved him anything but.

Not meaning it in the least, he said blandly, “You should be wearing more clothes.”

“…can’t make me dance around, but your two-step makes my chest pound.,” she finished the song lyric that had went with the hum, “Don’t be bossy. ’Sides, you might as well have something to admire as well.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off the stones, marveling and grinning at the myriad shimmers, glimmers, and colors.

“Flatter yourself much?” he teased before returning to the bland editorial about crime rates in the city.

She gave a harumph and an extra wiggle, “Paris next?”

“If you wish, or Los Angeles.”

“As long as it’s somewhere pretty.”

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