12
The man before me is slender and pale.
A mole by the corner of his eye that is strikingly alluring.
Very different from how I remembered him.
I was examining him, as he was examining me.
His black eyes seemed nonchalant.
“Miss Harper, long time no see.”
“Still so… enchanting and captivating.”
His voice was smooth as falling pearls.
I smiled at him: “President Grant is indeed as reputed.”
He slightly raised the corner of his lips, and smiled gently.
We were both speaking pleasantries, which we both understood well.
“The flowers you had sent, Miss Harper.” He looked back at the window, “They’ve bloomed.”
I took out the gift box from my bag and placed it in the center of the table: “President Grant’s necklace, received.”
I picked up the glass from the table.
He reached for the gift box.
I pulled the box back.
His hand paused, and I looked at him with a smile.
