Back To His
I’ve never done this before. Coming over in the cab, my late Grandma’s voice was nagging. What if he’s a weirdo? What if he’s married? In my day, you didn’t just meet a man and go home with him.
Thanks, Grandma. These days, it’s this or the internet.
And it’s firmly a bachelor apartment. Most of the books look like props, unopened. Never read. But a couple show years of love and those might tell me who he is. Les Sept Femmes. Not one I know, but a quick google is enough. He reappears, grinning, as I grab my coat.