OCR Text |
Show Vogue 55 "You're nervous." "This i s n ' t my usual habitat." "So, you're here now. Stop c i r c l i n g and t e l l me about yourself." "Well, I once wanted to do f r e e - f a l l s from airplanes. I wanted to be a fan dancer after I saw Sally Rand, but they don't hire my type." " I t ' s your patrician features." He touches the t i p of her nose with a finger that has been laced around the ice cold glass of M i l l e r ' s. "You're elegant. Who are you?" " I f I told you who I was, you couldn't handle i t . " She t i l t s her chin in dramatic posture. " I t ' s like I'm a national repository of beauty, t a l e n t , brains, and wisdom, and i t ' s too much for common f o l k s . " She arches both eyebrows superciliously and grins Cheshire at him. "You're too much, a l l r i g h t . " He sips from his glass. "You're insinuating that I'm common." " I d i d n ' t mean to be rude." She ducks her head and s h i f t s her hands on her lap. A dark wetness begins to creep out from under her arms onto her pink satin blouse. " I t ' s a l l r i g h t . " He reaches for her hand. "I won't hurt you." Only her eyes look up at him, her head s t i l l bowed. "Do you come here often?" "A couple times a week. I like the atmosphere." "Do you come here to meet people? I mean, do you come here to meet women t o . . . t a k e home?" "Sometimes. I t al1 depends." |