VIOLA
He offers his arm and I link my arm through his. We wander away from the party into the gardens. There is still some time before the reception begins. I’m sure whatever he wishes to discuss will be over by then.
“It’s a lovely evening,” he says, sounding as if he is observing something working exactly the way it should.
“I think it’s perfect,” I reply.
“Nearly perfect.” His remark tells me that he thinks something is missing.
“And what would make it perfect if I may ask?” I say looking up at him as we walk towards the beach.
“Getting to know you better,” he replies confidently.
I blush, thankful that it is night and there is little light for him to see how red my face is. My skin is a golden brown but despite its color, I’m sure he could see me blushing if there was enough lig
