Cindy hung her head, letting her long, ash-blonde curls form a protective veil around her flushed face. This was probably the first time in her nineteen years that she'd had to make a decision of any importance entirely on her own, and she felt flustered and helpless. To make things worse, Mr. Fletcher - though he did seem very nice and friendly - persisted in eyeing her in a way that reduced her already shaky composure to shreds. She especially didn't like his remark about her thoughts showing on her face; it proved she still was out-of- control as she'd been the night before because since childhood she'd usually kept her expression smooth and guarded.
"I ... I don't know ..." she murmured.
"Let me tell you more about what we're planning to do," Tony said in his most persuasive voice, p
