AFTER THE RAIN (Bonus edition)

15. Ducks of a feather

Stormy didn't like it one little bit. Not at all. Nada. Nooo-dle. She sat in the car, that woman's face burned into her brain. Her red-headed seductiveness, her pouty-licious lips that begged to be nibbled on, her abundant bust reminiscent of large undulating hills, that Barbie Doll waist and blue-eyed glint. That was the worst part – those big, blue come-hither eyes. You knew what she wanted! And you knew what Marcus was about to give her. The thought repulsed her, even more than scatter cushions and flat screen televisions.

And the way she'd seen Marcus stare at the picture after they'd taken their selfie together, when he thought she'd been looking at the giraffes. Awe. He'd been gaping. Open-mouthed even. He was longing to paw her again – it was obvious. Stormy felt like he was cheating on her in some weird way. Last night he'd been hers, but he'd probably only been thinking of the red-headed temptress. She wanted to know so badly... But how could she broach the topic without sounding all jelly?

"So, shame... A break-up, hey?" Ambiguous. Pointed in the right direction, yet discreet and friendly- sounding. Or not, judging by the look that had just swished across Marcus's face.

"Huh?"

"Your ex, hey. Two weeks ago, huh? Harsh. Hectic. I mean, shame. Sorry dude." That had sounded a bit too staccato for her liking. And she'd said 'dude'! Maybe she wasn't doing such a great job of hiding her feelings after all.

"Not really. It wasn't working, for me anyway," Marcus said, eying Stormy suspiciously. She had a feeling he was starting to see where the conversation was going, and she noticed a tiny smile on his face. Was he thinking of those perfectly rounded hips? Stormy had always wanted a bit more meat on her bones, but alas, she could eat like a sailor and never put on weight.

"Why the sudden interest?" he asked.

"No reason. Just, you know, thinking out loud per se, etcetera, and so forth," she replied in what she hoped was a vague, innocent tone.

"About what?"

"Nothing really! Just thought I would offer condolences."

"She's not dead," Marcus smirked.

"No, but you look like you miss her." Marcus slowed the car down and turned to look at Stormy properly.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Just the way you were looking at her picture on your phone. You looked sad, like you love her but can't have her, in that whole parting-is-such-sweet-sorrow-Romeo-and-Juliet-drinking-poison kind of way. That's all."

***

Marcus found himself in an interesting predicament. A part of him wanted to tell Stormy that he'd been looking at a picture of her, but how could he admit to that?

"You must have misinterpreted the look. I was actually thinking how angry I was with her," he lied.

"No, I didn't. I don't misinterpret looks," she insisted. "I'm a theatre actress, remember. I know looks, Marcus. I can see looks."

"You were far away, standing by the fence," he countered.

"I can read people like a page, Marcus."

"Like a book."

"Stop changing the subject. I can see it." She was getting increasingly agitated, and for some reason, the thought that Stormy was jealous of Emily sent a little thrill up his spine.