“Poetry is my job,” she told him. “And curiosity. I am insatiably curious. And I want to know where it came from.”He gave her a blank look for a moment. “Your name is Summer. Is the connection between that and Sunshine really that obtuse?”
She hadn’t taken her eyes off the ceiling, so she missed his expression entirely. “I guess I just don’t think about it that way. You’re so bad at romantic gestures, Tony,” she teased.
Spring sunlight poured into the big windows in the penthouse. She lolled in a chair positioned precisely in the longest splash of light, damp hair draped over the back of the canvas to catch the warmth. She’d been reading, but the hand holding the ereader drooped, and she gazed dozily at the ceiling, smiling faintly.
Idly she asked, “Tony, do I bring light into your life?”
“Nope, not at all,” Tony answered easily, tone light enough to make it obvious that he was just poking fun. He peered over the edge of his tablet at her, one eyebrow arched. “Of course you do.” He slid down further into a more comfortable slump on the couch. “What’s up?”
“Oh, I was just letting my mind wander. Trying to figure out if there’s some kind of meaning behind Sunshine, why you call me that.” She giggled. “‘Of course,’ he says, like it’s obvious.”
“A poet I am not, Sunshine,” he replied wryly, and looked back to his tablet. “Some nicknames don’t need decoder rings.”
“Poetry is my job,” she told him. “And curiosity. I am insatiably curious. And I want to know where it came from.”
Spring sunlight poured into the big windows in the penthouse. She lolled in a chair positioned precisely in the longest splash of light, damp hair draped over the back of the canvas to catch the warmth. She’d been reading, but the hand holding the ereader drooped, and she gazed dozily at the ceiling, smiling faintly.
Idly she asked, “Tony, do I bring light into your life?”
“Nope, not at all,” Tony answered easily, tone light enough to make it obvious that he was just poking fun. He peered over the edge of his tablet at her, one eyebrow arched. “Of course you do.” He slid down further into a more comfortable slump on the couch. “What’s up?”
“Oh, I was just letting my mind wander. Trying to figure out if there’s some kind of meaning behind Sunshine, why you call me that.” She giggled. “‘Of course,’ he says, like it’s obvious.”
Spring sunlight poured into the big windows in the penthouse. She lolled in a chair positioned precisely in the longest splash of light, damp hair draped over the back of the canvas to catch the warmth. She’d been reading, but the hand holding the ereader drooped, and she gazed dozily at the ceiling, smiling faintly.
Idly she asked, “Tony, do I bring light into your life?”