AV Gallery 26

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face like sunshine; surely not yet twenty. He saw blue eyes and long lashes; a white blouse buttoned up to AV Gallery 26 slender throat, and over that a light blue sweater. He arched an eyebrow. "Sure," he said after an appreciative pause. AV Gallery 26 held out a match in AV Gallery 26 cupped hands and confidently lit his cigarette. As he inhaled, Peck dropped his eyes and took in the sight of her small, saddle-shoed feet; grey socks; slim, well-shaped ankles and calves; a plaid, plaited skirt that ended just below her knees; and gently curving hips. He straightened up quickly, then, taking the cigarette in his fingers and hoping AV Gallery 26 hadn't "Thanks," he said. "Care to join me?" He thought belatedly that perhaps he ought to stand up, but it would have seemed too "Maybe," said the girl with a sly expression. AV Gallery 26 put the matches in AV Gallery 26 sweater pocket and clasped her hands behind her. "Harold Peck," he said, deciding to stand up after all. "Susan Carlson. Pleased to meet you, Woody." AV Gallery 26 sat down across from him, with AV Gallery 26 hands on her lap. "Are you sure you don't mind when people call you that?" "Aw, no, not a bit. 'Wood pecker' is so obvious, there'd be AV Gallery 26 smiled again. "I see you're a flier." ...(cont.)
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