Prince greeted me with a bouquet of red roses on my arrival. Red roses wrapped in back paper, and his bleached-white smile.
"For you, Diana. I wanted to give you black roses at first, but I thought it would be too grim."
'Like it's not too grim as it is. Also, can't you just take a hint?' I gritted my teeth together hard enough that I was afraid I might break my fillings. But, for now, Prince was a client, and I had to act polite if I wanted to get what I wanted and be done with him. That meant accepting the flowers until I could throw them away and giving him my thanks.
I was careful to not touch his fingers as I took the flowers from Prince.
But oh, how insistent he was. Polite, even gallant, but insufferably insistent.
"Would you want anything to drink? To eat? I have an excellent wine collection," he said as soon as I exchanged my sandals for soft guest shoes.
