Bella Street

“What the hell do you have on?”Emily looked down at her ensemble. “I have done something wrong, haven't I?”“Did Tinker put you up to this?”“Well, she said it was my manager uniform.”“You...you look like an oversexed librarian.”She blinked. “Is that a bad thing?”

“You're speaking English but I still don't get it,” Tinker muttered.”

“That's a killer accent you have. Sounds exotic.”“Just British, I'm afraid. I only know a trifling of foreign tongues.”He plopped down onto the divan next to her, his multi-colored arm stretched along the back.“Foreign tongues—I like the sound of that.”She thought to the article she'd read in the nail salon. “I've picked up a little French and Italian,and more recently, a bit of Hindi, I believe.”“Really?” he said, leaning close. “Such as?”“Oh, you know, Kama Sutra, and things of that nature.”Suddenly Liam was at her side. “You'll be sitting out front, Emily,” he said through grittedteeth, “right next to the stage.”