Haunting-Adeline

My hand lands over his phone, hal ng his progress.
He looks up at me, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed.
“Whatever you’re about to do, stop it. That’s my girl.”
Somehow, Mark’s eyes get even wider.
“That girl over there? She’s yours?”
I nod my head once.
“She likes to be le alone when she works, and I respect her space.”
Mark’s white, bushy brows plunge down.
“Why didn’t you say anything? Introduce us at least?”
“I was planning to a er she finished with her work.”
Mark’s eyes thin, confusion swirling in his blue eyes. He’s an older man,
with sagging skin, liver spots, and knee problems from how he groans
every me he stands up. But he’s also an astute man for his age, and his
mind is s ll sharp.
“You were going to pass the restaurant without saying hi to her?” he
interrogates, referring to my lie about walking to my car. “And go to a
different restaurant?”
I stare him dead in the eye, making sure he can see just how
unconcerned I am with his ques oning.
“My girl lives in a peaceful li le bubble when she writes her books. She
doesn’t like to be bothered when working, and I respect her space.
Especially because it allows me the freedom to do whatever I please
without her worrying about what I’m doing.”
Add a sprinkle of adulterous implica ons in there, and Mark immediately
relates. He laughs, his yellowed teeth on full display.
“I knew I liked you,” he chuckles, his crow’s feet deepening.
I squeeze his phone, the device s ll trapped between both of our hands.
“Delete the picture, Mark.”
Mark’s eyes bug. “Oh, of course! I’m terribly sorry, Zack. I didn’t mean to
offend. I had no idea,” he says hurriedly, trying to laugh off the fact that he
was looking to kidnap my mouse. He has ly deletes the picture from his
gallery.
I'll be hacking into his phone later to confirm it has been permanently
deleted. Asshole thinks I’m dense and don’t know what a Cloud is, or that
you can access your trash and reload the picture.
I’ll also be ensuring that he didn’t actually send the picture to anyone.