Imagine: Attending the Man from U.N.C.L.E. premiere with Henry.
“Would you like me to handle those for you?”
As you glance across the car, you find a pair of bright blue eyes and a raised brow. Ten minutes in the limo and you and Henry have yet to speak. You knew he was mentally preparing himself for the flashing lights and interview questions. So, you didn’t take offense. You, on the other hand, were mentally preparing for walking in the stilts attached to your feet.
The look of pure confusion sent his way pulled a light chuckle from Henry’s lip. He shakes his head before sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. Unbeknownst to you, you had been fiddling with your breasts the last two minutes. The rich plum gown you wore was Henry’s favorite from the prospects chosen by his stylist. You loved the whistle he’d released upon first seeing you in it, and the way it flowed when you walked. You weren’t quite comfortable with the deep neckline. The feeling you were going to spill out, any moment, resulting in you absentmindedly adjusting the fabric while you stared out the tinted windows.