Marcus had been waiting for this moment since he first spotted Chyler across the room at the fundraising gala last year. She was so incredibly popular that he found it impossible to get close enough to introduce himself, but he was determined to let her know that he existed and was definitely interested in getting to know her better.

None of his friends knew much about Chyler, and the people she had been entertaining that evening weren’t very forthcoming, either, which Marcus understood, as his direct approach might have come off a bit stalkerish, or even axe-murdery. So, he tried a subtler approach when he contacted the gala organizer to see if she was registered on the guest list. There he learned her full name and was able to procure her telephone number after spinning a crafty untruth involving the return of an item of a sensitive nature.

His second lie, which he claimed would be his last, came when Marcus cold called Chyler, pretending to have met her at the gala and enjoying their conversation so much that he wished to continue it over lunch sometime, at the public venue of her choosing. Chyler apologized for not remembering either Marcus or the conversation, but their interaction over the telephone intrigued her enough to accept the lunch date.

Marcus was certain that Chyler said yes just to get him off the telephone, but when he arrived at the outdoor restaurant, there she was, looking as beautiful as the night he first saw her. Her eyes caught hold of his soul, the breeze passing gently through her golden hair produced the sweetest of melodies. All the flowers in the vicinity leaned in her direction for Chyler was the sun.

But the moment Chyler opened her mouth, Marcus’ brain felt full of static, like an old cathode tube television set that lost its signal. His inner voice screamed at him to turn around and flee, because this drop dead gorgeous woman’s breath…smelled like a monkey’s handbag.