P is for Pier

She took a photo of the empty pier. The grey skies and cold water made it feel more like winter than July.

Photo by Mati Mango on Pexels.com

She wandered along barefoot, kicking the water and sand in front of her as she walked. It was about time to head back to change into dinner clothes.

She and Max were meeting a client and his wife for dinner. Max had brought her along on his trip–the hope had been that they would have some alone time but so far that hadn’t happened.

Or at least not alone time together. He’d promised that this dinner was the last thing he had to do and they’d have tomorrow all to themselves.

She jumped into the shower to wash off the sand and saltwater. Hearing the hotel door close, she called out, “How was the meeting?”

“It was great. The only ‘downside’ is that his wife had to cancel dinner. I guess you’ll have to put up with just me tonight.”

“Oh, I’m so disappointed,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Does that mean that I don’t have to wear uncomfortable clothes and we can go to a place that I want to go?”

Max laughed. “It does indeed. Did you have something in mind?”

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around her wet body and nodded. “There’s a little restaurant at the end of the pier that I saw. Let’s go there and then we can walk on the beach after.”

“Isn’t it a little cold for a walk on the beach?”

“That’s why we have that big bathtub in here. I’m pretty sure we’ll both fit–and you can warm me up.”

“That I can do.”

(286 words)

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