The white-suited man turned his head as he heard the delightful sound of a female voice. Twisting a red rose between his fingers, he smiled, watching her cross the room to her seat, before looking back down...he glanced again, as if he wanted to talk to her, but didn't wish to intrude. Eventually, though, he sat the rose down on the edge of the table, going back to the news.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
