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a knee-length nude sundress and rosy pink sweater with nude lace-up Army boots to match.  The loose curls of my hair bounced as I walked.  I’d forgotten how it felt to feel good about myself.  The very least content.
                  I saw Old Tily’s Convenience Store.  I inched my way closer and spotted Jensen stacking the shelves with cans.  He looked incredibly attractive, even with his purple work vest and faded jeans.  My stomach was in knots.  I was getting closer, slowly – like a shark sneaking up on its prey.  That’s when he saw me.  And to my surprise looked . . . happy .
                  “Hello, Miss Montage,” he grinned.  “You’re wearing something other than your nightwear, I see.”
    “Ha, yeah,” my voice shook.  “I’m in public.”
    He smirked.  “What brings you to Old Tily’s?”
                  “Oh, you know,” I said, glancing at the shelf he was stocking, “lima beans.”
                  “Well we have a fine selection.”
                  “I know you do.  And I already know which can I want.”  I used to be the queen of flirting back before I dated that monster .  I felt the slight adrenaline rush flow through my veins with urgency.  It was greatly unexpected and I liked it.
                  “Take your pick,” he said, showing me the different varieties.  “But they’re all the same,” he laughed.
                  “No,” I responded, getting closer to him. “Not all of them.  One can stands out from the rest.”
    Am I suicidal?  Do I want this flirtatious-act to turn sour on me?
                  “You mean the expired can all the way in the back?”
                  “Um, no.”
    Does Jensen realize what I’m getting at?  Or do I sound ridiculous?
                  “Well in that case I’ll let you choose since you seem to know more about canned lima beans than I do.”  He was about a half a foot away from me when I picked up a can.
                  “Alright,” I said coolly, “I have what I want.”  My heart squeezed against my ribcage, tightening ever so slowly.
    Jensen chuckled and moved closer.  I could feel his warm breath on my cheek, so inviting and smelling exceptionally good.  The aroma satisfied my head.  “Avalon you know those are string beans, right?”
                  “Uh,” I looked at the can of beans in my possession.  “Yeah, just what I wanted,” I smiled.  I couldn’t believe I had gotten this far in the conversation.  I was making a complete fool of myself.
    He laughed.  “Avalon, you are certainly something else.”
    Considering I don’t even like beans, period , I guess he could say that.
                  “So,” he said, eyes piercing through me like blue daggers, “what really brings you here?”
                  “You,” I said, clearing my throat.
                  “Oh.”  He genuinely looked surprised.  “What can I do for you?”
    It took all my courage and inner strength to tell him what I wanted to say:  “Take me out.  Tonight.”  My breath caught in my throat as I waited for his reaction or response.  “I want to talk to you.”
                  “A woman in charge,” he mused, “I like that.”  He then winked at me.
                  “What else do you like?” I urged.  We were so close now.
    I couldn’t believe how comfortable I was around him. And so quickly, too.  In a way this scared me.  Before him I hadn’t talked to a man in way too long.  I deeply hated feeling so uncomfortably comfortable around him.  It was unexpected and a little drastic compared to my previous state of mind.  But I wasn’t going to waste this.  He was just what I wanted.  I needed to know more about this guy – this immaculate gift from G-d.
                  “Midnight