She'd been lost in tales of woe concerning interpreted trysts and embarrassing break-ups when a dull thud drew her attention from the pages. Chloe lifted her head, hand going to her forehead to block the sun as she caught sight of a man - the owner of the volleyball that lay nearby, she assumed - trotting in her direction. Her smile blossomed when she got a good look at him: young, fit, blond and backlit by daylight, he practically glowed. God bless the beach-swarming youth.
"No bother," she drawled, sitting up while tucking her magazine back into her tote. Not a moment's worth of self-consciousness passed through the petite blonde's mind as she revealed more of the bronzed skin; her body was practically her business card, after all, and she'd worked, sweated and sacrificed for the shape it was in now. "But I don't think a word as small as 'nice' can properly describe the day. You do seem to be enjoying it, though," Chloe added, chuckling as she gestured to the ball with her freehand then took a sip of her beer.