“Oh.” She said, not as all impressed with his lighthearted romp through this escalating scene. “So NOW you want dessert because a man, in a better apartment than you, wants to meet and greet me?” Her eyes squinted, her mouth pursed out and the saliva flowed, lubricating the chance to tell him off once and for all.
“The Bakery's closed. The hours are between Fuck and You.” She tucked her purse under her arm, ran a finger through her salon perfect hair, ““You are the biggest hypocrite ever! No wonder you want to be a politician. The snake suit fits.” and then she pushed past him, making sure her shoulder butted up against his in a display of the sort of wifely aggression a quarterback princess might attempt.
While she moved through the restaurant and of the faces aghast in the unbridled display of passion and newlywed anger it became more apparent that she had become entirely unhinged (much to her horror) in PUBLIC. A side that that was completely unlike her. When it got to be too much she cried out at a fat, nosey looking woman with an outdated mink stole and too much blush on her aging face, “MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!” and then the water works started as she made her exit out to the parking lot.
She didn’t even consider how she got here. Honey wasn’t thinking now. She was terribly upset and when she got to the car she grabbed the handle and tried to open the door with all her might, finding that the doors had been locked and then realizing that she should call a taxi or else endure the ride home with Vincent Alexander Laurent’s bloated, gloating face. She HATED when he was so unaffected by everything.
Until she realized that no…she usually didn’t care that much at all.
And then she realized that she wanted to make him pay for making her into a love sick fool.