Weekend Writing Warriors: The Anti-Cupids (Nosy)

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First:

Happy Father’s Day to anyone who identifies as male and is owned by a child of any age or species.

Heart Fish

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 Here’s another bit of conversation between Jack and Viv, again from Jack’s POV.

This originally took place right after the final dress fitting,  which I’m reworking, but I’m thinking of moving it to the wedding reception, because it wouldn’t do for Jack to notice that he’s noticing Viv too soon.

So, depending on my final edit, Viv will take either a swallow of hazelnut mocha or a sip of Champagne, just as Jack comments that she doesn’t look much like her (conventionally gorgeous, waif-like) sister.

He means well . . .

Cyrano de Bergerac

 

 “Good eye,” she said, coughing a little.  “Questionable tact.”

“It wasn’t an insult, just an observation.”

She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter either way.  “Jen looks like Mom and I look like Dad, except for the hair and the nose; the hair is from Mom’s Grandma, or so she tells me. I have no idea who passed down the nose, but I’m grateful—the last thing this face needs is two pounds of Mitchell Schnozz stuck in the middle of it.”

“I like your face,” he said, but she’d turned away.

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Makes you wonder how he manages to snag all those marriage-minded women, doesn’t it?

Except maybe he’s comfortable enough with Viv to drop the smooth, practiced patter and be himself . . .  Yeah, that’s probably it.