“I still can’t believe you drink wine,” Owen declares into his cell. It’s pizza on a couch whilst watching football - that is a beer occasion if ever he hears one. But apparently his colleague Jamie and Jamie’s wife Claire are red wine drinkers whilst the 49ers and Steelers are battling it out.
That has led to current predicament of Owen pacing up and down the ridiculous number of wine bottles to try and understand what he is looking for. Despite his time socialising with the rich and fancy of Maine, he stuck to the champagne or water. “You’re killing me here man, will you just tell me a name so I can buy it and not miss the start of the game?” There are some indecisive murmurs at the other end before Claire apparently wrestles the phone from her husband’s hand. Finally giving him a name and telling him to hurry up.
Slipping his cell in his pocket, he locates the correct bottle on a bottom shelf. Squatting down he re-reads the label again before grabbing one, pushing himself into a standing position he turns and… freezes.
Owen never met Sylvie, but he saw enough pictures from Coop that he feels like he would recognise her on sight. But not enough that he’s completely certain she’s currently stood at the other end of the aisle. Looking away for a second, he blinks before turning back. She’s still stood there and he can’t help but feel that it has to be her because it’s too much of a weird coincidence if not. His jaw slackens a little and all he can think is ‘why?’
no subject
That has led to current predicament of Owen pacing up and down the ridiculous number of wine bottles to try and understand what he is looking for. Despite his time socialising with the rich and fancy of Maine, he stuck to the champagne or water. “You’re killing me here man, will you just tell me a name so I can buy it and not miss the start of the game?” There are some indecisive murmurs at the other end before Claire apparently wrestles the phone from her husband’s hand. Finally giving him a name and telling him to hurry up.
Slipping his cell in his pocket, he locates the correct bottle on a bottom shelf. Squatting down he re-reads the label again before grabbing one, pushing himself into a standing position he turns and… freezes.
Owen never met Sylvie, but he saw enough pictures from Coop that he feels like he would recognise her on sight. But not enough that he’s completely certain she’s currently stood at the other end of the aisle. Looking away for a second, he blinks before turning back. She’s still stood there and he can’t help but feel that it has to be her because it’s too much of a weird coincidence if not. His jaw slackens a little and all he can think is ‘why?’