No, Jimbo hadn't lied. His apartment was fantastic with a dynamite view of the city, sumptuous furnishings, and for the next 48 hours, mine all mine! He'd even left sweet smelling fresh cut lilies on the window sill.
"Hope you like my place," I said, turning the key at 2:00 A.M.
"Love it!" she squealed. "What did you say you do again?"
"I'm a risk arbitrager. Or arbitrary risker, something like that. Now how about we get ...."
"OH, NO, LILIES! I'm very allergic!"
"Well, we'll just get rid of them then!"
"AHHH-CCCHHHOOO!!! No, once I'm exposed, I'm a mess for the next 48 hours!"
Picture prompt above, story below, and at 107 words I'm not too far off the pace of 100 this week and nowhere near as far off the pace as I was with the abortive seduction of some years past sadly recounted herein.
This is my weekly contribution to the Fabulous Flying Friday Fictioneers and Lily Lover Legionnaires Association. Click the link when you're ready to spend 48 hours or so enjoying the posts of the other Fictioneers/Legionnaires, each and every one of which is nothing to sneeze at.
Sorry, got to go now. I've a lot of arbitrary risking to do if I'm ever going to afford my own place like this!