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Monday, January 18, 2016


Welcome! The word prompt this week is "paint". We are still on Harley and Shyla's story. Last week we learned that Shyla has been hired to do the set decoration on the TV show Marriage Minded where Harley is a contestant, looking for a wife. Their story continues...
Don't forget to click below to go to the other Tuesday Tales. 


Helen, huh? Using Harley. What if he picks her, thinking she’s in love with him? I’ve got to warn him. But how? He doesn’t want to talk to me.
Shyla’s ability to focus on a book evaporated, pushed out of her head by a new obsession –save Harley from the grasping Helen. She got his room number from Sarah. After slipping a note under his door, she waited by the phone. She flipped the news on the television, stretched out, and fell asleep.
At one, the phone woke her. She yawned.
“Harley?” She yawned.
“I told you to leave me alone.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About one of the women.”
“Oh?” The annoyance left his voice, replaced by curiosity. “And what do you know about them? Have you been meddling?”
“I overheard stuff. I was in the gift shop, getting world’s most over-priced bathing suit.”
“What did you overhear?”
Shyla sat up and crossed her legs as she recreated Helen's story about launching an acting career after she hooked Harley. He was silent, listening.
“Hmm. Helen, huh? Yeah, I know her. She keeps coming around. I think the other girls are beginning to get annoyed.”
“I just thought you should know what her motive is. Why she’s here. What she’s after.”
“I get it.”
There was silence.
“Thanks. Thanks for telling me,” he said.
“I don’t want you to get taken for a ride, Harley.”
“No one could give me a ride like you did.”
“It wasn’t a ride. I meant everything.”
“I know, I know. Forget it. Thanks again. Gotta go.”
“Good night,” she said. The set designer pushed up from her bed and padded to the bathroom where she washed up. After stripping off her clothes, she got into bed. She wasn't sleepy, so she
turned to peek out the window. Moonlight painted the palm leaves silver. St. Thomas is the most romantic place outside of Paris. The idea of the City of Light brought her obligations to her father and brother to mind. 
She closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander to the secluded condo where Harley would be having dinner with his next date on the morrow. Colors, fabrics, candles and scents swirled through her brain.  I’ll pretend he’s having dinner there with me. She drifted off to sleep.