Flash Fiction | Romance
The Picnic Bastard
Was it a bet, or is Shane romancing Belinda for real?
This story continues where Room 113 ended, but can be read as a standalone tale
“I’m a bastard!” Shane berated himself, folding the money away in his wallet.
Tony had paid him for something he wanted to do anyway, but he’d use the readies to take Belinda out. With her rail of fawning fellas, it would keep him on his toes to impress her. No! Shane stopped himself there.
Watch out or you’ll fall into the same trap as the other lotharios
He returned to reception, where Belinda had been chatting with Monique. At his arrival the girls ended their conversation abruptly. Belinda strode away, casting him a look of daggers.
“What’s up with her ladyship?” Shane asked in their next quiet moment.
“She wasn’t specific,” Monique replied, “but your ass is grass.”
Shane snorted, it sounded extra funny delivered in Monique’s Belgian accent, but he racked his brain for how he’d fallen out of favour with Belinda. That jogged his memory though, so he hurried to return the step stool to the store area.
