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.. with me?"Jim smiled. "Well you are the only other one here, aren't you?" Yes," she looked at him and smiled shyly. "I'll go to dinner with you." She couldn't believe it–she hadn't felt this nervous even when Tom asked her to marry him!"Good. We can take my car if you like. I do have to stop by my place for a minute and change clothes–I can't have you looking so pretty while I am dressed like a bum! I have a reputation to keep up!"You could be wearing a trash bag and look good to me! she thought, but smiled and agreed. "That's fine."So they went out to his car, an immaculate '69 Camaro SS convertible in candy apple red with two wide white stripes running parallel down the length of the car from the front bumper, over the hood, starting again at the trunk and going down the back to the rear bumper."Oh, Jim! This is a beautiful car!" Yeah, it's my baby. Some people think I might be trying to relive my youth–like it's a sign I'm having a mid-life crisis or something. But the truth is,. She made quick steps over the sandy walkway, past plants both familiar and strange, laid out in orderly fashion or grown chaotically as nature willed. There were fountains and gazebos and sub-gardens dedicated to certain plants, shrubs cut to look like animals, pillars covered with ivy and flowers. It was scenery that would have captured the attention of any casual visitor but Evie was oblivious to the world around her. There was only one thing that she had on her mind--screwing that BMW guy.The deeper she got into the garden, the stranger the plants became. They were larger, more exaggerated, almost cartoonish versions of their forms. A bush bloomed with purple roses the size of a fist. The limbs of trees ached with strange unnamable fruit. There were lilies as tall as a person. Evie took no notice, wondering where that man had gotten to. She should have caught up to him by now.Suddenly, there was a masculine cry of surprise down a garden path. Evie assumed BMW guy must have had an.
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