Disclaimer: I do not own Love in the Afternoon, but this is my story on what goes on after Mr Flannagan drove off to the airport that first time. Enjoy :)
Driving away from Hotel Ritz, Paris had always been easy before, why was it so hard now? Especially if there was a guy who wasn’t misinformed about his wife who was going to shoot him if he ever figured out the truth. He should be glad to be leaving. Yet there was that girl, he couldn’t call her a woman, for she looked much too young for that. She was so tiny too, he was so afraid to break her when they were together. He really would have to figure out her name.
All the concierges lined up for their tips, always wanting something from him because he had money, therefore he had power. It was how things worked, and so he was generous about it. Yet she didn’t want anything expensive from him, something small, something she could have picked up herself all of a block away. A flower. His flower. And that’s why she wanted it. It was the first time that he had ever given anything away that was really personal. It surprised him how much he enjoyed seeing the look on her face over this one little white flower, compared to lavishing her in jewels from Cartier’s like he had so many other women. They all had a different look in their eyes, a come hither look. A look that said that they knew what they wanted, and how he can give it to them.
She didn’t have that look. He couldn’t figure out that look, but I he had to describe it, he would have said that a year’s worth of pleasures were compressed into her eyes. It should have made him want to run away, it should have made him want to hide. Instead it made him want to stay longer and figure out what else he could give her, if she would only show him that look again.
Opening his book with his list of women, he made a note of the flower he gave away, a white carnelian, and went to write down her name, only to realise he still didn’t know it. Instead he wrote down Thin Girl, A, and left it at that. Despite what she said, he would defiantly be seeing her again when he returned toParis.
They had finally arrived at the airport, and he slid out of the car. Looking through his pockets for money to tip the chauffer, he found the hat that Thin Girl had given him. She had said that he would know the stewardess, and looking over at her as she was walking onto the plane, he let the mysteries of Thin Girl be pushed to the back of his mind, as he got to know the stewardess.
