Tilly Flower had chosen the location, a Western restaurant not far from his house in London.
When he got there, she was slicing her steak.
That was probably her lunch.
There was also a bottle of opened red wine to her right.
Seeing him approach, she put down her cutlery and smiled, asking, "Would you like something to eat?"
"I've already eaten," Trenton Smith walked over and sat opposite her, then raised his head to take a careful look at Tilly Flower.
She was wearing a red double-breasted, lapel wool coat with black straight boots. She crossed her legs, leaning back in the dining chair, her lips painted a light orange shade that made her complexion look especially fair. Her hair had been cut short and dyed a dull teal, and she wore a thin silver earring that glittered in and out of sight with her movements, looking both sophisticated and playful.
In the three years since her divorce from Sophia Phoenix, her fugitive life must have been thriving and wonderful.
