” “You told me you don’t like most guys,” Carson recalled. Armisen turned to look at him. “I don’t trust most guys.” Carson's heart flut...ered. “But you trust me?” “Sure I do,” said the man, running his fingers through Carson’s curly hair. “Why?” “You seem like a sweet kid,” he said, shrugging, tapping his cigar against an ashtray. “You’re a six-foot hunk of steel,” said Carson, almost laughing, unconvinced. “Why do you need to trust anyone at all? What are you afraid of?” “Listen,” Armisen. .. sure ... thank you” I replied.I loved her company, and the opportunity to spend a little more time with her was too good to miss.She showed me into the lounge room where I sat on the large lounge chair whilst she disappeared into the kitchen.“Is iced-tea ok? ... or would you like a beer?” she asked from the doorway.“Iced-tea ... thanks” I replied.She came back with two glasses, and sat beside me. We sipped at our drinks, setting them down on the coffee table in front of us.She explained a. Slowly he turned and walked over to the fireplace in the room. He touched the mantel, and a secret door opened. He moved slowly into the tight space and walked down the steep stairs that lead directly to the library. He stood in front of the panel, his hand just over the lever that opened the door. He could have sworn he could smell her from here. He adjusted himself, then opened the panel. He blinked at the bright light. He had lived in darkness so long, the sun was almost painful. He grunted. I looked over to the older man standing behind the bar with a curious grin on his face and told him that I didn’t, I was just thinking. He nodded his head and mumbled something about my being an American. From the look he gave me, it wasn’t anything bad, I had heard that many thought an American accent was fun to listen to, just as us Americans think a Scottish accent is in return. I picked up the phone and put money into the slot at the top and punched in the digits for her phone number. I.
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