Joining the Italian, sharkskin suit on the beach, Darla handed him a glass of red wine. "If you could be anywhere," she asked to keep him from whining about what a torment his job was. As if he knew anything about real torture.
His eyes lit up. "Big wave surfing at Maverick." As he rambled on, she thought, he's not trying to impress me at all. This truly is his heart's desire.
She slipped into vamp face. "Poor boy, full of dreams but you've lost all your time."
As the glass slipped from his hand, its wine stained the sand.