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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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Bradley, of course, knew what she was saying was false. Not everybody disliked Bradley. He had that on good authority. Of course, some people really did dislike him. He was cool with that. You can't please everyone. Having enemies meant you stood up for something, that you changed something. Einstein or Gandhi probably said that. They were always saying things like that. Was a talent of theirs. And they definitely made enemies - the Brits in Gandhi's case, the church (probably) in Einstein's case.

He wished he had something to eat in that moment. Nothing would have agitated her more than calmly chewing on a tiny square of steak, nonchalantly masticating, during her tirade. Alas, he had no props, so just sat there, crossed arms, smile unflagging and unfaltering in the face of her unjustified abuse.

And hell, he'd had women before, so that final concluding statement was provably false. Not that he rushed to correct her. He knew that dissecting her remarks would be perceived as defensive, would be to grant her a win. "Bye babe" was all he said, and blew her a kiss, grin not breaking.

"Well." He turned to Alice, and smiled, hoping Georgia Lee would hear his parting remarks, but not too worried either way. "Looks like I'm the bigger man. Not to say she's a man." He stood up. "Would explain why she'd prefer I go in from behind." He paused, as if seriously contemplating that quandary. "Good day, Alice."

And with that, he left.

((Bradley continued on the island.))
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Swipe Rite · After the Dance