“I’ve all the colors,” she said, grinning. “Pink for admiration, yellow for friendship, ivory for charm … Red for passionate love, of course.” He cast a look over his shoulder. “Which one?” “Any color. I adore them all.” l toyed with the long ends of his sweater-sleeves covering my fingertips. “Of course.” He cleared his throat and twirled a finger. “Turn around, then.” I obeyed. When he called my name, I turned to find him holding no less than a half dozen in an assortment of yellows and pinks and ivories. And reds. I hadn’t expected that color, but I hadn’t expected more than a single rose
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