“Of course I don’t, Kitten. I’d be fucking bankrupt if I bought every bird that walked through the door a bottle of Moët.” “So why me?” “Because I want to, and you always look so sad. That first time, when I gave the bottle to your friend, the loud one, Ashley, who works here. When you were drinking it, you smiled at me, and then you laughed and spilt your drink on your chin. And for a split second, you looked happy. I just wanted to see that spark in your eye again.”
