I try to argue time is valuable and that time is precious. Also, that we can never get it back, thus the wasting of time is foolish.
The sassy vixen with her fringe, who is successful in her own right, tells me I’m a dick. A dick because I’ve forgotten time is relative.
And that time is ultimately all in our minds.
She is not entirely wrong, and we debate the concept in length as I drive. We talk about amazing sunsets and how powerful they feel. Also, how amazing they appear.
The thing is, they happen over minutes. Not hours, and not days.
We then discuss, in contrast, the pain of waiting in queues for sporting events, concerts, or bars, or any kind of place.
I think her time-relative concept through, and even if I don’t like it, she is correct.
“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I say, driving us around a gentle bend.
“Well, get used to it,” Sam says, playing with the delicate and spectacular yellow bra she is now wearing.
“You just need to start living in the now, and not the future. You have done that long enough, and you have picked up bad habits. There is something else too.” I try to keep my eyes on the road. It is getting harder. Her finger on the bra is distracting, like her. “Faith.”
“What?”
“Faith! You’ve been so busy building for the future and trying to stay ahead, you’ve avoided the concept that things will work out fine, as long as you do this.”
“What?”
“Stay alert and simply keep an eye on things.”
We share a look, and she raises one of her sexy eyebrows. The thing is, it’s so fucking hot with her fringe.
“Babe. Have. Some. Faith.”
Sam leans over in the Bentley’s large leather seat and kisses my cheek.
“Things are going great, and there is no reason to imagine they won’t, right?” I am unsure about that, but things are going well. Heck, we are on fire. “And really, how much is enough?”
I drive up to the front of the chateau, and we get out with our bags and boxes of clothing.
“Look,” I say, doing a three-sixty. “I’m taking a break, and I am consolidating. I’m also now fucking shopping.”
Samantha laughs, and I can’t help joining in. It’s nice to take it easy, for once in my life. “That’s good because you deserve to live a little, babe.”
I nod and open the front door of the chateau for her. We enter with our large bags, boxes, and treats.
“So, are we good?” she asks as if it’s a real lesson.
I nod, and then I lift her fine chin. “Did you make that up then, or did you practice it?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes,” I say, meaning it.
“A mix,” she says before laughing and running.
I drop my boxes and bags on the marble steps and chase her up and into the chateau.
Finally, I catch her two stories higher and pin her down on the white marble steps. I then tickle her, hard. She squeals loudlyand high-pitched until I kiss her soft, sensitive stomach. She then slows and plays with my hair.
I decide to check on her yellow panties, and they look stunning under the denim skirt.
