Preston Forest Shopping Center
Early Spring evenings means the 'indoor activities' begin to run down and the 'outdoor' begin to come alive. As a result, the mall isn't quite as active and busy as it could be. Still, the shops are still doing good business as it is, after all, still as 'safe' place for parents to drop their teenagers off and pick them up later. These are the teens with money behind them rather than the general riff-raff, and even better for the merchants, teens that are more than willing to part with their parents' money.
Brett Coleman stands at one of the center planter areas, a brown paper shopping bag with jute handles sitting on the marbled floor beside him. He's talking with an older, grey-haired woman, and to see the two, it is a pleasant conversation.
"Yes, ma'am… if only.."
"… impressed… considering your proposals.."
Snippets of conversation carry thanks to the accoustics of the building, but just not in any consistant fashion.
Shopping is not just left for money-enhanced teenagers. For Summer? It's a favored pastime that very generally leaves her pocketbooks a little bare. It's been many years since she's actually gone so far into debt as to be considered a shopaholic, except that she is still a shopaholic.
What determines this? The fact that every night this week, since things have been slow at the Cerebral Deli, she's been out shopping. Warmer weather is coming, and clothing will be needed.
Tonight, she's actually looking for something specific. Real, Texan cowboy (girl?) gear.
This has been easy enough to find, but finding something that isn't cheap is very difficult. Cheap things like pleather just won't do. She wants authentic. So she's hit up every shoe shop in the mall, until she reaches one that's actually not too far from where Brett and his companion are seated.
A pair of white leather cowboy boots are slipped off, and she nods to the clerk. "I'll take them. The black pair too." She would get a red pair as well, but trying to find somewhere to wear the red ones would be far too difficult.
As she waits for the shoe boxes to be brought back to her she peers outside the store. Spotting Brett, she waves in a friendly manner.
Brett's posture with the woman is nothing if not deferential. Clearly, in some regard she is either a superior, or, well.. it could simply be manners. His mother had insisted when he was young…
Catching the motion from the corner of his eye, he excuses himself for a moment before he acknowledges the wave with a smile and a wave of his own. The lady he's with smiles indulgently and puts a hand on his elbow, her lips moving in what is probably a farewell, and the pair part company.
With the lopsided smile in place, Brett is free to pick up his bag now, the side emblazoned with a dark green, eco-friendly looking advert from a men's store within the complex, and cross the distance that lays between them. "Miss Summer," is given in greeting when he gets close enough not to have raise his voice. "Good evening." He stops at the entrance and peers in briefly, "I see you've taken the evening off."
"Things generally slow down once the weather gets nicer." Not that the weather is ever really all that horrible in Dallas, but the mindset is generally different in the warmer months. "When the heat hits epic numbers it'll be busy again."
The salesperson returns with the boxes, and Summer moves toward the counter to pay for her purchases. "Besides, I had to get some dancing shoes." After paying the clerk, she turns to smile at him.
"I see you have one of the Earth Day bags."
"And surgery isn't on a Friday night. Pretty clever. Good to know." Brett grins and nods, "The heat'll come in a couple of weeks, I think. Rains. So, we might as well enjoy what we have now."
Brett follows Summer to the counter for her purchase. Her explanation of what it is she's buying brings an even broader smile to his face. "Good. We're on then. The truck is fixed and ready to go, or we can take my car. Not anywhere near the 'cowboy' feel to it, though." Brett doesn't necessarily -look- the part of a rough and tumble cowboy, but in Texas—
Waiting for the transaction to complete, Brett holds his hands out to carry Summer's bags in his free hand. Lifting his paper bag, he shrugs offhandedly, "It's what they had. They're actually pretty good as garbage bags. They don't fold up when you put them on the floor. I'm fixing up a new place, and I'll pretty much take anything that's convenient." He sets it on the ground again, and yes.. by nature of the bag, it retains its shape rather than collapsing in. "But, if people want to think I'm 'eco-friendly'," his tones supply the quotes, "then sure. Fine."
Pointing to the pager on her hip, she shrugs. "If they need me, they'll page me back into the clinic. It was quiet there today too, thankfully." Two days of quiet in a row? That generally means Saturday will be absolutely insane.
"Sounds great. Whichever you want to take is fine, or I can meet you there, though knowing my luck I'd get unbearably lost." There's no shame as she speaks. Summer is good at a great many things. Were she headed somewhere on foot? No problem. Driving out of a known area though, and she'll be at a gas station with maps for hours.
"You do —" Shaking her head, she offers the bags out to him. "Why, thank ya, Mister Coleman," she says, with her best faux-Texas drawl. "That's mighty nice'a y'all."
Unable to keep the accent up too much, she cants her head to the side. "A new place? Not a lot of stuff from your old place?"
<RP> Mischa is looking for RP.
All channels have been gagged.
"Well, let's hope for a quiet Saturday. I'd feel guilty about taking you out dancing the night away and you were dead on your feet." Brett chuckles, "In a manner of speaking."
Nodding decisively, he gestures with his paperbagged hand towards the door of the establishment. No idea where to next, but it doesn't much matter. He's in good company. "I," his voice lowers, "get horribly lost, too. Unless I know exactly where it is I'm going. Thankfully, I know where the Stockyards are. But don't ask me, say, where the Water Gardens are. I'd get turned around so quick.." Thankfully, there's no temper with the loss of 'control', as it were. "But, I'd like to introduce you to my truck. Yes, it sounds sort of crazy, but there's something about you that makes me thing you'd understand."
Taking the bags, Brett has to laugh. He has a Texas accent, or what out-of-staters would call something of a 'drawl', but Summer's theatric put-on almost makes her sound— "If you're not careful, I'll be calling you Miss Scarlett." Not that he doesn't call her 'Miss Summer' anyway?
Brett shrugs slightly again and looks to the side at his companion for the evening (hopefully!). "Bought a new place in Oak Cliff. The plaster is falling off.. so I could use a few more bags like this paper one," he holds it out in gesture, "to throw the pieces away. Plastic is a pain in the neck."
"I'll grab a nap beforehand if it is." Summer's technically supposed to have a light shift, but there's no telling what will happen if there's a lot of emergency calls.
Speaking of getting lost, she spins around to glance at the stores around them. "Over here." It's not the most upscale place in the world, but then again one doesn't really need to be upscale when looking for a blouse and jeans.
"It doesn't sound crazy. Toby does that too." Talk about his vehicle as though it were a person. "If my car actually liked me at all, I'd introduce you to it, but as it is it's spiteful." Likely, she needs a new one, and is just being too stubborn about getting it.
"Too much Georgia Peach, not enough Texas Oil Tycoon?" Laughing, she steps into the shop. "Well, golly, Mister Coleman. Ah do declare!" Done with her theatrics, she just grins and starts to look around the first few racks by the shop.
"Why not just rent a shop bin from one of the hardware stores?"
"Great. That'll go a long way for my guilt."
Brett watches as Summer does the navigational spin; he does exactly the same thing, even in a mall. He knows exactly what she's doing because he does it himself; taking stock of the stores that she can recall passing, then working out which side she'd come in on before determining the direction she still needs to go. He's more than happy to be led. Blind leading the blind, and all. And it really is attractive on her.
Brett laughs, the amusement easily reaching blue eyes. "Well, that's not good. Spiteful. Maybe you should find something that you get along with better? Something that'd take you to the four corners of the earth and not give out on you until you're safe and sound at home?" Clearing his throat the moment he caught what that sounded like, he quickly moves on to that next, "Never too much Georgia, Miss Summer." And he's back, offering up his own theatric-sounding accent. "I showr 'nuf think that you maht actually have it.."
Brett follows behind. He's far enough away that he couldn't be confused for a 'designer' type, and close enough to establish that he's 'with' her, in her company. Obviously, he hasn't gained the 'put upon' look that otherwise happily married men get when forced into serva— shopping, which then tags him as.. well, potentially on a date?
"Renting a shop bin would mean that I could see my work progress slowly. It's a game I play. I fill up a bag and it makes it look like I've done something. Then, I can turn around to Cor and say, 'I took out five bags yesterday!', and he'd…" Brett grins, "… shake his head at me and do more work and actually get it done."
"I like to call those my feet," Summer replies. She would wiggle her toes if they weren't in a pair of rather expensive Manolo Blahnik's. "I've never been fond of looking for vehicles either. I just want something that will get me from point A to point B. No bells, no whistles. Maybe air-conditioning." Her brow wrinkles a little. She'll find something eventually.
At his own theatrical take on the accent, she laughs. "Community theatre here we come?" She's never really gotten in to anything like that but it could be fun, someday.
"You could rent a really small shop bin?" There really aren't any small ones, and that's the joke. "I have to say… I'm really rather jealous of you and your brother." She takes a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. "I would have killed to have a sibling, but Toby never remarried after mom died."
"We'll find you something," Brett promises. "That is, if you want. If you want to keep Christine, that's okay, too." An obvious reference to Stephen King's horror novel about a car from hell.
He laughs at the thought of theatre. "Summer theatre through the rec department?" He honestly hadn't given it any thought, but if she's seriously considering it, there is that cardinal rule of smart men. The number one thing they like is… 'whatever she likes'. And if it's to be theatre in the summer, well, it could very well be fun.
The smile lingers after and nods his agreement. "A really small one." Yes, he knows they don't make them either. Mores the pity, really. His gaze follows her, and he notices the .. momentary regret that flickers, and nods. "We've always been close, Cor and I. Then again, mom and dad have always been great. Raised us right, I think. He's a built in best friend, and when I moved here, he did too. Not because he was doing the 'little brother' thing, but because there was more opportunity up here in the Metroplex than in Houston, believe it or not. It just happens that I'm here too, and we promised our parents we'd watch out for each other." And recently, Corey's expressed the concern over the fact that a coyote could be easily mistaken for a big black wolf by people who are just plain scared. "With the wolf attacks, Cor's been.. concerned." Not a lie, certainly. "But we both make a point to check in every once in awhile. Like, I'll let him know I'm leaving Dallas this weekend so he knows." That whole 'full moon' thing moreso than overprotectedness. "He won't want to hitch a ride, though."
A gentle shake of her head, and a chuckle. "I don't think it's quiiiite as bad as Christine, but I should start looking before it gets on its last legs." Summer's had the same car for about ten years now, and it wasn't exactly brand new when she got it. It's seen quite a bit of wear.
"I doubt I would honestly have time for it, though I should talk to the rec center or one of the universities and see if a play can be set up with the proceeds going to the animal shelter."
Summer's expression becomes a great deal more serious at that. "See, that's what I miss about not having a sibling. But I've got Toby, and he's great. I've always been able to talk to him about anything, and while it's not as wonderful as having a built in best friend, I guess it's the next best thing."
The mention of the wolf attacks just has her brow furrowing much more. "I think everyone is concerned. Toby and a few others are actually going out to try to hunt it down this weekend." In their shifted forms, which should make tracking the creature all the more easy. "I don't mind if he wants to join us. It could be fun."
Finding a nice white blouse, she looks it over once, then again. Since she's only carrying her purse, she drops it to the ground and shrugs the shirt on over her halter. Stepping in front of the mirror, she turns to face away from it, then looks over her shoulder.
"Up to you," on both counts. Car, and theatre. Brett's good with taking his marching orders.
Working his way back, his head cocks, and he has one of those 'okay, I'm going to ask a dumb question' looks on his face. "Toby is your father." There. Statement rather than question, so it's not quite so bad? "He's a great guy." And a person with whom Brett hopes to cultivate a good relationship. "The way you sound, can't go wrong there."
He knows he's lucky to have a good brother, though. At the mention of going after the wolf, his ears perk slightly, and his brow creases. "Cor? If he goes, I go. He's my little brother, after all." Though of the pair, Corey is the more athletic. Not in shifted form, however. There, Brett's got him, if only on size, and potentially speed. "When and where?"
Falling silent, if only for a moment, Brett watches Summer try on the blouse over the halter, grateful for the fact that she didn't hand her purse over for him to hold. Though, truth be told, he personally believes that she could wear a potato sack and she'd still look good in it.
"I'll think about it," on both counts. Car, and theatre. Both are rather big commitments, and she'll have to budget her time… and her money.
"Toby? Oh, yes. He is. I thought that was obvious." Summer twists a bit to look over her other shoulder. She frowns. Then she reaches to the front of the blouse, and instead of buttoning it, she ties it up mid-torso, so that the knot hangs just below her bust.
"Mmm. Better, I think." Untying it, she nods, and then removes the shirt, dangling it over her arm. "When and where? For the hunt? I'm not sure. The twenty-fourth, I think… but I have no clue where Mister Donato, that's Toby's friend, means to start out from." There's a slight pause and she turns to look directly at Brett. "Oh god, tomorrow's the twenty-third, isn't it?" That's going to make things so… awkward. Especially if Toby was correct in his assumption.
"Sorry.. I don't like to make assumptions. He could be a kindly gent that took you in out of the kindness of his heart, and he's got one, for sure." If the fact that his deli is just so.. comfortable feeling is any indication of the man. And, again, the glowing words coming from Summer helps a great deal.
Brett smiles at the slight change in the style; nothing wrong with that look. The dance hall gets warm, and.. well.. it's a cool way to wear the shirt.
"The.. twenty third, yes." Yes, he's more than aware that it's the weekend, but the date of the hunt sets off bells and whistles in his mind, obviously. First, "Miss Summer, I'm not entirely sure you should be out looking for it on the twenty-fourth with them." Sure, she's a Vet, and her expertise as far as animals are concerned is quite useful, but if what he was hearing was correct, there are some… inherent dangers. "I mean," how to word this.. "I know you're a vet and all, and more than able and capable of handling yourself normally, and that you'll have a whole pack of people around to keep you safe, it's just that.." Brett is pretty sure he's failed, and exhales, "I'm sure we'll all do fine and would sleep better if you didn't go. Maybe?" Unless Toby wanted her to accompany them…
"I'm not going out hunting with them. I tend to, well it's a standing…" Summer smiles in a grim manner. "I've got plans with Mischa." Not entirely the truth, but not at all a lie either. "Mister Donato was in the marines or something. The army maybe? He's a military man. I'm sure he can take out a decent group of men that know what they're doing." The smile brightens a little as she moves toward him so that she can pick up her purse and pay for the shirt. To be on the safe side, she grabs a black one as well — same style, same size, different color.
"But I really do appreciate the concern, Mister Coleman. I'll help them if they manage to tag it, but chances are they won't find her anyhow."
Whew.
That's short-lived, however, as he learns of her plans with her declared boyfriend. Ah well. Though it does uncomplicate things for him. Now that he's aware there is a hunting party, he'll be free to hang to the side, shift into… well, he's got choices. Bloodhound, maybe? Those big floppy ears, though.. it'd be a pain if he stepped on them.
No need to decide right at this moment.
The smile offered as she neared him, if only to retrieve her purse brought the smile back to his face and watches her as she reaches for the second, the one in black.
"I just really wouldn't want to see you hurt, Miss Summer." The feeling is certainly genuine. "And I'm glad that you'll be.. busy elswhere." Even if it is with her boyfriend..
Full moon. Boyfriend. It's not like she can come right out and say, "Sorry, full moon that night. I'll be busy!" Boyfriend just makes more sense.
"Besides, even if I wanted to go, Toby won't let me. I get too erm… I suppose the right word would be involved?" She grins, pulling her wallet out of her purse and meandering up to the cash. "We used to go hunting when I was younger. I think I put him to shame with my ability to find prey more efficiently and swiftly than he can." Coyote hunting skills can do that for a woman.
Well, it'd make him feel a whole lot better if she could, but obviously..
Still, Brett Coleman is nothing if not.. stubborn? Gracefully tenacious? More than willing to wait?
All of the above.
"Smart man," Brett obviously concurs with her father. He laughs, the smile turning lopsided, "I would think you would at that, Miss Summer. Just by the fact that you were talking about tagging that big black thing rather than what the hunters would actually want to do with it tells me a lot about you." And none of it bad.
Following Summer, Brett puts the bags down and reaches for his wallet. "Let me? I'm taking you out, so let me get this?" Not as if he's got much to spend his salary on. He's pretty spare with groceries, and his car and truck are paid for. No rent, but there is the mortgage, but that comes out to less than what rent would be. And, as he's never home, there's the electricity down! "Please?"
Brett laughs soon after, "Hunting. With a rifle or a camera?"
Summer, sadly, meant involved with the hunt. Yet the other does apply as well. She would much rather tag the beast and try to reform whomever it is, rather than kill it outright, despite what Donato said at the meeting. "I grew up rescuing animals. So while a part of me hopes they catch it, I hope they bring it in alive."
There is a shake of her head, and she protests, "It's hardly fair for me to let you do that, Mister Coleman. For one, I'll get much more use out of these shirts than one evening spent dancing. For another, we barely know each other yet and it just wouldn't be right." Though if he keeps on insisting, it would be a bit of an ease on her own pocketbook, so she'll graciously accept it.
"With my teeth," she says, chomping them at him in a teasing manner. Not a lie though! "Kidding aside, I would more often sneak away and tend to the wounded animals while Toby was out hunting. We used to go camping and hunting every month back home. We still try to do it as often as possible now, but with the shop and the clinic, it makes it difficult to get away for a weekend every month."
A grunt of acknowledgement comes in regards to bringing it in alive. Something has to be done, though. People are scared. And, well, he's a bit guilty with the fact that he could have been the one to push Mignonette Savoy over the deep end in regards to it all. Stupid dogs in the wrong place.. smelled him.. smelled the coyote, rather.
Brett doesn't really want to back down from the purchase. If she has to pick up a few things for their night out on the town in Ft. Worth, he's more than willing to foot the bill for it. "Really." Turning to the boutique cashier, he hands over his credit card and allows her to swipe it before it's handed back and safely put away once more.
He starts, the action somewhat theatric, to the chomping and laughs, his eyes gleaming. There is definitely something to this woman, that he's..
Huh.
Neither the time nor the place, however, so those thoughts are put aside, if only for the moment. "You'd treat their injuries, while your father hunted." He shakes his head, chuckling. Sounds like something a daughter who loved animals would do, and he could easily imagine it. "It's kind of important to get away, if only for a little while. Rest. Recharge."
The sales clerk hands Brett the receipt and a pen to sign, and he does so quickly before taking his copy, and then the purchase with the others, once it's bagged. "Thankfully, Cor and I get out, and we try to shoot for once every couple of months. I do like my privacy at times, and spend a lot of down time out in the Dallas Historic Village. Quiet at night, there."
When he doesn't back down, Summer starts to gnaw on her cheek. She's feeling guilty, and much like she's taking advantage of his generosity, and that she really shouldn't be. The whole while he's paying, she's busily looking away.
As he finishes, she goes to take the bag, but he's got that too. Shaking her head, she smiles at him. "Ever the gentleman, aren't you?"
"Injuries are important. I think that's honestly when I knew what my calling was. I would even go out on my own to the desert and collect snakes in the middle of the night." A dangerous thing for a young child to be doing, but she was never afraid of doing it. "Forever bringing home injured wild animals, forever taking care of them. It's why I love my work so much." To her, her work is a way to rest. Though at times working with animals is more than difficult. Especially around the moon.
"It's great that you guys get out. I haven't been camping since last fall, and I'd love to do it." Sitting in a tent while waiting for an outdoor concert is totally different. "I've never been there either. I suppose I'll need to start exploring more."
"Yes, ma'am.. it's the way my mother raised me." Brett isn't one to allow people to use him or walk over him, certainly. Not even attractive women. Everything he does, it's because he wants to, and he's got it in his head that 'lady' and 'woman' are two completely different creatures. Females are to be treated like ladies, until such time, that is, that they prove themselves to be simply.. women.
His brows raise in askance in the story regarding her going out for snakes, and he chuffs softly, shaking his head. "You must love your work. Of course, that also makes you better than a good number in your profession, I'd guess."
Summer's ease in considering a new place to explore brings his smile out, broader and on that lopsided side. Doesn't help in any attempt to look 'older' or more 'mature', mind. "It's best at night. That's when the ghosts come out. Like at the Millermore. Mrs. Miller is said to roam the upstairs, but her favorite room is the nursery."
They're from such different worlds, and in this it shows sometimes. He is a proverbial gentleman, and she's far too independent for her own good. Comes from raising yourself for a few years when your father's on a bender. "I bet your mother is a really nice woman with a good head on her shoulders. It's hard to find people these days with manners."
Were she the type to blush, this is where she'd be doing it. "I do love my work, and I love animals of all types. Not just the cuddly ones." There's something to be said for watching a lizard out in the desert, basking in the sun. A simplicity in it all.
"Ghosts, hmm? Do you actually believe in them, or just like the stories?"
With that, she's starting to walk out of the shop, obviously expecting him to come with her.
"She is," Brett grins and takes a moment to cough softly, his head turning away briefly before adding, "and I'm sure she'd be tickled to meet you." Not that he's going to bring her to Houston. Nope. Not yet, anyway. "You'd like them, my mother and father. Set in their ways, the two of them, and they wanted to be sure we understood it. Which is probably also why Cor and I are good friends." He grins, "Shared misery." Of course, Corey is as much a gentleman as he is, but a whole lot more of a ladies man, though not a 'dog'.
"Not just the cuddly ones. So," he cants his head, his tones taking a teason tenor, "are you in favor of the changing of the name of 'fish' to 'sea kittens' too?" PETA's been considering pushing that, and he'd picked that bit of information just along the way. "Not cuddly.. fish."
Bringing up a laden hand to gently guide and navigate Summer, and with her, himself out of the store, he's more than happy to remain by her side. "I've never seen one, I don't think, but I met a woman in the Village after dark who swore the place was haunted. After meeting her, I felt.. a warm breath at my ear, like a horse." He's dubious, however, and it shows. "Jury's out, I think." He pauses his words and looks to the side at her, "You?"
"Both your parents sound like real gems, Mister Coleman. If they're ever in Dallas, bring them by the shop. I'm sure they'd enjoy talking to Toby." She smiles as he goes to guide her through the mall.
"Heavens no. Fish are fish, and they shouldn't be called anything else. Sea kittens sounds like some sort of electronic pet device to get kids hooked on responsibility." Had Summer ever had one of those? She likely killed the poor thing by sitting on it.
"Like a horse? Could have just been a weird breeze or something lingering from earlier. That happens sometimes." Considering ghosts for a moment, she shakes her head. "Angels I might believe in, since I'd like to think my mother is up there keeping an eye on me, but ghosts? I've yet to see one, and as I think most of the stories come from overactive imaginations…" Shrug.
As they work their way through the mall, she leads him toward the Cerebral Deli. "My car's parked outside the backdoor of the shop if you don't mind cutting through? It's just generally easier for me to park there and not slip in through the mall." It saves her money that way too.
"Well, I'll be sure to bring them by," the promise is made. "Particularly if it means being able to stall them before they see my new place." And the general state it's currently in.
Brett follows Summer's lead through the mall, watching for navigation points that he can remember for later. "I don't mind at all. I'll see you safely out to your car and come back around for my truck once you're gone."
It's an easy comfort, and he finds himself stealing glances, his smile ghosting. It's a good night, indeed. "It could have been a thermal, sure. But, I know I'm with you there. I'm afraid that I have to believe in angels. Absolutely for your mother and that I'm sure she's watching out for you, but.. I'd like to think there's some sort of balance in the world. That there's a counter for vampires. Not that they're inherently.. evil. Just.." he winces, "kind of wrong. So, I like to think angels tip the scales back our direction and have a hand in keeping us safe." Not that shifters are on the menu, as admitted by vampires with whom he's acquainted.
"Toby would love that. It's so rare that he…" Gets to hang around with Shifters his own age? "… gets to talk to other parents." Summer laughs, happy that she's caught herself from saying too much.
"You know, if you get utterly lost, if you go through this service door," she points to one across from the Deli, "it should bring you back close to the bench you were on when we ran into one another." A few shops down, if she remembers correctly.
"I think inherently they are evil, it's just that some have more humanity than others that keeps them from being so." That's her own belief on vampires, and it's why she judges each as an individual, though on the whole she avoids them as much as possible.
"Thank you, Mister Coleman. I appreciate this." By now, they've reached the back door of the Deli. "Thank you again for the shirts." She'll find a way to repay him, somehow.
Brett laughs. "I'm sure they'd get along great."
Checking the way they'd came, it's Brett's turn to do the Mall navigation spin, more than happy to let any more vampire conversation die a natural death. As it is, he can't really find too much fault in her belief. They're creepy and they make the hair on the back of his neck go up, but.. each is a unique individual. Catching his gaze on familiar ground, he nods in the added information from Summer. "Great, okay. First, however," he looks back to Summer, "I'm walking you to your car. And making sure you're safely on your way before I go to mine." There are a few things he does insist upon. Dark, mall parking lots require an escort. "And you're very welcome. I'm looking forward to our trip out."
If he only knew that she walks out to her car every night on her own, he'd likely have a heart attack. Though as he's so intent on being the gallant knight, she'll allow it. "Thank you." Her car is about ten feet from the door, parked in the owner's parking space. Toby obviously walks or parks elsewhere.
"It will be fun, and I promise even if I get roped in to surgeries I won't be sluggish on the dance floor." Smiling, Summer stops at her car, and moves around back to pop the trunk for the bags to be put into it. "And thank you for carrying everything for me. I don't think you'll ever understand how much I appreciate that."
Placing the purchases into the trunk, and holding on to his, Brett makes sure that fingers are all accounted for before he closes the trunk and flathands it just to be sure it is locked.
"You're very welcome, again. And it is my pleasure." Brett's been told from Day One to escort ladies. Should anything happen that could have been avoided with his presence, he would be responsible. Not by law, but simply by.. moral code.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then." Brett's grin relights his face. I figure, just after sundown? Ft. Worth is close, so it won't be that bad. We'll have the whole night ahead of us." He'll wait for the answer, acknoledge it, then for her to start her car and drive off acknowledge it before turning around to head back into the mall to find the door that will lead to his truck. All in all, a great night.
