“There’s a couple of options there Antonio. Feel free to take your pick, shame about the yacht mine’s still in Monaco.” The old sport comment was hardly doing him any favours. Brian’s Britsh, not straight out The Great Gatsby. “A quickie would hardly be worth opening a Chateau Lafite Rothschild, no matter who you are. Tape or otherwise.”
❝ A crying shame indeed. You do realise, Lord Falsworth – be you a lord of stature or none – that I am many things, but I am not so easily swayed, even by the finest of red, even if aged to perfection. I consider a simple drink and casual affairs to be an extremely dated play of men who are deeply afraid of who they are meant to be. It reminds me of the not so fond times of gentlemen's club, where the finest of men would wear their ever so dapper suits – sip scotch and smoke cigars, only to take their lust driven needs to the quarters of a bathroom, car, or an expensive hotel for a single night. I am far more complex than those old men – and I welcome the future with open arms. Simply put… I am a man of romance. ❞
“Simply put, I have a large collection vintage wine and a father to disappoint. You’re welcome to join me, rumours are you can relate. A Lord might well be a new one even for you. Actions do speak louder than words and all that.”
❝ I sincerely hope, in regards to these rumours and relatability, you’re referring to how I am rather partial to a fine, aged wine, particularly if we’re on a yacht, old sport. Because if you were to be talking about my OTHER reputation, I can’t say I’m one for… How do you Brits say it… A quickie? Even though the tape that went viral on the internet may say otherwise… ❞
“This my number. Use it.” (//I’m sorry, so so sorry)
❝ I can appreciate a good pickup line. Now do you really want me to waste time tugging out my phone and dialing your number or would you rather just look me in the eyes and tell me WHY you’ve given me your number in the first place? Don’t be shy, you’re oh-so daring equipped with words as weapons.
❞
