Agent Provocateur

Thanks a heap...You say the cutest things, Hunter Keyes. There are a small portion of members who aren't a part of the old timer's crowd, but you'll generally find us at the beach. We youngsters just come here for the bar...and the bartender. [Preston indicated a young man, the bartender in discussion, behind Hunter's shoulder.] What do you think? You've seen plenty of me. [He pulled her closer, returning her kiss from earlier.]

We could end any energy crisis! Hey, don’t leave me her- [She gasps, ducking under the water before breaking the surface with a laugh, splashing him as soon as he comes up.] I’m sure the club members just love us being here.

[He drifted closer, splashing her in return.] You bet your pert, little ass they do. They're a bunch of old men, us being here is the highlight of their geriatric day. Only a few of them are pervy, but they're mostly harmless.

Dani frantically tried to wipe the coffee off of her white silk blouse. “Does anyone have an extra tissue? Some nutter just spilled their coffee over me” she sighed, it wasn’t like Dani to stress out but today she was and she had no idea why. She just felt on edge and not knowing why made her feel a little more on edge. 

"You can use this," Preston didn't take his eyes away from his phone, but held out the monogrammed handkerchief that had been tucked into his suit jacket pocket. He was distracted by a message from his father that put a damper in his plans. "Damn," He proclaimed, finally looking up at the girl and realizing she was going to stain his handkerchief with coffee. "No!" He plucked the material from her grasp and then frantically tried to explain his actions. "I'm sorry, but I can't subject this to coffee, my grandmother had this made especially for me. It has my monogram."

She… found a way to not be afraid of leaving Deering. Or I smothered her with a pillow. Whichever is easier to accept.

Maybe she was right, though...I think we came back too soon. Lyss, I got this letter--who writes letters anymore? It's outdated and it wastes trees and--I digress. I got this really fucked up letter and it's messing with my head. I can't even enjoy being here.

I feel like we could fuel the world with our flare for flattery. 

I'm sure we could fuel the world with our hot sex.

You remember the Lyss that was afraid to leave Deering. There’s a difference.

Did you smother her with a pillow? What happened to her?

"Did you just call me, ‘little mama’?"

I don't really need to know your name, since you were just leaving, right? 

Sounds like you have a number of them under your belt. So, if I were to guess, you’d find me belonging to the suspicious sort? After all, you were rather aggressive about calling security. 

I tend to attract crazy people...[He gives her a once over before breaking out into a wolfish grin.] The last woman who walked in here alone was a reporter and she--[Preston stops himself, irritated at the memory of the woman harassing him about Aly's recent activities, pestering him for info on her relationship with Grace. He was on edge.] Never mind, look, I'm sorry, again. Welcome to the club, I'm Preston.

Flattery, Hunter, flattery. I'll be offended if you don't swim with me, seriously. I promise not to splash you, too much.

Oh, Los Angeles. If I could run across a field of daisies into your arms, I would.

Hmmm, I still remember the Lyss who didn't want to leave Deering...

Are non-members frequently attempting to sneak in? Sounds like you’re rather attached to the place if you’ve taken it upon yourself to ensure none of them sneak by without notice?

You would be surprised by the stories I could tell you about the people who sneak in. I only harass the suspicious characters, or the ones who are worth talking to. 

"Don’t touch me."

Relax, little mama. I didn't mess up your carefully tousled, blonde hair.