Oh. So she was French. Charlie had not been expecting that, and he slowly grinned at her questions. Well, well then. He'd had his Irish girls, his British, Welsh, and Scottish. German too, could now be checked off the list. If he continued at this current rate, he'd have all of Europe covered by new year.
"I am deeply impressed by your accent," and assests. Charlie shifted to a more comfortable position on the bar and waved his drink at her, "Though further demonstration could really make my night."
What was the point in being subtle? She was the one that was perking up her breasts and wearing that skimpy outfit to begin with. Charlie would avoid the obvious quip of being taught how to French kiss and stop wasting time. Of course, maybe her form of demonstration was to recite the French national anthem and some other boring shit, but when a girl was walking around looking like that, Charlie figured she wasn't too keen on talking.
"What've you got?"
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