Bruce paced up and down in his study which was adjacent to his office. He ruffled his hair excitedly.
Lyle had arranged for Mishka to come and sing at his house on the following Saturday.
“I hope she doesn’t think that I’m too wimpy or too arrogant to make my own appointment?” he questioned himself.
He looked into the gold-rimmed mirror hanging amongst the paintings and checked out his image.
“I don’t have anything to worry about, though. I know how she looked at me in the forest. She was just as impresses with me as I was with her,” he murmured at his image.
“But, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Remember what Lyle says. Date some models and so on and don’t become obsessed.
So, now I didn’t get to hear her voice properly this time. Will it sound the same indoors?” he asked himself with a deep frown.