He gave Esmee the afternoon of the Queen’s birthday off. She didn’t deserve it, but she’d asked. Many times.
“I’ll accompany you,” he informed her.
She blinked. “Oh, you don’t have—”
He locked the shop door. “Come along.”
Esmee followed her boss, her eyes cast down.
Celebrants packed the square. A band played more loudly and with less talent. A woman spilled a pint down her blouse, shrieked, then laughed.
Esmee didn’t see the boys who’d been following them.
He stepped away and nodded.
The eggs flew with perfect accuracy.
He stifled a laugh. “See? We shouldn’t have come.”
Picture is by elm3r. (100 words)