A is for Allegations


"You're gay, right?"

Vincent splutters into his coffee.

"I mean, come on. Long, soft hair, toned abs, tight leather trousers..."

He denies it, vehemently. How can she be so blasé about such an accusation?

She laughs and presses a finger to the tip of his nose in the gentlest possible way. It's like pressing a button, and all his anger dissipates like smoke.

"I was thinking you were too good to be true- hot and single? Gotta be gay."

He tosses his jet black head.

"You're still hot, though."

Just what is she accusing him of?