Knight of a Trillion Stars Read Online Free Page B

saying, “Wait until you taste this! I bet they don’t have good greaseburgers where you’re from.”
    With this endorsement, Lorgin eagerly took the bag and dug in. The horrified expression on his face said it all. Forcing himself to swallow, he looked at her aghast. His voice bellowed in the confines of the closed automobile.
    “Are you trying to poison me, woman!”
    Deana winced, supposing that with an undiscriminating palate, anything was possible. “Would you like me to get you something else? How about a frozen yogurt?” she offered placatingly.
    He looked wary. “What is that?”
    “Soured milk from an animal, chilled—” She stopped when he visibly shuddered.
    “Never mind. I am not hungry. Your driving has taken care of it.”
    Cross the universe and men were all the same! Blaming all of life’s misfortunes on women. “Okay. Have it your way.” She chuckled at her pun to which he was totally oblivious.
    Of course, she finished her meal, being careful to exclaim over the delights and nuances of the combined flavors to him. Lorgin did not seem to appreciate the critique.
    The mall was another story. Here, he was entranced, turning in a 360-degree circle, enraptured by the three tiers of consumer paradise.
    “Surely, it is like a city!” He marveled, gawking. By no coincidence, people were gawking at him. Taking him by the cape, she led him to the nearest department store.
    Lorgin, stopping at almost every counter, was amazed at the sheer number of choices of apparel, the materials andcolor combinations. Perhaps they’d be out of here by midnight, she silently fumed. Thankfully, the men’s department was fairly close to the door.
    After a long and tortuous argument, Deana managed to get him into a pair of Levi’s 501’s, button fly. Button fly, because the man turned that same shade of green he had in the car when she demonstrated zipper action to him.
    There was a sticky moment or two when he walked out of the dressing room with a jeweled dagger stuck in the waistband of the jeans. Deana thought the salesclerk was going to faint. She rushed over to Lorgin.
    “Where did you get that dagger?” she hissed.
    “It has been in my family for sixteen generations.” As if that answered her question!
    “Why didn’t you leave it in the dressing room?” He looked at her as if she had a gear loose. She gave up and walked away, praying the salesman wouldn’t call security.
    They ended up with three pairs of assorted jeans, three long-sleeved shirts, and various sundries. Her credit card was not happy. He looked over her shoulder while she was paying the bill.
    “What is your token of exchange?” he curiously asked.
    “Hmm? Oh…plastic,” she answered distractedly while signing the receipt. She happened to look down at his feet and, noticing his piratical boots, felt another expense coming on. Deana sighed resignedly, knowing she was going to have to spring for some shoes as well.
    She brought him to the shoe department, intent on getting him a pair of Nikes. He had other ideas. He headed straight to the boots, picking up an expensive pair of brown Tony Lamas.
    “I will have these.”
    “No, you won’t either,” she firmly responded.
    “Do you not think these go well with these Leave-eyes I am wearing?”
    “Yes, they’re dynamite, but—”
    The salesgirl walked over, interrupting her. “Can I help you?”
    Lorgin turned to her. “We will take these. She has plastic.” The salesgirl looked at her.
    “Wrap ’em,” she mumbled, feeling like a gigolo’s favorite patroness.
    When they finally got back home, Deana flopped down on the sofa, exhausted beyond words. She was beat. Really beat. What a day! She had gotten fired, sat in God-knows-what, got rained on, got caught in a traffic jam, been rejected three times, and, as if that weren’t enough, sponged on by a mooch of an alien knight who claimed he was protecting her from household appliances. She’d laugh if she wasn’t afraid