She may be down in the dumps at the moment, but Chloe sure knew how to dress for the occasion.  In Anton’s eyes, her black dress looked more like lingerie than a garment to be worn out in public.  And he playfully told her so as she climbed into his Audi and buckled up.  Closing her door, he returned to the driver’s side while fiddling with his<i>AVK </i>cufflinks.<br/><br/>“You look real nice tonight, Chloe,” he said with a genuine smile.  “Though I still think maybe I should be dropping you off at the nearest<i>Victoria’s Secret </i>photo-shoot.”<br/><br/>“Ha!” she retorted with a laugh.  “I’ll have you know, mister, that this is a high neck lace sheath dress, designed by Eliza J.”  Now settled into her seat, Chloe watched the passing scenery, a melancholy enveloping her as she focused on hand-in-hand couples.  She then realized Anton had previously complimented her appearance.  “Why, thank you, Anton,” she finally said.  “I always thought you looked the best in suits, especially with the right tie, like this blue one.  It goes well with the navy blue suit and white shirt.”  She thought it best to not mention any underwear photos.<br/><br/>“Thanks, Chloe,” he replied.  “I figured with us going to a symphony, there was no way I’d wear a t-shirt and jeans.  Would look so outta place, and they probably wouldn’t allow me entrance, with or without a ticket.”  They both laughed, realizing there was some truth in that.  “And, uh, by the way, I wouldn’t know an Eliza J from an Eliza Q, so I’ll take your word for it.”<br/><br/>Chloe laughed anyway, while informing him, “Yeah, I really like her designs.  I think I have, like, five other dresses of hers.”<br/><br/>A few minutes of driving silence, and while the auto’s stereo played a random classic rock song (Aerosmith’s<i>Sweet Emotion</i>), he inquired, “So how you been doing, kiddo?”<br/><br/>Sighing heavily, Chloe responded, “Okay, I guess.  It just sucks to be alone.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, I know,” Anton said softly.<br/><br/>Eyes now wide, she turned toward him with both hands on his right arm.  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Anton.  I didn’t . . . I didn’t mean anything by it,” she pleaded.<br/><br/>Equal parts smile and frown etched on his face, he replied, “I know you didn’t, Chloe, and don’t worry about it.  It<i>does</i>suck to be alone, but even more so when you’ve kinda gotten used to having someone in your life.”  Anton reflected on Licorice.  “You ever think of getting a cat?  Or a dog?”<br/><br/>An embarrassed snort later, and she stated, “Yeah, um, I don’t do too good with plants<i>and </i>pets.”  Composure regained, she asked quietly, “Do you miss her?”<br/><br/>“Every day,” he said immediately, briefly looking into her eyes.  “Do you miss him?”<br/><br/>“I dunno, Anton.  I mean, I do, but then I remember how much he hurt me.  And, I just don’t know.”<br/><br/>He said nothing, as really, there was nothing to say.  The remainder of their journey was completed in silence.  Vehicle parked and opening her car door, he assisted in her extraction.  An offered right arm, and she accepted, just like Stella did.<i>Anything</i>to add to her happiness factor.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">&gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt;​</div><br/>Following concise instructions from an usher, the pair strolled down the aisle toward their seats, still arm-in-arm.  Anton noticed heads turning as they slowly continued their journey.  Yeah, probably checking out Chloe and her lingerie dress, he thought, already having forgotten her proper description of the dress.  Men are probably perving on her, while the women are jealous as all get-out.  He always enjoyed these inner, solo reflections.  Guaranteed to be dispute-free.<br/><br/>Seemed like they’d been walking a while, and the more steps taken brought them closer to the stage.  Damn, Anton was already impressed, and they weren’t even seated yet.  Ticket info matching up with the designated row, he allowed Chloe to seat herself first, while he was right behind her.  Both settled and nestling into their seats, she leaned toward him and said, “I’ve never sat this close to the stage before.”<br/><br/>“I know, right?!” he replied enthusiastically.  “I wish we had seats like this to a Pearl Jam concert.”  Before either of them could say anything else, an older woman in the second row and just to Chloe’s right, turned and glared at them.  When she faced front again, they turned to each other with shrugs, both clearly stifling laughter, as if they were schoolkids who’d just been busted by their teacher, yet remained unpunished.  Anton whispered in her ear, “I guess she don’t like Pearl Jam.”<br/><br/>Right hand rocketing toward her mouth for the sole purpose of laugh suppression, Chloe’s left hand whacked his right thigh.  He smiled that smile with no teeth showing.  His wink didn’t exactly help.  A few deep breaths later and the giggles seemingly gone, she inquired, “These seats, Anton, do you know someone or did you just luck out?”<br/><br/>“Yeah, uh, Stella,” he responded.  “Stella McIntosh.  She’s on piano.”  The same woman turned toward them again, though this time, there was no glare on offer from her.  She actually appeared to be impressed.<br/><br/>“You like her, Anton?” Chloe softly asked.<br/><br/>“Maybe,” he replied, with a fond grin.  She nudged him with her left elbow, while he in turn nudged her back.<br/><br/>The performance was about to begin.  As the curtains leisurely pulled apart, Chloe’s eyes ignited with wonder.