His ice-blue eyes drew you in, duped you, or lifted you up like a leaf caught in a fall breeze.
He was, the ultimate salesman, a philanderer, a gambler who played gin.
He let me win.
Working on something about my grandpa Frank. Trying to get at the idea that while he was a player and probably a bit selfish, he was kind to me, his granddaughter. Not sure it’s working quite right but will keep at it. He had the most awesome eyes so was trying to work that in somehow.