I nodded, smiling. “Thanks.”
Milli walked away from me and I started to make my way around the room, keeping my eyes out again for any woman I thought I could have a nice conversation with while I waited for Milli. My mind was geared towards work, so I wouldn’t bring anyone home with me tonight, but a phone number or two for a later connection wouldn’t be too bad. It was the perfect spot to find someone too, given the clientele. Haughty women were my favorite because it was extra satisfying to break them and make them scream out for more. Hell, if I was lucky, I’d find two or three worth looking into.
I walked around the party, scanning the party goers for someone who piqued my interest. Many women went out of their way to greet me, ask me if I wanted to get a drink or dance, but I didn’t want to land on anyone in particular until I’d chosen a specific target. Several women were dancing, but I thought I was better off scanning the bar for someone hanging out alone or only with other friends. I spied a few interesting parties and started making my way over when I saw something that froze me in my tracks.
She was easily the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life, including the foray of celebrities I’d met in my life.
She had long red-orange hair flowing down her back, and her cheeks were sprinkled with freckles. She had plump lips, the bottom slightly thicker than the upper, giving her a permanent pout. Her eyes were green and sparkled in the overhead twinkling lights. She was wearing a floor-length black dress that covered her chest up to her neck but had two slits up the legs and her slim arms totally exposed. She was slender but had delicious curves and sat at the bar with uncaring confidence, like she knew she was beautiful, but still didn’t want to be bothered. She actually set my heart to racing, something I rarely experienced in my life.
She was perfect.
Slipping to the side where she couldn’t just look over and see me, I kept my eyes on her for a moment. As a businessman and a mobster, I knew no one should ever approach someone without notes. She had a wine glass balanced in her hands, holding it by the stem and not the basin, so she was dignified, but she was swirling it more than she was drinking it, so she was likely pretty stressed out. A time or two, she ran her hand through her hair, resetting the part from one side to the other, but her hair would always eventually flow back to where it was. She was like a perfectly drawn design. I couldn’t find a flaw in her.
Watching her, I saw many men approach her, but she was turning them down left and right. They tried every trick in the book—just looking to talk, just wanted to ask her a question, pretending to network, bumped into her by accident—but for every excuse they tried, she had a quick response. She was obviously used to turning men down,and with an atmosphere around her like that, it didn’t surprise me. She was very cordial and polite, but it was hard to get a read for her type with her turning every guy that talked to her away. It was clear she wasn’t swayed by money or power, as men with copious amounts of both sought her out.
Was I stupid for assuming she didn’t have a boyfriend?
I noticed when she set her wine glass down on the bar, she quickly slipped her hand over the top. While she flipped through her phone, she’d look up briefly glancing around every few seconds. Smart—she was a careful person, just like me.
Unfortunately, it was becoming increasingly clearer that I wasn’t going to be able to just walk up and ask for her number. Any of my typical tries weren’t going to work either, and I bet she’d even had guys pretend to ignore her and wait for her to say something first. I imagined if I sat next to her and never said anything for an hour, that we wouldn’t speak for an hour.
The challenge brought a smile to my face.
Finally, knowing I wasn’t going to get anywhere just standing and watching, I decided to approach. She was at a seat near the end of the bar, so I sat at one a few down from her and totally disregarded her for the time being. The bartender finished up dealing with the guest he was serving, then he came down to where I was and smiled.
“Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?” he asked.
“Do you have a Chablis?” I asked. “Imported not faked.”
The bartender nodded. “Of course, sir.”
I saw the woman to my left side-eye me. I took a risk on guessing she was French, she looked very similar to the women I’d seen on my many trips there. The request for that specific wine did seem to pique her interest, but after looking briefly, she turned her attention back to her own drink and continued to disregard me. Exactly as expected, she certainly wasn’t going to start up a conversation with me, but the way her gaze was lingering on me, occasionally flitting over to me as I waited for my drink, it made me feel that if I could just start any conversation with her, I might succeed where others had failed.
Finally, the bartender returned with my wine, setting the glass on top of a napkin in front of me. “Can I get you anything else?”
I lifted my glass to him and sighed. “This is a good start. Parties like this are so pretentious and lame. I’d rather not do them at all.”
Two seats down from me, I noticed the woman crack a small smile, making her already radiant face a little brighter, but I tried my hardest not to focus on her.
“Yes, sir. I understand. You seem like the type who would work a room at this kind of event,” the bartender said.
“I suppose if I was at all interested in conversing with the sort of fake people floating around.” I took a sip of the wine. “Why do you think I came over here? You’re likely the only person who isn’t going to lie to my face.”
Thankfully, that did it. The woman a few seats down from me blew air out of her nose before looking over and lifting an eyebrow. “You’re a rare breed at a networking event.”
I looked over at her, let my eyes drift up and down her form so that she knew I’d taken stock of her appearance, and then locked my eyes into hers and smiled. “My architect designed the place, but I’d be stupid to let him come here.” I shrugged. “He’s a bit of a brute.”
She nodded knowingly. “A forced attendance. I thought I was the only one.” She turned to take a sip of her drink and I used that moment to give the bartender a ‘get out of here’ look, which he understood and walked away. Resting her head on top of her hand now, she looked back at me. “So, what’s your game plan? Do a quick trip around the room, make sure enough people see you, take at least two photos that will end up on the internet, and leave within an hour.”
My smile grew. “Wow, that’s smart. No. My plan was to sit here begrudgingly for the next three hours hoping that something strikes me down to save me from my misery.”
She laughed. “Helping people work the room in a short period of time is something I’m rather skilled at.”
“If that’s the case, why are you still here with such an expression of pleasure on your face?”
“Because my job is helpingotherpeople work quickly. I have to stick around and make sure they can get the job done.”
“Thatisunfortunate,” I replied. “I’m sorry for that.”
