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speaking with the bartender.  
    The bartender starts to grab a bottle from the well, but she stops him and appears to ask for something else. I watch intently as he turns and grabs a bottle from one of the shelves behind him. Ah, she knows her alcohol. The bottle is filled with a clear liquid, so I'm guessing it's a vodka, but I can't tell for sure.  
    A group of men gather behind her as the bartender hands her a drink. It's a Cosmo. Of course it's a Cosmo. She seems too loose for a stuffed-shirt-type drink like a martini.  
    I notice that her wings are more visible tonight, and below them there is something on her lower back trying to peek out from the top of her skirt. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.  
    She takes a few sips and starts to turn around, sans drink. I watch as her head bobs up and down to the music that's playing. As she places her elbows onto the bar the song ends and Scott Stapp's "Great Divide" starts to play.  
    My shoulders slump. "All right, Mum, I get it," I mutter under my breath. It couldn't have been a clearer sign if a spotlight suddenly shone on this beautiful woman.  
    I take in the head-to-toe image of her. Her skin is pale and in stark contrast to the black of her hair, which is jet black with electric blue streaks running through it. Her makeup is bold: fire engine red lipstick, soft eye colors with bold mascara and eyeliner. Her features are soft, but she has well-defined cheek and jaw bones. Her bangs are short and cut straight across, curled into her eyes slightly. She reminds me of a pinup model from the thirties or forties.  
    She has a strong hourglass figure with wider shoulders and hips but a small waist. She is well-endowed in the chest. This has my attention for a multitude of reasons, one being that she knows how to accent her best feature, and two, I can see her nipples under her halter top. It was clear from looking at the back of her dress – or rather the lack of one – that she's not wearing a bra. But now I see that her nipples are rock hard. And there's something...is that...?  
    "Holy fuck, her nipples are pierced." My breathing spikes. Then my eyes finally slide down the contours of her stomach. Her hips are curvy and soft. Her legs are sheathed in sheer black, lace top thigh highs that are peeking out under her skirt. Her legs are sleek and toned.  
    As I take her in, I watch one man after another approach her. And one after another, she is quickly and effectively shooting them down. She turns and orders another drink.  
    Now one of the banker-looking dudes who made a show at looking her up and down starts talking to her. She looks at him and smiles. The smile is like turning on a light bulb, bright and friendly. I grind my teeth together in irritation. The gentleman turns to the bartender and points to her glass.  
    "It's already full, you idiot," I hear myself say. Whoa, where did that come from?
    The bartender is speaking to him and he turns toward her. His eyes are wide and she is visibly shaking with laughter at his reaction. Quickly he ducks his head and scampers off with his tail between his legs.  
    "What the bloody hell is that all about?" I mutter.
    I'm completely baffled by this woman. What has these men turning away? "What is it about you?" I say quietly. I need to talk to her somehow. But how? I'm not sure I know how to approach a girl, especially one that has turned down just about every man in the bar. She has an air of confidence that I know can be intimidating to a man, but the last guy appeared to be buying her a drink. I need to figure out an opening line, or maybe buy her a drink. Maybe it's the price of the drink that is turning the men around. Though this hotel is not cheap, so you would think that most of this crowd would be able to afford her drink.
    Just then, she turns to her left and catches me looking at her. A puzzled look crossed her features as she studies me. Then she smiles, wide and beautiful, raises her glass and tips