[yes that's subtle - as is the slow smile that tips the corner of her lips upwards. it last a few seconds, and then it's gone, just as surely as she slips into the crowd.
she reappears at the bar, and pulls herself up to a stool close to his. orders up a drink. is she on a mission, or just pushing buttons - well who knows with these dames?]
[well now - her mother did teach her how to be polite and always say her 'thank you' and 'please' when they were due. (her mother did teach her other things as well, as long as she had been willing to learn - but she hadn't been willing often.)
so she turns in her seat, crosses her legs and taps the bar gently.]
Do I? [she lets the question hang for a moment in the air, then turns back to face the bar, and her drink. something pink and fruity and non-alcoholic enough to keep her aware of where she is and what she's here for. and that is - information, not schmoozing.]
Or do you see a lot of gals like me around, mayhaps?
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she reappears at the bar, and pulls herself up to a stool close to his. orders up a drink. is she on a mission, or just pushing buttons - well who knows with these dames?]
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so she turns in her seat, crosses her legs and taps the bar gently.]
That was kind.
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[ He tips his head toward her, though keeps his eyes trained on his glass, taking a small sip of it. ] You come here rather often, don't you?
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Or do you see a lot of gals like me around, mayhaps?
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[ There's a short, wry quirk of his mouth as he settles a cigarette between his lips, patting his chest to find his lighter. ]
But you don't work here.
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I'm not certain I'd call it that.
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[ At that, he cracks a small grin, though it fades into another swig of his glass. ]
You should be careful, around here.
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