Re: Near the Entrance
Samuel had been more than happy to take his leave from the bar, the conversation having descended into a sort of roundabout, pleasant but essentially meaningless bromancey chatter. He said his goodbyes as quickly as he could manage, descending from the high barstool with scandalously tall highball glass in hand, a single ice cube cooling a substantial measure of whiskey. No sooner had he turned to peruse the crowd for new blood than he saw her, striding into the door scandalously attired and astonishingly alone. It took him a moment to reach her, weaving and occasionally shoving through the crowd as he was, but when he did he wore a smile so boyishly bright it was as if their last meeting had never occurred.
"Imagine seeing you here," he said, beaming all the brighter as he cast an eye over her clothing - if it could indeed be called that. He gestured vaguely toward her. "Do you get a tax writeoff for that?"