The non smoking session was nearly filled. Tuesday nights were apparently snow crab nights and patrons had their plates piled high with large crab legs. In the center of it all was a butter dip that made Loras shudder to think what their arteries must look like. The petite, black haired hostess said something in garbled English, but Loras understood she was asking him if he'd like to sit at a long table that was already occupied.
"No," he answered gracefully, then gestured to the bar. "May I sit there?" The hostess smiled prettily and flushed, nodding. Loras led the way, sitting on a far end. It was easier to be left alone whenever there was a corner close by. A few stools down was a woman, then further on was a man who was hidden behind his menu. Loras ordered a water with a slice of lemon and a small bowl of wonton soup. Looking out over the bar, he thought he might have something more than just water.