I knew he wanted me.
It was obvious from the coy glances, the body language, even the way he texted messages on his phone – probably trying to get his favourite wing man to come down to the bar and give him support. Adorable really. Not my type though, no sense of humour. You can always tell.
Gorgeous body under the suit. Obviously looks after himself. Neat and tidy in himself. Pity about the sense of humour. Sometimes with these ones it’s more fun to see how they react if you crack on to their wing man instead of them.
I moved just to make sure it was me he was looking at and not, say, either or both of the fabulous blondes sitting on the other side of me. Sure enough, his eyes followed me even though he tried not to show that he was watching. From my new position I could tell that he was armed. You have to admire a man who turns up armed, preferably not to be with me of course, but it’s nice to know that other people think through the possibilities before they leave the house.
Speaking of possibilities, I could see the street outside in a mirror from my new position. Down below police cars were pulling up, all quiet and not-flashing. Gorgeous had been texting for backup as I’d thought. He was just the sort to have a badge.
I was tempted to stay for a while longer and make his acquaintance but then my favourite little brunette climbed out of the back of a car and started giving orders.
Interesting. He’d been calling for his principal because he was the wing man. Had this all been chance?
The police were going catch me one day, but not today.