'Hello, ' she asked tentatively, 'Mind if I join you?'
He glanced up, motioned to the empty seat, moving his half finished latte.
Noticing he was engrossed in a 'Colossel Cliffs ,' article she pretended not to mind that National Geographic was getting more of an eyeful than she was.
She sighed. 'Bloody typical, I've chosen the geek ...again...,' she thought...crossing and uncrossing her legs, rummaging for her phone...
'Nope...no sexy texts either. Absolutely nothing from Mr Dylan, or Mr Floyd for that matter,'
Her thoughts began to simmer, so much so, she had absolutely no idea that his eyes were now roaming across her; cliffs had been abandoned for another challenging journey...for now; he lingered as he roamed; her suit; her boots; her glossy hair; her nails until finally his eyes rested gently, stopped and just watched her face, fascinated with her mood, her vexation, her complete ignorance of his perusal...
Dropping her handbag unceremoniuosly on the floor...(containing one empty mobile phone along with spare panties, spare stockings, spare lipstick, diary, hairbrush, mirror, you name it...she could not find room for Tiffany, her favourite vibrator that morning),
she sighed again, flicking her hair back and tapping her foot, as, yet again, one booted leg elegantly, although a little brusquely, crossed the other booted leg. Sharply glancing up, she felt the heat of her blushes almost drown her as she now froze under his steady gaze, the corners of his mouth desperately tying to contain the smile caused by her actions, lest he increase her obvious vexation.
Her eyes closed, then open...
Oh my god oh my god...he's thinking I'm mad?
He's seen inside my bag?
Has he?
Oh god...
Speak you idiot...he thinks you are a complete fool....
Breathing in as though her words depended on it,