Finally Right, contemporary novella
The Troy, Michigan hotel bar was circled by oil paintings of
thoroughbreds grazing on rolling hills. Thanks to the wall paneling and brass
fixtures, it was businesslike and sophisticated, yet still cozy.
An ornate mirror ran the length of the bar, reflecting the
brightly-colored liquor bottles. The only person seated in the row of tall
stools was a brown-haired man in a nondescript navy jacket and khaki pants. A
glass of white wine sat in front of him and his full attention on his phone.
She stood back, watching him, a plan forming in the back of
her mind. The idea rose up out of her recently shredded self-confidence,
clawing its way to the surface, and pulling itself together like the shameful
hussy that it was. She should’ve considered all the ramifications of the
beastly plan, but she didn’t.
She unbuttoned two more buttons on her beige blouse then
shimmied to reveal some cleavage. Once done, she fluffed up her hair, marched
over to the bar, and slipped onto the stool beside the brown-haired man.
She settled onto the seat, crossing her legs slowly.
He didn’t look up from his phone, but the bartender spotted
her and came over.
“What can I pour for you, Miss?”
She leaned to the right and nudged the man beside her. “What
do you think?”
He blinked behind a pair of round glasses.
She touched her collarbone then ran her fingertips down the
front of her blouse, pausing at each button before dropping her hand to her
lap. “To drink.” She tipped her head toward the bar. “What do you think I
should get to drink?”
“Ummm…”
She tapped her fingertips along the inside of her thigh. “As
a professional, I’m sure you have an opinion.”
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