bartender to keep her
company.
She ordered a white wine, then swiveled
her chair around, gawking at Camina and Michelle on the dance
floor. They seemed to be having a whale of a time, which was good
for them because she definitely was not having fun herself. The
only thing left for her to do was watch Camina and Michelle, sort
of live through them, if only for a short time.
The loud music penetrated every barrier
of her ears while she studied the spirited gentlemen who danced
with Camina and Michelle. It didn't take a genius to understand why
no one had asked her to dance. She was simply too plain looking.
Not that she necessarily wanted to dance, still the same, it would
have been nice to have been chosen.
Her upsetting thoughts continued to
escalate at a rapid pace and she considered walking out and never
returning. Quickly, she caught hold of her discomfort and put it to
rest, but kept it close by just in case she needed it
later.
For the next several minutes, Bianca
would sit at the bar, sipping her white wine, in no hurry to finish
it. She needed to have some reason to sit at the bar alone. Just
when she began to feel somewhat at ease, she caught a glimpse of a
man across the bar giving her the I'm watching you eye. She avoided
eye contact with him by shifting her eyes towards the dance floor
instead. His interest in her had come a little too late because at
that point, she just wanted to go home and lose herself in a good
book and forget that this evening ever happened.
Just when she thought that she had
somehow, on a subconscious level, shunned him away, she saw him
approaching her from the corner of her eye.
A tinge of nervousness grumbled in her
stomach and she swiveled her chair in the opposite direction so
that her back faced his approach. Not much time elapsed before he
came to the other side and positioned himself directly in front of
her. "Hello," he said.
"Hello."
Bianca perused his faded jeans and worn
out leather jacket, much too rugged for her taste. He had dark wavy
hair and shiny brown eyes to match. He extended his hand to her and
said, "I'm Rod. Rod Bigg."
Was he serious?
Rod Bigg? What kind of move was he
trying to pull on her?
She hesitated for a moment, then shook
his hand. "Bianca."
If her spirits had been sunnier, she
may have found his name comical, but tonight was different. She was
in no mood for racy comments.
"You don't mind if I sit down, do you?"
he asked.
Before she could even answer, to her
dismay, he seated himself next to her. His name alone had told her
all that she needed to know. As he very obviously scrutinized her
crossed legs, she so much wanted to say to him, I see
you.
"Let me guess, you don't come here
often do you?" he asked her.
"Why do you think that?"
His eyes made a stop at the top of her
dress and remained there. He couldn't be any more obvious. "I think
it's obvious," he said.
His straightforwardness and easygoing
persona demonstrated an air about him, which she found a tad
offensive and somewhat repelling. She finished the last bit of her
drink and shifted her body away from him.
"Let me get you another
drink?"
Before Bianca could even respond, Rod
had already signaled to the bartender and ordered another drink for
her. "So what do you do?" he asked her.
"Why?"
"Just trying to make
conversation."
"I'm a legal secretary."
He nodded as if he approved, not that
it mattered to Bianca one way or the other.
Over on the dance floor, Bianca
observed Camina and Michelle still hammering away to the music, and
she feared they might be out there forever.
"Looking for your sisters," Rod
asked.
Bianca flashed him a subtle look of
curiosity, and before she could attempt to answer him, he said. "I
saw all three of you when you came in."
She was about to inform him that they
were not sisters, then realized that it wasn't worth the
bother.
After a short silence with no words
exchanged between them, he said, "Yeah, I'm a stock broker, make
lots of money."
Did he
company.
She ordered a white wine, then swiveled
her chair around, gawking at Camina and Michelle on the dance
floor. They seemed to be having a whale of a time, which was good
for them because she definitely was not having fun herself. The
only thing left for her to do was watch Camina and Michelle, sort
of live through them, if only for a short time.
The loud music penetrated every barrier
of her ears while she studied the spirited gentlemen who danced
with Camina and Michelle. It didn't take a genius to understand why
no one had asked her to dance. She was simply too plain looking.
Not that she necessarily wanted to dance, still the same, it would
have been nice to have been chosen.
Her upsetting thoughts continued to
escalate at a rapid pace and she considered walking out and never
returning. Quickly, she caught hold of her discomfort and put it to
rest, but kept it close by just in case she needed it
later.
For the next several minutes, Bianca
would sit at the bar, sipping her white wine, in no hurry to finish
it. She needed to have some reason to sit at the bar alone. Just
when she began to feel somewhat at ease, she caught a glimpse of a
man across the bar giving her the I'm watching you eye. She avoided
eye contact with him by shifting her eyes towards the dance floor
instead. His interest in her had come a little too late because at
that point, she just wanted to go home and lose herself in a good
book and forget that this evening ever happened.
Just when she thought that she had
somehow, on a subconscious level, shunned him away, she saw him
approaching her from the corner of her eye.
A tinge of nervousness grumbled in her
stomach and she swiveled her chair in the opposite direction so
that her back faced his approach. Not much time elapsed before he
came to the other side and positioned himself directly in front of
her. "Hello," he said.
"Hello."
Bianca perused his faded jeans and worn
out leather jacket, much too rugged for her taste. He had dark wavy
hair and shiny brown eyes to match. He extended his hand to her and
said, "I'm Rod. Rod Bigg."
Was he serious?
Rod Bigg? What kind of move was he
trying to pull on her?
She hesitated for a moment, then shook
his hand. "Bianca."
If her spirits had been sunnier, she
may have found his name comical, but tonight was different. She was
in no mood for racy comments.
"You don't mind if I sit down, do you?"
he asked.
Before she could even answer, to her
dismay, he seated himself next to her. His name alone had told her
all that she needed to know. As he very obviously scrutinized her
crossed legs, she so much wanted to say to him, I see
you.
"Let me guess, you don't come here
often do you?" he asked her.
"Why do you think that?"
His eyes made a stop at the top of her
dress and remained there. He couldn't be any more obvious. "I think
it's obvious," he said.
His straightforwardness and easygoing
persona demonstrated an air about him, which she found a tad
offensive and somewhat repelling. She finished the last bit of her
drink and shifted her body away from him.
"Let me get you another
drink?"
Before Bianca could even respond, Rod
had already signaled to the bartender and ordered another drink for
her. "So what do you do?" he asked her.
"Why?"
"Just trying to make
conversation."
"I'm a legal secretary."
He nodded as if he approved, not that
it mattered to Bianca one way or the other.
Over on the dance floor, Bianca
observed Camina and Michelle still hammering away to the music, and
she feared they might be out there forever.
"Looking for your sisters," Rod
asked.
Bianca flashed him a subtle look of
curiosity, and before she could attempt to answer him, he said. "I
saw all three of you when you came in."
She was about to inform him that they
were not sisters, then realized that it wasn't worth the
bother.
After a short silence with no words
exchanged between them, he said, "Yeah, I'm a stock broker, make
lots of money."
Did he
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