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Not that he had.She watched him out of the corner of her eye. There was no sign that he'd noticed her.She was distracted momentarily by the bartender drifting over, he could've been composed of congealed smoke. She bought herself a gin-and-tonic. Taking her purse from her shoulder, opening it and checking her room number on the keycard showed off the fine lines of her bare arms and slim hands.How old was she? Neither the bartender nor the solitary man seemed curious. Her early thirties at the worst. Her hair was brown, she had a nice wide expanse of forehead, dark eyes, they could've been black in the dim light, a nice nose, a wide mouth whose lips were almost as pale as her skin and a slightly cleft chin. About her neck she wore a blue velvet choker with a blue flower embroidered over her throat.Her phone rang, "Hey honey," she said with a yawn."No, the party's down the way. I'm just sitting by myself having a drink to unwind. I'm sick of people and I'm definitely sick of document. I grabbed a purple pleated skirt I brought along just in case I met a cute boy who was miraculously here against his will too. It was my favorite skirt. Mom doesn't know I have it. She would make me throw it away because of how short it is. I held it up to my waist and looked at the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door. I tilted my head and left my dark brown hair flow all to one side of my shoulders. I wink and smiled innocently as if I was seducing this boy I am convinced doesn't exist. I spun around so I could see the back of me and I could tell the skirt would barely cover my ass, perfect.I am proud of my butt. I go to the gym multiple times a week exercising trying to sculpt it and make it perfect. I think I am getting there. I set the skirt aside and returned to the mirror to inspect my top. No mud, that is a miracle. I tugged on my top to show a little bit more cleavage for my imaginary friend. Satisfied I stood admiring my work. Even though I knew it would not come in.
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