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Flirt with a stranger.
I place the back of my palm against my cheek, feeling the heat of my skin. The place was getting progressively warmer through the night as more people came to Moore’s. I should have probably gone home with my friends, but a part of me wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
It’s most likely the shots talking. I didn’t feel drunk. My feet were steady, and so was my heartbeat, but I was most definitely feeling more relaxed. I’ll take it because I wasn’t sure I could do this completely sober. Not at all, and since I already scratched one item off, I might as well do another one.
What’s the problem with a little harmless flirting?
I grab Henry’s harness and get to my feet. “Bar, Henry.”
I wait for a beat, trying to see what he’ll do. Using a guide dog was all about teaching them the commands they’ll recognize. And I wasn’t sure if he’d connect the bar here with the small bar separating the living room from the kitchen area in my apartment, but it was worth a try.
I bite the inside of my cheek as Henry starts to move. Since I’d been to Moore’s with the girls a few times, I was somewhat familiar with the layout. I try to focus on the number of steps we make, as well as the voices around us until Henry comes to a stop. I extend my hand tentatively and feel the hard wooden surface of the bar in front of me.
“Good boy, Henry,” I praise, my hand sliding into the pocket of my bag to pull out a treat.
Turning around, I find an empty chair, so I climb into it, folding my hands on the counter.
What now?
I figured this would be a good place to find a stranger to flirt with. I could hear people talking around me, but I couldn’t exactly know if that somebody was alone or with company, now could I? I also had no way of knowing if there was somebody sitting next to me to try and start a random conversation.
Why did I think this was a good idea again?
Before I can start overthinking my decision, a feminine voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “What can I getcha?”
“Umm… can I get one of those fruity shots?” I ask tentatively. One more shot can’t hurt, can it? Liquid courage and all that.
I can feel her eyes on me, taking me in before she asks: “Do you have an ID?”
Well, shit.
“It’s probably somewhere in my bag; wait…”
I pull my bag into my lap and slide my hand inside to grab my wallet. My fingers turn sweaty as I try to pull my ID out of the compartment, but of course, that damn thing chooses this exact moment to be stuck.
Just my luck.
“How about you put that shot on my tab for the lady?” a raspy voice comes from my left, making me freeze as I look up.
I feel the heat rise up my neck. “You don’t really have to do that.”
“It’s not a problem when the company’s so pretty.”
I let out a long breath, forcing a smile out. “Thanks, I really appreciate it…”
“Mark,” the guy supplies.
The leather of the chair creaks, and I can feel him shift next to me, so I extend my hand. “Penelope.”
“And what is a hot girl like you doing alone at a bar?”
Hot?
I was described as a lot of things in my twenty-one years. Pretty, cute, sweet, nice, or any other synonym along those lines. Hot? Never.
Before I can answer, the glass chimes as the bartender places the shots in front of us. I thank her, wrapping my fingers around it, my mind reeling with possibilities.
This is the chance you’ve been waiting for, Penny. Don’t be a ninny now. Just turn toward the guy and flirt back. It can’t be that hard.
