Flagging down a waitress I ordered another drink as I rubbed my tired feet. I would probably live to regret it in the morning, but I was far from finished dancing.
That's when I first noticed him sitting at an adjacent table. Not because he was slightly older than most of the crowd. He wasn't the only over twenty-five patron in the building. It was him. He had to of been the most perfect specimen of the male species I'd ever seen. There he sat, by himself, taking in the crowd, and from time to time casting a glance my way.
The waitress returned, setting my drink in front of me. All the while this mysterious handsome stranger sat there quietly, nursing his drink. I cast a glance over at him. He obviously thought a lot of himself. He was meticulously dressed, his dark hair well coiffed, as was his goatee. That face...chiseled, and ruggedly flawless. His eyes, well his eyes were a shade of deep blue I don't think I'd ever seen before. All this magnificent maleness sitting right before me. I concluded he must be somebody important, judging by the way he carried himself and the meticulous dress. But who?
He lifted his glass my way in a mock salute just as Chase and his dance partner slid into their seats laughing and chatting rather loudly. When I was finally able to scope this Adonis out further, he was nowhere to be found. His seat empty, his glass sitting on the table the only reminder he'd been real.©ChelseaBlackstone2014
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