He barely heard her, lost in his own head. Why had she came up to him? This only happened in dreams, which usually turned quickly into nightmares of embarrassment. Wait, she’d asked a question…
“What?”
A quick look of doubt passed over her face, but was quickly covered by her brilliant smile. “My etchings. I have a loft downtown, and I was wondering if you’d like to come see them. You look like you appreciate… fine art.”
She almost looked embarrassed herself. This is it, he told himself, this was his chance. Don’t screw up…
“Was that a yes?”
Shit. He was mumbling to himself. He fumbled for the martini, found it. Martini now gone (even warmer than the first half) – “Sure, I’d love to.”
More smiling. He felt like his entire body was vibrating.
“Well, come on.” She offered her hand.
Take it. Take her hand…
And they disappeared into the crowd.