"Of course. Of course." You respond to Monica's question, reiterating the word "Target" which you're almost positive you heard her say while you were drifting into other thoughts.
Monica seems way of your response, but sly. She looks at you with a half-grin that could mean, well - anything, really. What exactly is the accurate interpretation of a half grin?
But you think back to your stare, and how obvious it was. Clearly, you were staring at her tits, and surely, Monica must have noticed that. And then there was the matter of her self-satasfied smirk that left even more questions in your head.
Monica snaps you out of your cyclical thinking. "So Evan, what can I make you?" She's standing by the bar, reaching idly for a bottle of Stolichnaya. You're only halfway through the bottle of Miller you've brought, and Monica seems all to happy to hurry your pace of inebriation. |