I heard the elevator again and urged her to come on and get back in the room. Instead she seemed fascinated by her reflection in the mirrored doors of...the elevator. I started walking towards her and her reflection and had just gotten my hand on her arm as the elevator opened and two middle aged men started to step out dragging their luggage behind them. ‘Sorry,’ I apologized. ‘She’s a little drunk.’ ‘Ice?’ she offered as she held out the brown bucket of ice. ‘No, thanks. Offering anything. It is as if she was making a statement to the effect that this was her playground, not his. He notices there are also several candles lit around the room, providing enough light to see everything, but not so much as to make everything clear. There is a soulful jazz tune playing, one he does not recognize. She bends over in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her hips gently sway in rhythm with the music. She runs her hands down across his chest, nails extended and dragging across. More

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