Four - The Hook Is Set

The whole thing would have never happened except for Tiffani.

On the cab ride back to the hotel, he felt as if he was still in the middle of a dream. Was that him who had done all that talking?

He kept shaking his head over and over at the impossibility of what she had suggested.

Yeah, right. The press would have a fucking field day.

Paying the cab driver absentmindedly, he went through the door of the hotel and headed for the bar.

He waved off the bottle of liquor the bartender held up in question and ordered a glass of wine. He sat sipping slowly, turning the glass around and around in his hand. A pleasant lassitude enveloped him as the red liquid cooled his throat.

“Hi love.”

His body stiffened slightly at the voice in his ear. Without turning his head, he answered.

“Hey.”

A finger curled itself in his hair, lightly rubbing along an ear.

“You here all by yourself?”

Another swallow, another signal to the bartender.

Breasts pushed against his arm, perfume tantalizingly near.

He turned to her.

“Yeah, here alone.”

She was pretty.

He was drunk.

It wasn’t until later that he got a good look into her eyes.

He saw the same thing he always saw.

She would do anything.

Anything.

Because of who he was.

Fuck.