smiles again

hello...and thank you, that's very kind of you to say

*smiling back as I cross the room to the bar... eyes never leaving you as I lean on the wooden top next to your seat*

hey, you look spectacular

reclaims my seat at the bar and sees the man enter the lounge, sending a friendly smile

*eyes widen as I see you in that outfit*

oh my god...

*wandering in*

returns to the lounge unable to sleep and decided to change into my outfit for the holiday

Main House
"That's what I'm saying — if he's fishing for information I need to make sure he knows I'm not Baskin' fuckin' Robins thirty-one flavors of dope got him standing by the sneeze-guard passing him nine different sampling spoons. I'm not El Chapo."

Her eyes drifted from you and back to the nothing, her fingertip fidgeting anxiously with the tab on the can.

"…if it were just a matter of volume he'd just order more coke. Maybe he's fickle, or maybe he's accounting for saturation, or covering a different userbase. My read is I don't know, so until I do I gotta guard against the worst case scenario."

Back to you. Back to your face, to what she believed was her catching you finally considering the face-down device.
That she closed the door for the fact that you were literally texting some other woman while you were in bed with her, but she wouldn't know that you saw it differently.

It's a shame Holly kept her mouth shut about it, it was almost like she knew one thing that was guaranteed to make a man apoplectic was to accuse him of mansplaining something.

The pale of her gaze sunk, as if weighsome, until her focus lost its grip on your eyes, tumbled down your cheeks, grasped with futility at your lips, and then crashed into the islandtop by your plate.

"Oh yeah? Anti-Vax Wiccan Shaman Barbie a real sweetie?"

Pool

Loop

Trousers tightening, as she whispers softly

cheeks flushed, flesh tingling, heart racing

finishes my drink and heads out into the night

drinks a little longer

Main House
"Just pump a Triceraflex and do a silly dance to a lil snip of what you've been cookin'? I mean no harm in asking, right?"

When Holly's eyes went to your phone and returned to you, she saw that you hadn't followed, your eyes still on her. Grin gone, portcullis shut, drawbridge raised.
Like she mis-stepped in answering your question and talking about how she was spending less time with Leo.

Holly just chewed and listened for a minute before taking another drink, her posture stilted and awkward and it wasn't just from the consideration of her nails or her lip tint.

"…I've gotta be a little cautious about that," she answered regarding Moss-Lo. "Information ain't free, even if he's posturing like he's expanding his throughput. Seeing the whole menu creates a footprint of goods — could be he's trying to ID my supplier to cut around me. If he guesses wrong, that's gonna go real bad for him so if I were in his shoes…"

Was this existential indulgence a distraction from other pertinent topics? Sure, but this tangent was not for show.
If you were gonna stamp out the other line of conversation with a terse acknowledgment, she'd move on.

"…I'd wanna be pretty certain if I were him." thinking about the biz undercut her appetite, and she left the other half un-eaten.

"…meth is probably the easiest expansion, good margins and the shit they cook in those Mexican mega-labs is so much better than anything they manage this side of the border off of cope-tier reagents. But soon as he sees it he'll know it's Sinaloa. But he won't know where I'm plugged in, or if I'm exclusive to them or not."

Holly pushed her plate away from herself and just focused on the drink, wearily taking off her petty indoor shades and staring off into the distance like she were doing math. "Be nice if I could afford to plug in some decoy goods in the report, stuff I don't expect him to order in bulk, and stuff that'll throw off his sniffing. What do you think?"

gives time a little bit longer