Then I noticed a sale sign and started looking at the items, I picked up some more stuff and absent mindedly stuck the pencils in my back pocket of my skin tight blue jeans. I have a bad habit of not bothering to get a cart to put stuff in. I never think I am going to need one.I checked out and left the store, I had gotten about two steps outside of the door and someone grabbed my shoulder. He was a big man with very powerful hands, he emanated authority with his sheer size, like the kind of man you think of that works outside all day. He said “Excuse me miss, but I think you need to come back into the store.” I of course said “no, I don’t sir”. “You have some items in your pocket that you didn’t pay for; I have already called the police.” He slid his hand down to the small of my back and started escorting me back into the store. I immediately knew what he was talking about, “Oh my God, I forgot I put them in my pocket when my hands were full, I will pay for them right now.”. I had been watching her for at least half the glass. She seemed to be alone.My stomach churned with nervous excitement as I tried to pluck up the courage to talk to her. My eyes strayed to her body, seductive curves of pale skin, accentuated by the classic black lines of her dress. The sudden movement of her glass brought my gaze back to her face. She was staring straight back at me as she slowly drained the last of her champagne; her lips curved into a smirk.She tilted her head to one side and looked at the glass, turning it upside down and pretended to look sad. I moved to her side and offered to buy her another drink. ?I thought you’d never ask? she replied, beaming. She added, ?You do know it’s rude to stare?. I blushed as I paid the barman a small fortune for another glass of champagne. She had a rich, cultivated accent. I couldn’t place it, but I guessed it was the result of education rather than social class. Her beauty was equally difficult to place; dark almond shaped eyes.
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