Little Woman | H.S

Two

Annabelle's POV

Easy.

That was one word to describe my night so far.

Time seemed to be flying by and customers were effortlessly finding girls and heading out to pursue into their intimate actions quicker than the speed of lighting.

It was quarter to 12 now and surprisingly no one had yet to figure out who this mystery man named Harry Styles was.

We had no idea if he was the shy man dressed in a luxurious black suit or the young blonde who chatted up almost every girl while making corny remarks. I would laugh at his failing attempt to charm the girls. Did he not realize that a conversation wasn't exactly necessary in this game seeing as one thousand dollars would guarantee you the night with one of us even if you were mute?

Every time I worked Rosemont I found myself observing the customers more than any other I interacted with. I would study their movements, their eye contact, how they spoke or what their body language was. All of them seemed to order the same drinks and chat you up with the same stories about their successful lives. None seemed to stray from the stereotypical roles I had set in place for them.

Except one.

While every other man dressed in expensive brands mingled and sipped their scotch on the rocks, one stayed to the back of the group, scrolling through his phone and sipping bourbon.

I watched girls try to get his attention, sitting and attempting to converse with him but he would look at them with an emotionless expression and go back to observing his mobile device.

To say our generation isn't consumed by technology would be an understatement with this guy.

He hadn't said a word to one of them. Not even a simple hello. He didn't stare at them with hungry eyes, picturing what he would do later in the night. He seriously made zero attempts.

It was amusing none the less watching the girls get offended by the dark haired man who sat by his lonesome in a closed off corner.

But honestly if you're not going to take your pick than why bother coming? I doubt it was the view.

I was busy chatting up a younger looking brunette man named Marcus at the bar when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Marcus's gaze shifted from my face to someone standing beside me and I presumed it was whomever had decided to interrupt us. He was frowning slightly so it was obvious he was disliking the intruder.

I turned slightly in my chair and my jaw slacked open slightly at the beautiful man standing beside me. I quickly composed myself so I didn't throw off Marcus and lose a potential customer but to say this guy wasn't a sight for sore eyes would be a straight up lie. Marcus was good looking, sort of, but his man possessed a rare kind of beauty. A mysterious kind of beauty.

Green orbs the colours of evergreen trees were planted directly on me, not even faltering from their gaze when mine met theirs.

It was the man from the corner booth.

His towering height was quite dominating given I was seated on a chair, he was dressed well, an all black suit fitted perfectly and I suspected it was designer. An expensive watch glistened on his wrist that was attached to his right hand which was holding an empty glass and his left hand was shoved in the pocket of black pants.

This was the first time I had seen him clearly all night. Why someone with such daunting looks hid behind the shadows was beyond me.

A clink sounded and a refilled glass was placed between Marcus and I. He sat his empty cup down and picked up the newly poured drink, the brown liquid filled a quarter way up from the bottom. He lifted it to his pink lips and took a tiny sip, his eyes still captivated by my own.