It was bloody raining. Of course it was. I had just gotten dumped in the middle of a romantic restaurant where I had been convinced my boyfriend was going to propose, my heel had broken in my hasty retreat from said restaurant, and every taxi driver tonight must've been blind because out of the 6 that had passed me, none of them had stopped. Fantastic.
"What else do you got?" I say, staring up at the darkened, angry sky. The light rainshower then became a torrential downpour. Why must I always press my luck?
Running on my one shoe, the other being in my purse I slipped into the nearest building, placing my back against the wall and take a shaky breath. This had NOT been a good day.
"Are you alright, Miss?" I hear a british accent ask.
I look up to see a 6 foot something statue of David with working parts staring at me with a raised eyebrow and a half amused half concerned look on his face.
Thanks again fate. Let's send me a man who looks like he should be carved out of stone when I look like I just escaped the depths of hell with the Winchesters. I could feel the frizz springing from my hair. I could feel it!
"Um...no habla ingles?" I say, looking up at him from my 5 foot 2 frame. He was a mountain.
"Really? Because it sure sounded like you habla inglesed just a second ago when you were yelling at God or the sky or the mothership."
Was this asshole teasing me? I have no patience for this.
"Listen, buddy" I say, jabbing my finger in his chest. Oh, it's hard. That's kind of nice. Nevermind. "I have had a day that was planned by Hades himself so I don't need lip from some hoity toity British...what the hell are you anyway? A model?"
"I'm an actor, but thats no nevermind. Did you just call me" he pondered a moment, testing the words out on his tongue "Hoity toity?"
"Yes. Yes I did. Now if you'll excuse me your highness, I must be going. I'm sure there is a car outside that would like to drive in a puddle and splash me with water. Or better yet, maybe a bus that hasn't hit its quota of killing pedestrians for the month."
"Feisty one, aren't you?" he said, trying his hardest not to smile. "You look like you could use a drink. Would you join me?"
"There are no bars even remotely close to here, dude. So unless you have some Jameson in those tight pants of yours I think you are shit out of luck."
I see him bite his lip as he stifles a laugh.
"I beg your pardon, but do you know where you are?" he asks.
"Of course I know where I am. I'm.." I stop and look around, finally noticing the fancy hotel lobby, the concierge, the lady with the pinned back hair and pointy nose who looks like she is seconds away from calling the cops on me "apparantly at a hotel where I have no business. Sorry for the intrusion." I say, pushing myself off the wall and trying to make my body even smaller that it already is.
"It's no intrusion. I don't think I've had this much enjoyment in weeks. There is bar right through there" he says pointing to two glass doors set in gold "I'd be honored if you would join me."
I bite my lip and stare at him. What kind of man wants to have a drink with the crazy, frizzy lady with poodle hair who not only insulted him but pretended to speak a foreign language. I'm about to shake my head no when he smiles at me.
"My treat."
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Can one with my bad luck say no to a free drink? No, one can not. So that is how I found myself sitting at a sleek golden bar in some fancy hotel with some fancy man whose name I still didn't know.
