"I been drinking, I been drinking. I get filthy when that liquor gets into me. I've been thinking, I been thinking. Why can't I my fingers off it, baby? I want you, na na. "
"Harry you coming up?" Louis shouts back to me drunk off his arse.
"Nahh, I'm gonna stay down here for a bit, I'll see you lot in the morning." I call back to him. I've had my eye on this beautiful woman sitting solo at the end of the bar. "Excuse me sir," I call over the bartender, "Whatever she is drinking put it on my tab and get her another, please."
I watch as the bartender sits another round of whatever alcohol she has been consuming in front of her, some cocktail of some sort. She argues with him that she didn't order the drink and he points a finger to me, signaling it was my cue to enter. I strut over to this elder woman who has consumed my attention all night.
"Vodka on the rocks." I nod to the bartender. "You like your drink?" I ask, bringing my own poison up to my lips, letting the liquor slide smoothly down my throat.
"Are you even old enough to drink?" She asks me skeptically.
"Do you think they'd be serving me if I wasn't?" To me, age is just a number that doesn't determine your mindset.
"Touché." She bounces her red high heel and I admire how sexy her legs look in them. I love a wise woman in a pair of stilettos. "So what brought you over here?"
"Well..." I run my finger over the rim of my glass, "I was wondering what a beautiful woman like you was doing sitting alone at the end of the bar."
She laughs a temptress' laugh, "Is that what they teach you posh Brits in boarding school?"
A smile creeps on my face and I try to hide it by taking another swig of the strong alcohol. I snap my fingers to order another round. "I never attended boarding school actually." I slide her fresh drink to her.
"So you're just naturally this cocky?" She raises a perfectly maintained brow.
"I prefer the term charming, cheeky, or confident. Terms of that endearment."
"Have I seen you somewhere?" She tilts her head, studying my features. "Ahh, yes! You're Mr. Dimples from that pop band. My niece has your posters in her room." She laughs and shakes her had.
"Harry Styles, but you can call me Mr. Dimples if you like them so much." I smirk.
"They are pretty damn irresistible. How about you sign this napkin for my niece." She leans to me, dangling the napkin between to red fingernails. I take notice how her satin shirt dips low and her breast push together.
"Bartender, I would like two bottles of your finest champagne sent up to Richard Smith's room please. Asap. As for the drinks we've already ordered," I reach for my wallet and toss two-hundred dollars into the bar-top. "This should cover and you can keep the change of whatever is left over." I stand from my stool. "Meet me in room 1896 in 15 minutes." I whisper against the shell of her ear. Her smell just as potent as the liquor.
"But--" she starts before I interrupt her.
"I need a pen if I'm going to sign that autograph." I wink to her. "Oh and if anyone asks, tell them Richard Smith sent you." I wave, taking a few steps backwards before turning and disappearing out of the hotel bar.
The alcohol arrives before she does and I get slightly apprehensive that she won't actually follow through with the plan I layed out for her. My nerves are at ease when I hear two gentle knocks at the door just as I finish pouring the second glass of champagne. A pleased grin is set on my face when I pick up the glasses and open the door.
