Damian Tutone

You should have asked if you could write her, Inigo admonished.

Write her? How about get her number? Damian glanced over his shoulder at the bar retreating in the gloom.

Yes, so you may telephone her. Sometimes I am forgetting of modern conveniences.

Damian shook his head. No, that's not my style.

I can feel the untruth of those words, Damian. You are simply scared, Inigo said.

There was no point in lying to an entity already in your head. Of course I'm scared. You saw her, Inigo. She is way out of my league.

A league? Inigo asked. Of gentlemen?

Extraordinary. Damian chuckled to himself.

I’m afraid I do not understand.

Damian sighed. Yes, Inigo. Out of my league. As in, she is far too attractive for me.

Damian checked to make sure that he had replaced his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. After spending more than enough on drinks – delivered swiftly and with a radiant smile – he'd tossed a pair twenties on the bar and left. The night had raised his spirits somewhat, and so, in that regard, he supposed it had been a success.

Ah, but you are intelligent and possessing of a well-paying job, no? Even in my time did money entice pretty women, Inigo said. It cannot be much different in these days.

No, I guess you're right, but… she's not like that, Inigo.

And you know this how?

I don't know, she just... I can tell. Damian shoved his hands into his pockets.

It sounds to me like you are making excuses. I could not help but notice the amount that she smiled upon you.

She was working. It’s her job to be friendly in addition to serving the beer. Damian frowned. Had she really smiled at him more than the other patrons? Just let it go, Inigo.

As you wish, Damian.

“Damian.”

The voice said his name at the same moment as Inigo. It took Damian a moment to ascertain that it hadn't been in his head as well. He froze a few steps later with one foot in the air.

“Damian,” Genny said again, the patter of her boots closing.

Damian's heart hammered against his chest as he turned. He swallowed once as he drank her in. Even in the unflattering orange of the parking lot lights, she was radiant. He struggled to remember that he could speak.

“Yes?”

Genny smiled, closing the last few steps between them. Her chest heaved and Damian tried not to stare.

“I'm sorry to chase you but… I just…” She bit her lip.

Damian envied the tooth. They stood there. Crickets chirped nearby. A truck passed on the distant highway.

Genny shook her head, and the beautiful curls bounced. “Here.” She had a napkin in her hand.

“Did I spill something?” Damian looked about in a panic. Why am I such a klutz?

Genny giggled. “It's my number.” She pressed the paper into his hand.

Damian was stunned.

“Call me sometime,” she suggested.

Damian plumbed the depths of his willpower for a nod.

Genny turned and walked back to the bar. Damian stared openly. She was so... smooth.

It took the door swinging shut to release Damian from his trance. He held the napkin in his hand up to the light. Sure enough, there was a number scrawled on it.

He resisted the urge to pump a fist high in the air.