Kat sipped her warm wine and sighed softly. This party was a bloody bore. Her boss had suggested that she come because it was good for PR. She didn’t like any of these people. The men were all lecherous know-it-alls, and the women were up-themselves bitches.
A penguin-clad waiter walked passed and Kat picked a chilled glass of champagne, raised it to her fuchsia colored lips and took a long refreshing gulp. Her mind buzzing from alcohol excess, her eyes darted around the room searching for someone she could have even a mildly interesting conversation with.
She spotted him in the far corner, and like herself, his attire was totally wrong. Just like her own entirely inappropriate casual get-up of a black leather mini and hot pink low cut top, she noted his faded blue tee-shirt taut over his well-toned muscles and his jeans, which incidentally covered a very pert bum.
“This party might just have something for it,” she muttered to herself as she sauntered casually over. Her green eyes glinted with desire as she made direct eye contact with his azure eyes. His sandy hair flopped messily into his face giving him a mischievous air.
Kat leaned against the wall and flicked her hair away from her face hoping to get a reaction, but nothing, no comment, no smile, not even a sidelong glance. She sipped at her now warm drink and decided to take matters into her own hands.
“You like you’re having just as much fun as I am,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
“I’m working,” the sexy loner took a gulp of his orange juice.
“Working?” Kat asked, with a hint of disappointment.
Great, another pretentious hot-shot touting for new ‘clients’. Why do I always pick ‘em?
“Yep,” his manner was abrupt.
“Officially I am working too, I am supposed to be friendly to all these geezers with posh suits,” Kat laughed, slightly embarrassed by own her dim-witted humour.
