"Come here often?" she asked sitting down at the bar stool next to me. She was about fifty years old but wore it well. She was very attractive, about five-five, reddish brown hair, big blue eyes and fair skin. She had fair skin and wore little make up and there was something about her, a sophistication, a confidence in the way she carried herself, that made her very appealing. I had a hard time taking my eyes off of her.
"I'm from out of town," I said, and then smiled, looking her in the eyes. "We have that line where I come from too, though."
"Yeesh," she said, "Tough crowd over here."
"It's all right, I'll let it slide."
"When I was your age, that line was new."
"That couldn't have been too long ago," I said, still looking in her eyes.
"You're sweet," she said, touching my arm. "Full of shit, but at least you're trying."
We were in the bar of the hotel we were staying at that sat right on the beach of an island resort in South Carolina. I had driven sown for my brother's wedding. I came down to the bar after the reception had fizzled out. It was late and the bar would be closing soon but I was not tired.
She finished her martini and brushed her chin length hair out of her eyes. She sat looking at me. She didn't say anything, she just looked at me for awhile.
"What?" I asked.
"You're a very handsome young man." It was the first time she had slurred and it was slight. She had remarkable composure for how tight she must have been.
"You must be drunk."
"Very," she said, and her composure was back so quickly I wondered for a second if she was in fact as drunk as I had first thought.
The bartender came by and asked if we were all right. I asked her if she wanted a drink.
"No, but you have one," she said tapping my almost empty whiskey and soda.
"I'm fine," I said.
"Bring him one," she said to the bartender and he went to make it without waiting for approval.
"You're trying to get me drunk."
"I am," she said into my eyes, smiling.
The bartender brought my drink and I sipped at it.
"So why are you here?" She asked. "Vacation?"
"No, my brother got married earlier tonight in one of the reception halls."
"What a coincidence," she said, "I'm here for a wedding too."
"Is that another line you're feeding me?"
"I wasn't aware I still needed to be feeding you lines. I was just making conversation while you finished your drink."
She was sitting closer now and our legs were pressed against one another.
"Well," I said, "If you still need to be feeding me lines now, you won't after this drink."
"Drink it faster."
I laughed before I realized she was dead serious. I took a big drink. She looked tired and her head slowly lowered itself onto my shoulder, as if she couldn't control it.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes, it's just been a long day."
"Why?"