Incident

“Don’t look, but I think that girl over there likes you. She keeps glancing over here, checking you out.” I already knew who Tamlyn was talking about and I looked across the bar in the woman’s direction. “What the hell, Ella? I said don’t look!” Tamlyn whispered with her hand cupped around her mouth. Oops. Luckily, the woman was looking down through a collection of magazines or journals of some sort that were strewn haphazardly across the table of the booth she was occupying. She had a computer open and a stack of sticky notes. There was a wooden pencil that she placed in her mouth like a horse’s bit while she typed. Her brunette hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore thick plastic rimmed glasses. I thought that she was beautiful. ...