9

Ruggerio

As the bartender delivers our drinks, I thank him and hand her the glass of champagne. She thanks me with a crooked smile, and I take a deep breath lifting my gaze.

Just as I let my eyes roam over the entrances, I see two women walking in. They halt at the top of the remaining steps after having passed the large double doors and seem to assess which bar they want to attack first. The one on the right captures my attention immediately.

Do I know her?

She is wearing a lilac dress that flows down her body, kissing her curves and putting some nice boobs on display.

No, I surely would remember those.

The color of the dress matches her mask, like everybody else’s does. It’s quite common actually. Hers, on the other hand, has her looking regally. She has her hair falling on her shoulders like a black silky waterfall.

I don’t do dark haired.

I’m still staring as my thought has me tearing back to reality. I look back to my date as her voice and the loud music which faded mom