It was her local feeding ground. Whenever she felt she was at her peak, she made her way there. Shimmering in red dress, she made her way through the room. She spotted him almost immediately. Seated alone, the dark amber liquor uncluttered with ice, head drooping lower than his shoulders, he was a model of depression. Just her type. 

He saw her out of the corner of his eye. She was ripe for the picking. Unchecked sensuality that begged to be fettered. The wicked gleam in his eye had that long since frightened away the bartender, was unnoticed by her. 

She was ready to leave. So was he. He offered to close out her tab. She blinked. A little surprised by the generosity. He didn’t mind. She wouldn’t need it again.