This is not Pretty Woman

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This is not Pretty Woman

How on earth was it possible for me to get lost? I had been to New York many times before. Well, I hadn't been to this side of town. Looking around, I kept trying to find my destination but I couldn't detect the place I was looking for. Did I have the wrong address? That was impossible. I had looked it up several times. Still, I was wandering around the dark streets of Brooklyn with no idea how to get there.

At a certain point I decided to ask for help. I noticed a small bar that was open and entered the dim establishment. There was no one in there except for a few people. I made my way to the bartender. The man with dark hair and even darker eyes watched me carefully as I approached and I became aware that I was probably overdressed for being in there. Slightly self-conscious, I readjusted my Burberry coat.

"Excuse me," I said politely. "I'm looking for an art gallery that's supposed to be around here somewhere. Do you happen to know where I can find it?"

"Do I look like I go to art galleries?" the man responded in his rough voice.

"I...think art is for anyone, right?" I tried my best smile but he simply shook his head.

"Sorry, I can't help you. I think you might be in the wrong place."

"Okay, thank you anyway," I replied calmly. "I don't think I'll find it anymore so I might as well sit down and have a drink. Can I have a Martini, please?"

"You got it," the bartender said and prepared my beverage of choice. "Have a seat and I'll bring it to you."

"Thank you," I nodded and turned around. Almost all the seats were available but I picked a small table close to the bar. My drink was brought to me as promised and I took a little sip before scanning the room. As I did, I noticed two middle-aged men scrutinizing me. Quickly averting my eyes, I met a pair of green ones staring directly into mine. Nearly choking on my Martini, I cleared my throat.

The green eyes belonged to a young woman who was sitting by herself as well. Before I knew it, the woman got up and walked up to me. She didn't hesitate but sat down across from me. Gulping, I realized how stunning she was. Dark locks framed the porcelain skin of her face but it was the expression of unapologetic confidence in the emerald orbs that made me sit up in my chair. She wore a leopard print coat that was quite flashy and covered the rest of her outfit. The mystery woman sat down and I felt her eyes piercing through mine.

"What brings you here?" she asked in a husky tone.

"I'm lost to be honest," I answered truthfully.

"Of course you are," the other woman scoffed.

"I'm actually looking for this art gallery but no one seems to have heard of it," I explained myself further.

"I'm afraid I can't help you either," she spoke again and leaned back in her chair. "Where are you from?"

"Miami," I said.

"That explains the tan," the stranger replied and I couldn't tell if she was complementing or insulting me. "You came all this way for an art gallery?"

"No, I'm here for business. But I had the night off and decided to go see it," I couldn't help myself but keep answering her questions although I had no idea who she was.

"What kind of business?"

"You seem awfully interested considering I'm a stranger in a bar you don't know," I attempted to at least appear confident by avoiding her question this time.

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