The Handsome Stranger

   The days and nights flew by for me and I hadn't worked so hard for years. When my shift ended at midnight I'd limp back to my room in the cheap motel and fall into an exhausted sleep. I'd bought some new clothes and gradualy settled in to a routime, but my insides burned with fury over my situation. At work I tried to keep a smile on my face but at home I paced the floor. 
   That morning however, I had awakened with a plan and dug through the dresser drawers for the phone book and looked up the number of a private investigator and got an appointment for later in the week.
   It had been a bitch of a few days with a convention in town with hundreds of people eager for food and fun. And at the end of another hard night at Tony's restaurant in Dallas, I leaned back against the backrest of a stool at the bar and tried to relax finally with a glorious manhatten. 
   Several minutes later a voice interrupted my exhausted thoughts and said, "I stopped in again to see if you would dance with me!"
   And I looked up into piercing blue eyes and recognized the same man that approched me on that first night I had come in. That fatal night!  The same white Western hat was pulled down rakishly over one eye and I looked him over with interest.  He had a Clint Eastwood look about him. Slim and muscled with deep lines edged in his weathered face. A gold rolex watch glistened on his wrist and he was wearing perfectly fitting jeans.  Then I noticed his cologne was aggressive and musky and added to his mystery.
  Forgetting about my aching feet and tired back I said, "this time I will!"  He took my arm and led me onto the dance floor. For a few minutes we danced in silence as our bodies touched. Then finally relaxing into each others embrace, he pushed his hat back on his head and pulled me closer. 
   The beat of the music became slow and sensual.