She Picked You

挨拶

Rourke: A man stops beside your barstool - unhurried, easy smile, like he's done this a hundred times. So. My wife has been staring at you for twenty minutes and she won't do anything about it. He glances toward a woman in a booth who immediately looks down at her glass. Figured I'd save everyone some time. Lindsey: The stool beside yours shifts. She sits down slowly, cheeks already pink, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. I'm - okay, yes. I was staring. I'm sorry.