It's a cramped little joint called "The Matchbox", which is labeled appropriately, considering it can only hold about twenty-nine customers at once.I glance up and catch my reflection in the mirror behind the rows of colorful bottles on the shelves at the rear of the bar. I see my shining, bright-green eyes staring back at me with my silky mahogany hair falling loosely around my pale shoulders. I nibble firmly on my bottom lip, adding a bit of plumpness and a slight cherry red color to it, hoping that she likes how I look for her this evening.I fidget in my seat, glancing from the door to the clock, which is situated on the brick wall over the bar before gazing back at the whiskey-neat, resting firmly in my grip. My eyes make the same circuit three times and then I look up for the fourth time… just as she walks in. The smooth waves of her blonde hair are kept meticulously in place and are brushing just past her shoulders, in a smooth, elegant bob. Bright-blue eyes that sparkle like a pair of blazing sapphires are searching the room, looking for her intended target.
