She locked eyes with him, her intent obvious. The young waiter smiled. Tall, rangy, with shaggy blond hair barely tamed into an acceptable style for the job, he looked like a university student. From Midtown at least, perhaps even Sheridan Village. His eyes were Vadim’s. She spoke to a discreet concierge, who gave her a keycard and directions. The keycard held casually in one hand, she approached the waiter. “I’d like some champagne.” He raised the empty tray. “I’ll have to get more.” “You do that. I’ll be waiting by the elevator.” She turned and left, hearing laughter from surrounding partygoers. Well, she had a reputation. Might as well use it. Once in the private room, he left the champagne on a small occasional table and reached for her. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away. “Not with that face.” He reached under the sleeve of his white uniform jacket and removed the glamour charm bracelet.
