Mine was not the only head to turn.
Sat atop a bar stool in the brightly lit lobby bar of the mid budget Hotel I watch as the five of them walk in. Not a crease between their collective pristine appearances as clutching trolley style matching luggage they approach, almost in formation, the reception desk where to be greeted by the fresh faced curly haired brunette in her own less visually striking dull grey uniform greets them with a familiarity.
I spot her immediately, yet the slender framed blonde would stand out amongst her four colleagues, two males and two equally attractive females, even if I had not seen a photograph of her before.
There is something about her demeanour as she turns her head across her shoulder and looks in the direction of the bar that sist across the open plan lobby. Slipping my gaze away despite still being able to observe the ensemble I take a swig from the hideously overpriced bottle of Belgian lager, reaching to pluck a complimentary salted peanut from the remnants of the paltry gift in a small dish that fail to compensate for the price of the alcohol.
Away to my left the five undisguisable airline colleagues step away from the reception desk on a melee of hugs and embraces. Ironic given that three of the five, the two males and one of the females then head towards the lifts on the far side of the lobby together. Casually I observe as on another embrace the blonde steps away from an auburn haired colleague and with a smile etched across her lips, she heads with a confident stride towards the bar at which I sit while her colleague heads towards a corridor leading to ground floor accommodation.
I turn slightly towards the bar, idly viewing the vast collection of liquor bottles lined up across the back wall.
The click clack strike of her heels accompanied by the sound of her trolley luggage grow nearer until she stands at my side. I notice her subtle glance to her right as she stands there her hands coming to rest on the polished marble surface of the bar and I note despite not turning to meet her perfectly manicured bright red nails.
"What can I get you?" A somewhat dishevelled looking barman enquires.
"Gin... gin and slimline, please," she replies on a softly spoken nondescript accent.
"Coming right up... beautiful," the barman offers flashing her a smile that comes across far too forced, borderline creepy, and laced I decide with all
the charm of a serial killer.
She does not react, a professionalism held no doubt born of a daily even hourly need to handle such interactions as the overpowering aura of her powerful perfume invades my senses given her relative proximity.
Sensing her glance around the bar as she stands waiting for the barman to fix the simple drink I hold my silence, waiting to introduce myself to Roz Harper.
Roz had made first contact, a little over five weeks previous. A meet up had been scheduled to happen a little over two weeks ago but only hours before hand it had been cancelled by the stunning blonde who I knew visually from the three carefully selected photos on her very basic profile page of the discreet web site she had only joined within the last two months. A site I have been a verified member of for several years now.
"Seven pounds eighty," the barman offers as he places the wide rimmed fishbowl style glass of clear sparkling liquid before her.
"I'll get that for you..." I casually offer as I finally turn my attention towards the blonde, with a nod to the barman, "...pop it on my tab."
"Why thank you," she demurely offers.
"Pleasure," I offer on a smile as I engage her, much to the obvious chagrin of the serial killer barman.
"Oliver..." I offer holding my simple smile to conceal the lie about my as I reveal.
myself to her whilst I soak up her natural beauty despite heavily applied make up, "...Oliver Hughes."
"Roz... Roz Harper," she still somewhat timidly, nervously, offers as her pale blue eyes meet mine.
"So..." I offer burying my mild sarcasm, "...what is it you do for a living Roz?"
Her gentle nervous chuckle is disarming as she glances down her perfect slender body that is squeezed in to the tailored navy flight attendant's uniform.
"Well..." she responds a mischievously tinged smile breaking across her red lips as she relaxes just a fraction.
A little over an hour later, three more drinks consumed I narrow my eyes a little as she holds my gaze.
"Should we?" I offer as my eye-line glances across the lobby in the general direction of the bank of three elevators. "Assuming you're comfortable."
"Yes... I... well..." she offers a nervousness creeping across her features.
Her company had been pleasant enough, conversation had been stilted to start with but as soon as we had truly broached the subject of her job, the travelling it provided her and the locations she visited albeit in the main to stay in sterile accommodation for a matter a fleeting hours she had opened up, relaxed and shown glimpses of her true personality.
Interspersed I had raised the reason for her meeting me tonight, clarified everything that both she and I expected of the night. Her tone immediately shy and hushed which was understandable given both the public circumstance and the fact that she had never arranged such a rendezvous before as it transpired.
An assumption I had already made given her relatively new profile. That fact being as much an appeal to myself as the three pictures on her fresh profile, the mandatory head and face shot, a picture of her in a uniform near identical to the one she wore as she sat at the bar next to me and a final photo obviously cropped from a wider picture in which she wore a floaty pastel pink dress at a function that looked to all intents to be a wedding.
