Supernova is located on the 50th floor of a high rise in London, surrounded by other high rises that look like they were all designed by the same architect obsessed with tall glass windows and fashionable cream coloured interiors. Nova is one of those bars you've heard about but have never been invited to, full of beautiful people with too much money and not enough time.
The focal point was the view, a perfect tapestry of the hustle and bustle of the city below, high enough to remind the patrons that they weren't just better than everyone else socially, but physically above them too. Fighting for attention were the chandeliers which, when the sun was waning just as it was that night, would refract the light across the room, with the pinks and orange hues of the sunset. Light conversation mingled with the gentle rhythmic music and the occasional tinkle of a woman's laugh, creating a perfect, relaxing atmosphere.
Although it was busy at the bar, the mid-week clientele were few and far between; there were more empty tables than not, which was exactly what I wanted. Days in my career that deserve to be commemorated were rare, which meant wins had to be celebrated. From my first successful negotiation as a junior, to that evening's earlier merger being signed-sealed-and-delivered, I had built a tradition to have a drink by myself. The merger I had negotiated was risky, with so many moving parts, but in the end so successful that I felt it deserved an expensive glass of whiskey in an even more luxurious environment.
I was surprised then, to be startled from my introspection at my table alone, to the sound of a woman suddenly seating herself across from me. I had noticed her when I first walked in, sitting at the corner of the bar. She had struck me as someone waiting for a friend, or a lover, taking small glances around the room as if that person was to walk in any second.
The slight ruffle of her cobalt blue satin dress brought me back from my reflection on the merger. Her shoulder-length hair had waves of curves rippling through it; the floral scent of her perfume drifted towards me as she pushed her hair aside and exposed her chiselled jawline leading down to the alluring curves of her bronzed neck, and cleavage that would be impossible for your eyes to follow without being caught staring. Her neckline glistened under the rainbow lights cast from Nova's chandeliers, sparkling against the silver and diamond necklace she wore proudly, the body chain extending far beyond the boundary of her dress and wrapped gently around her tight abdomen. Her dress clung tightly against her body, unashamedly showing the outline of her button-sized nipples embossed upon her small, perky chest.
She radiated confidence in those first moments as she sat opposite me, sitting in silence as she locked eyes with me across the intimately small table. After what felt like a thousand breaths, she finally spoke.
"Hit on me." She said, with a hint of a European accent I couldn't quite place. "Make it believable; give me your best line."
I was taken aback. What the fuck was happening? Out of nowhere I had been given a challenge, with no knowledge of what, if any, the reward was for meeting it. Her expression was impossible to read. Her light grey eyes gave nothing away as she waited silently for my response. I knew nothing about this beautiful woman in front of me. Every synapse in my consciousness was torn in two, yearning to learn more about her and fighting to beat her at her own game.
"Ok."
I leaned in across the table, never dropping my gaze from her stare.
"I'll buy you a drink if you tell me a secret."
She half-smiled; her full, pink lips parted, a subtle dimple strained to break through her lightly-freckled cheek. She was impressed, I thought. I hoped.
She leaned in further, her accent more prominent as she whispered.
"I'll give you three... and I'll let you figure out which one is true."
