She
waved over the waitress. “May I borrow your pen just for a sec?” Pen in hand,
she bent close, within inches of his face, as she jotted something. A satisfied
grin crossed her beautiful lips. He couldn’t stop staring, even when she stood.
“See you around, Hugh. Good luck in the race. And you Urban,” she snarled.
Once
she was gone, he read what she wrote. “Grow up. And by the way. Your pants are
unzipped.”
“Damn.”
He zipped his jeans. He heard soft laughter and looked to her table.
Urban
stood and started past Presley, but had a better idea. “Thank you for noticing,
Pres.” He tipped his hat and grinned, moving on.
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