She didn't know I saw her, Sarah, the girl I had been dating for months now walks into the steakhouse where I happen to be having dinner with my colleagues . My worst most insecure, anxiety ridden fears were realized when she had her arm linked into another of an older gentleman.

I steadily watched her and her companion heading my way as the maitre d' led them to a snug booth usually reserved only for big money. How could I know so little about this girl who made me feel like I was her religion. The dress she wore was vintage Chanel, I know this because I saw it hanging in her closet and asked if she ever wore it. 

     "Only on special occasions," she almost whispered gazing at the dress, "She's vintage Chanel and was my grandmothers," Sarah cooed and then shut the closet door. By the way she called the dress "she" I could tell she was raised around expensive things and was probably indoctrinated that her worth would be the things she had including a husband. 

She must have appeared while I was lost in the anxiety of my insecure thoughts. 

  "Hi Sam, I saw you from our table and told Peter I had to come say hello,"

I was speechless, she looked calm and poised. There wasn't a trace of guilt in her face. Not even two hours earlier she told me she was going to her mom's for the night. Before I coud form a word she looked at my co workers and introduced herself.

  "Hi ya'll I'm Sarah, a friend of Sam's I just came over to say hi." She shook hands and smiled like a feminine version of Rhett Butler. She knew when to laugh, when to pause, when to look directly in the eye. Now my two male colleague were hypnotized. Naturally, like everyone in this town, Martin asked if she was from Texas. She was and she would make sure you knew. I saw their eyes flooding with delight like they had just discovered a hidden treasure. I smiled uncomfortably as they she clasped her hands in front of her. 

   "I gotta get back over there, but I just wanted to say hi to Sam," Sarah said through a luminous smile directed at me, " text me later?" 

The question rattled me, "Um sure, yeah I can do that, o-o-ok, see ya" I ended up stuttering. With a little pixie giggle she turned and walked back to the old man in the booth. I could only come to the conclusion she was an absolute sociopath or I had misread the last three sex filled months. Either way she had balls and I knew good and well whatever explanation for coming to a high end steakhouse with an old man I would accept it like the loser I am. The stunned voices of my co-workers buzzed around me as I watched her walk primly back to her booth. The strappy dress exposed her delicate shoulder blades and the one tattoo she had written in the very middle of her upper back, "Cuddly Toy" written in a thin red vintage font. I stole a glance again at the booth and she had her head perched on his shoulder as they talked. Then I was struck with the notion that he reminded me of an A-Team era George Preppard causing me to analyze every nuance from the past fifteen minutes. Again though, she had balls.