So far the night had been a bust. Six men, each one faithful to a girlfriend, wife, or in one case- boyfriend. In this town that wasn’t just unusual, it was statistically impossible. Samantha sighed and pushed the remnants of ice cubes around in the rum with her tiny red straw.

Spat from the crowd like a watermelon seed, a young eastern-european looking man was thrust in the seat next to her. Maybe the seventh time was the charm.

“What’s your name?” Samantha asked.

“Dimitri.” he said, not looking at her.

Determined not to let this one get away, Samantha draped a hand over his shoulder. She leaned forward and whispered, “Can you tell what color my contacts are in here?”

Disinterested eyed met hers, which was exactly what she wanted. She concentrated and pushed against the walls of his drunken mind.

Dimitri didn’t know what was happening but he knew something wasn’t right. “What are you-”

Samantha placed her index finger against his lips. “Don’t worry. You and I are about to have a really good time.”