Oh, it certainly was. She tried to keep from purring victoriously that her not-terribly-subtle hint had been received so well, though with his hand just there—
Well. That left her with two options. Greta could either draw this out right here at this tiny, darkly-lit table, or, her eyes landed on a door some feet away, she could convince him to take it somewhere a bit more private in the vicinity.
Clinging with an iron grip to the vestiges of her polite composure, she drank the last of the tropical concoction that was only partially to blame for her coquettish behavior and let her hand linger on his for a moment before pushing it off and standing. Before he could comprehend, protest, or otherwise react, she smoothed her robes with as nonchalant an expression as she could manage (which wasn't very).
"I think," she said slowly, meeting his gaze, "I feel the need to freshen up." Her tone lifted at the end, ripe with the innuendo. A little too nervy to wait for a response, she turned on her heel and did her best saunter as she recalled the waitress that inadvertently started this…this. Her heart might have jumped a little.
Greta had no idea what she was doing.
It was fantastic.
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