copyright Annette S Thomson 2011‘Hello there, doll,’ he says.

‘Hi,’ she says, smiling.

‘Mind if I sit here?’ He points to the barstool beside her.

She sighs. ‘If you want to.’

‘You’re no from around here, are you?’

‘How observant.’ She attracts the barman’s eye.

‘Ah’ll get that for you, love.’

‘I can pay for my own drinks.’

‘Come on, that’s how we treat a lady here, Glasgow style.’

She hesitates. ‘Thank you.’

‘Cheers, darlin’.’

‘Chin-chin.’ She sips her drink and places the glass on the bar.

‘What brings a lady like you to Glasgow? Business?’ He leers. ‘Pleasure?’

‘A bit of both,’ she says, pulling back from him.

‘And which of those are you taking care of tonight?’ He places a hand on her knee.

‘That very much depends on who is asking and how much he is willing to pay.’

He leans in and squeezes her knee. ‘What if it was me asking? How much would I have to pay?’

She appraises him. ‘More than you could afford, sweetie.’

He bristles. ‘I don’t know about where you come from, but up here we don’t judge a book by its cover.’

She fingers his frayed cuff. ‘Glasgow style?’

He entwines his fingers in hers. ‘You’d better believe it, doll.’

She whispers in his ear, he nods and they leave together. He leads her to an alley and moves in to kiss her. She pulls back, palm outstretched. He counts out notes from his wallet and she slips the money into her pocket.

‘Shall I give it to you now?’ she asks, her hand on his belt.

‘Aye, doll. Ah’m ready when you are.’

She smiles before bringing her head down fast and hard on his nose.

‘There’s your kiss,’ she shouts running out the alley. ‘Glasgow style.’


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