Greta watched his eyes; she warned ‘I do not like the looks of this!'

 'Balls, NO!' Dancer warned, but Balls did not hear him.

  Balls got up, to go traipsing after her having raised a hand to reach her. She grabbed him by his collar, drove his plump butt into his seat.  He damn near fell out of his chair.  Nearly tore his head of off his scrawny neck. Greta said, 'Stay!'

  'But..' Balls started to say. As he rubbed his neck trying to ease the pain.  She damn near strangled him, with that move.

'I said, stay, and I meant it!'  Greta warned, saw the woman she noticed that she had an escort in feet behind her, she joined an elderly male.

  'Look here, woman!  Am I not a man!  Do I not have needs?' Balls asked him as he pointed to himself.   Pulling him away from the table to approach the woman.  Looked ta Greta disdain was all over her face.  He raised his arm a waitress appeared as if she was a ghost she looked at him expectantly.  "Send her another of what she is having.  Include a rose to go with it."

  'Keep your eyes on the ball!  Watch the ball.  See how it moves on the table.    Where is the corner pocket?' Greta answered cryptically. She sighs.


   'What are you talking about?  There is no ball!  Keep my eyes on what ball!   Can you show me, where there is one!  Show me!' Balls suggested, his eyes joined her on this trek across the bar's busy floor. His eyes still hung on her as if she was the only woman in the room.


   He too, saw what she saw. The woman tapped the elder on the forearm. The elder motioned for one of his body guards to come to them. This guard turned and glared their way.  He forgot all about them.

  'I will.  You know, I will!' Greta warned, she saw the light from within the room a flash across his fingers and there was bracelet on his wrist.  Thinking 'I do not have to see any more, to know she the woman was bad news.  No matter how you wished to tell it.'


A rose and a glass of brandy arrived beside her hand, 'whose it from?' she asked the muscular waiter who had muscles where muscles should not be, but were.  The waiter looked at the table where the short man was.  He smiled impishly.


She blew him a kiss.  He opened his hand made a motion to grab it and put it in his pocket. 

  The woman Balls was watching stopped at a table. Standing with their faces looking about the room where three guards.  Six feet from the table they stood, overseeing every detail of the club.


  The woman Balls had interest in began to talk to the elderly gentleman.  He shook his head. Motioned towards where the three men stood.  The largest of them approached the table.  He looked at where this kid sat, and began to advance towards the table.  


The waitress appeared at their table carrying the drink and the rose to the woman.  The waitress told her, who sent the rose and drink.  The woman looked at where the person was who sent it to her.  She smiled impishly. At Balls, who did not hesitate to smile back at her?


Balls waved back at her smiled his dazzling smile and made a motion for her to join them at their table.


  In a nut shell was. He might have lost his. Looking at Balls In a nut shell was. He might have lost his. The figure heading to the table had under his cloak was the telltale sign of a gun.  His hands were huge. Handsome in a smoldering hot way, he was built like a prize fighter in the heavy weight division.

The End

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