The hot guy who comes in from the rain isn't hard to spot. He's tall and whipcord lean; he's got spiky dark hair and, from the distance, dark, sharp features.

When the guys slides onto a barstool and orders a drink, it's easy to catch the bartender's eye and nod toward the newcomer. The bartender gives the seated guy his drink, refuses payment and points. When sharp, glittering eyes zero in, his nod and half-smile are hesitantly acknowledged.

Up close, the guy is really pretty. The eyes that looked dark from across the bar are actually mostly green, and shapely lips curve up into an uncertain smile.

"Thanks," the guy says, and his voice is a little strained. He lifts the drink and swallows, showing off a long, stubble-darkened throat.

"You live around here?"

He waves vaguely. "Uptown."

The conversation isn't exactly scintillating, and the guy's face looks white and kind of pinched.

"Come here often?" Softening the lame line with what he's been told is a charming smile doesn't seem to help.

"No," the guy says. "No." He stands suddenly, and tosses money on the bar. "I have to go."

Both drinks taste good going down, and it only takes a second to zero in on a cute little blond at the end of the bar, catch the barman's eye, and nod.