"Over here, sweet thing."

Michael grinned while the lowlight of the shady strip joint made his deep brown eyes look almost sinister, holding out what was probably the last dollar in his wallet from his previous paycheck. His fingers tucking it into the waistband of a dancer he had been admiring most of the night while he was nursing his third beer. The smoke of cigars and cigarettes did little to break his line of vision of the femme figure before him - flaunting every asset to get a paycheck. His chain glinted in the stage lights when they swiveled to follow the dancer, his eyes following a similar path like a lion casing an gazelle.

Fingers brushing over his facial hair in a sign of growing nerves, he was already aching to find some way to have the pretty little thing in front of him. His next exploit.