He drained his glass to fortify his nerve, and then stumbled clumsily toward the empty barstool. Jackie watched him closely as he clambered up, trying his best to maintain some dignity by managing the loose front of his robe with one hand and clinging to his glass with the other. As happens occasionally at times of intense distraction the inanimate betrays the animate, and so, suddenly and unexpectedly, his stool tottered awkwardly for a moment causing him to forsake modesty for the stability of the bar. He lunged for the bar rail, feet churning the air below like he was peddling a bicycle, and, of course, in the commotion, his robe fell open at the waist. Jackie observed his struggles with cool amusement, but when his robe parted, exposing him, her eyes dropped to his lap and lingered there until he regained his equilibrium. The motion of his hand drawing the tail of his robe across his groin broke her trance, and she felt the heat of the blush that had crept up her throat while she was watching him.

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