Every head in the bar turned in her direction as she strode over to the stool at the very end, sliding onto the seat with practiced ease. Her dress, jet black with a plunging neckline and exposed back was enough of an invitation – no need to sit in the middle of things. She ordered a whisky sour, stirring her drink with the cherry before sucking off every bit of liquid from it with exquisitely painted lips. Her eyes roved over the crowd, moving from face to face but not lingering too long on any one.

There was one man, though, off in a booth in the corner, who intrigued her. His wide-set dark eyes were piercing, and the half-smile at the corner of his lips was his own invitation. She tilted her head slightly, dark hair brushing the tops of her shoulders, in acceptance. He picked up his drink and casually moved over to the stool next to hers. He didn’t ask if it was taken, and she didn’t object when he sat down.

The moments passed without comment, but she moved her hand closer to his. “I’m hungry tonight,” she finally said.

“That makes two of us,” he replied.

“My web is very cozy.”

It was then he noticed the front of her dress, the red hourglass around her midriff, and he startled backward, but she had already grabbed his arm.

“And you look so delicious,” she continued, running her tongue over her lips.