He admired the way the fabric of her skirt stretched tight against her shapely backside, with only a hint of a panty line disturbing her curves. He admired, too, a hundred other details about her that charmed him to desperation. The line of her jaw, her perfectly sculpted hair, the glint of light striking her lip gloss, and once when she didn’t notice him watching a real ray of sunshine – a genuine smile, a friend smile, not one of those lifeless customer smiles. He suddenly was struck by an overwhelming desire to have and to hold her and by the equally overwhelming realization that he never would. His heart fairly broke at the loss of the ephemeral flame of pretend passion. Still he could not help but strain and crane his neck to savor every moment of visual delight when she bustled past, and he insisted on hearing every last drink and meal option to prolong their brief interactions by as many moments as possible. Nor could he help the goofy grin that flashed across his face when their eyes met. He felt foolish. He felt lonely. And, unreasonably, he felt rejected. But that wasn’t new, that was the shadow that doggedly pursued and harassed him always.
For her part, she thought, “He seems friendly, kind of cute too.”