The woman certainly was distracting. Every move was perfectly calculated to be exotic, to draw attention, to exemplify unspoken promise. It was an entirely pleasing performance to watch. Her dislike of alcohol was met with a hint of a grin; he wasn't a heavy drinker, at least in how he saw the world. Some people would surely argue otherwise, but they were light-weights or New-Age pansies.
He watched her walk away for a moment, then scanned the room before taking his own departure. The place was full of men that thought themselves the alpha males. Predators of the conference room, the internet, of the boardroom and court. All of them had bill-folds thicker then some countries he had fought in (figuratively speaking, of course), but at the same time few of them were willing to go near him, to acknowledge his presence in the room.
Then he spotted someone else. Another man probably not so unlike himself. The business men of the room gave the fellow a wide berth, or just outright ignored the fellow. The women of the room had a different reaction of course; much like himself, the fellow was probably the only man in the room of any substance. Physical competence translated to the bedroom as easily as the battlefield.
He studied the man openly for a moment, memorizing features. Not hard, since the fellow was wearing such ridiculous contact lenses. In the end, responsibility forced him to take his leave. He had work to do; he had to track the missing girl, scout the area, form a plan. All the sort of work he could really sink his teeth into for a few days. And he didn't have to trip over any damn Atharim in the process.
A 'small' tip to one of the serving staff saw him out a back door; he didn't want to try and exit through the front, where that blasted CIA spook might still be lurking.
Continued here: A Little Errand