I sashay across the bar licking my glossy red lips and fluffing my blonde hair. I ‘accidentally’ stumble into the hot young guy exiting the stage, giving him a good view of my ample cleavage. My mark for tonight.
“Cheating bastard” his wife had sobbed. “He will be gigging at Joe’s tonight. Get photographic evidence”.
An hour later I am confused. I am flirting outrageously, skirt getting progressively higher, but he isn’t interested. His wife hired me because I was his type. Am I losing my touch?
Backstage the old guitarist whispered to his young mistress “just a quickie tonight, old lady’s getting suspicious”.
Written for the Friday Fictioneers led by Rochelle. A 100 word story based on the photo prompt.