Is this seat taken?

Lookin' for love in all the wrong places

Sabrina sat at the trendy bar alone. Modeled after the prohibition-era speakeasy that had once inhabited the building, it was beautiful mahogany and brass. Kitschy, sexy, and interesting, the whole scene looked like a commercial for high-end booze. It was the perfect place for a romantic evening. "If he ever shows up," she thought.

Even though it was packed with young, hip, and beautiful people, Sabrina stood out from the rest. Sitting with the posture of a dancer, she made an ordinary bar stool look like a throne. Her little black dress plunged dramatically in the back to her waist, and she wore classic black Christian Louboutins. Shimmering golden hair cascaded in loose curls between her tanned, flawless shoulder blades. Her delicate hand artfully held a sapphire colored martini.

She was becoming more restless as time passed, but texting seemed a bit desperate, and it was still a little too early to decide she'd been stood up. All she could do for now was poke at her drink with the toothpick that once held a sugared lemon rind and wait.

Absorbed in thought, Sabrina failed to notice the small group of young go-getters sizing her up from across the room.

They were all pretty unremarkable dudes, dressed in single-breasted suits with skinny pants and skinny ties. Some stood, leaning on the high-top table they inhabited; others sat. Most had beards and way too much product in their hair. Hipsters meeting for cocktails after work.

Finally, one of the pack stood and took off his jacket. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his collared shirt, rolled up his sleeves, and strode confidently towards Sabrina. He sidled up to the bar, resting a foot casually on the bottom of the empty stool next to her. As the bartender approached them to take his order, he leaned in, elbow resting on the bar top.—justenough in her personal space to be awkward.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

"I'll have a bourbon and Coke, double, please."

"Sure. Do you have a bourbon preference?"

The interloper pushed his chest forward a little and squinted at the lit shelves behind the bar. "I'll do that one," he said loudly, pointing to an ornate bottle on the very top shelf.

The bartender looked puzzled. "And Coke?" he asked.

"Yeah, and Coke," the guy replied. If he could read minds, he would've heard the bartender clearly thinking: "Whatever. If you want to waste ridiculously expensive bourbon by drowning it in Coke, be my guest."

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "What. A. Jackoff," she thought to herself.

Jackoff slowly looked Sabrina up and down. Unless she wanted to be outright rude, it would be impossible for her to avoid acknowledging him from this close. She shuffled aside awkwardly and side-eyed him. Either he couldn't read body language at all, or he had balls the size of watermelons.

"Hi." The tone of his greeting was forced cockiness.

"Hello," she replied. Polite, but aloof.

"Is this seat taken?" He pulled the chair away from the bar before Sabrina could say anything else.

"I guess not," she mumbled, trying to temper her irritation. "I was expecting someone, but it doesn't look like he's gonna show."

With wary anticipation, Sabrina glanced at the phone on the bar next to her—no missed call. No text. No message. Nothing. She resumed staring into her dwindling drink as if it hid the secrets of the Universe. Hopefully, this intensity would relay to Jackoff that she had no appetite for small talk.

"What an idiot!" he exclaimed loudly. "His loss! I'm Jack, by the way. Let me buy your next drink?" It was becoming harder to hide her irritation. He had utterly failed to read the signals that all she wanted was to be left alone before she broke down crying.

"I'm Jill. No, but thank you, I'm good."

Jack laughed out loud, a little too enthusiastically. "Ha! That's funny! Jack and Jill..."

Something about him got on her last nerve. "OK, that's it," she thought. Her patience had run out.

"Yeah. It's funny because that's not really my name," she replied, matter-of-fact.

Jack went silent. He looked like a kicked puppy as his drink arrived. "Oh," he said. "Well then, have a good night." He laid a fifty on the bar and walked away.

Sabrina smiled halfway, studying her empty glass again. When she looked up to order another drink, she found the bartender looking past her, brow wrinkled.

"Well, THAT escalated quickly," he said, bemused and puzzled. Sabrina spun in her seat to see what the bartender was talking about. She saw Jack, covering his face, shoulders hunched and shaking as he crossed the floor back to the friends at the high top.

"Wait... is he... crying??" Sabrina asked the air.

As he got to the table, Jack's friends patted him on the back, consoling the clearly heartbroken hipster. One of them handed him a tissue. Another rose from his seat and stalked across the floor toward her.

"Oh, here we go," Sabrina muttered to the bartender. "The confrontation." He shrugged and hurried away, trying to look busy before the young man made it to the bar.

"What you just did to my friend was not very nice," said the friend, hands on his hips. He's a really nice guy, and you just totally hurt his feelings. You should say you're sorry."

"You're right, that wasn't cool." Sabrina sighed, feeling genuinely crappy. "Tell him to come back over, I'd like to apologize and buy him a drink."

"I'll let him know, but I don't know if he's ready to open up and trust you." And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Sabrina stared at the friend, mouth agape. She couldn't quite tell if he was serious. She knew there had to be cameras hidden somewhere; this had to be one of those practical-joke shows.

The gaggle of friends called the bartender over and began to pay their tabs as Jack came back, timidly sitting down next to Sabrina. After a few moments of silence, he looked earnestly into her eyes. "Do you think I have no feelings? I thought we were on our way to something real, and you lied to me!" His voice cracked as he pleaded with her.

Sabrina searched his face for any hint of deception. Clearly, he was deeply upset. Either that or he was the best actor she'd ever seen. Sabrina had known a hell of a lot of actors through the years; she was pretty sure he was sincere.

"What are you talking about? She asked gently, trying not to sound too exasperated. "We just met! I admit, it was kinda rude of me to lie about my name and all. But on top of the fact that I'm having a really shitty night and just want to be left alone, I'm really not into guys who try to hit on me at bars, you know?"

Jack gasped with shock. "I can't believe this! Is that what you think I am? Some shallow jerk?"

She was at a loss for words. This guy genuinely thought they'd made some sort of serious connection in the dozen-or-so words they said to each other. So weird. "Um, well, our interaction was pretty brief," said Sabrina. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but I think you might be blowing it up into something that it really isn't."

Jack looked dejected. "I can see you don't feel the same way about me that I do about you." He said "Goodbye" and returned to his table. The posse threw a final glare Sabrina's way.

Just then, Jack checked his watch and looked shocked. Donning his jacket, he said something to his friends, slammed the rest of his rum and Coke, and made a beeline for the door. Sabrina was dying of curiosity as she watched him push through the first set of doors into the vestibule. She could see a limo waiting on the curb. The driver, dressed to the nines, held the second door for the mysterious Jack. She watched through the window as he opened the door to the backseat of the luxe ride, waiting for Jack to board. He then shut the door and bolted to the driver's side. They pulled away from the curb with haste.

"What the heck was that?" Thought Sabrina, dumbfounded. "This one's gonna make for one hell of a story for the girls at work tomorrow." She watched the rest of Jack's entourage gather their stuff and walk out into the night. One or two glanced at her and scowled as they departed.

"Well, that was weird," said the bartender. His gaze was on the window, too. "Another drink?"

"Sure. Why not?" A late-night talk show flickered on the TV above the bar, with some Hollywood starlet giggling to the host about her latest project. Sabrina stared at it blankly as her thoughts returned to the guy who had stood her up.

Just then, the phone rang. A split second of excitement hit her in the throat before she realized it was her friend Jenna. She was in the middle of recounting the evening's peculiar events when something on the TV caught Sabrina's eye. She stopped cold mid-sentence. "Hey, are you there?" asked the voice on the other end. "Sabrina?"

"Uhhhh, I've got to go. Call you back in a minute," she stammered, lowering the phone in utter disbelief as Jack– the pathetic dude trying to hit on her at the bar– shook hands with the talk show host. He was Jack Fairfield, a billionaire tech mogul with fame to match his money. How the hell did she not recognize him? It dawned on her that that's why he was in such a hurry after he checked his watch. He was almost late for his TV appearance.

Though it was practically muted, she could hear the thunderous applause coming from the TV as Jack waved to the audience with a broad smile. He approached the guest sofa, reaching out to shake the hand of the obviously starstruck, giddy starlet. She pulled him near and whispered something into his ear. His smile broadened, and his cheeks burned red as he sat down.

Sabrina beckoned to the bartender frantically. "Hey, can you turn this up please?!?"

The bartender nodded, grabbed the remote from under the bar, and turned towards the TV. It took a second for what he was seeing to register, but his face slowly mimicked the look of shock on Sabrina's. "Waaaaait. Isn't that..." he started, eyes darting suspiciously around the bar.

She cut him off at the pass. "Yes!! Now turn it up so we can hear!"

The bartender turned it up, the conversation between the host and Jack growing louder until it attracted annoyed looks from the other people at the bar.

The host addressed Jack so enthusiastically that Sabrina thought he might pee on the floor like a puppy greeting a new friend. "So you've got a lot of stuff going on! I heard about the new charity you're starting; what's it called?"

Jack's face lit up. "It's called Hope for Healing! It's a charity I founded after my travels in Africa, during a peace mission with the ambassador to Sudan. I saw so many children wounded during the civil wars in the area who never received proper medical treatment. Some ended up losing limbs and having really horrible injuries that could've been prevented if treatment had been available. I resolved that when I came home, I would make sure that treatment would be available, no matter what the cost to myself personally. I funded the first leg of the charitable mission, and a philanthropic organization took it on and it's taken off beyond what I could've ever done on my own! I feel truly blessed to be able to help."

The crowd went wild, and the starlet on the couch next to him was practically drooling. "That's amazing!" she squealed.

The host was just as shameless. "Yes, it is! That's really admirable. Not enough billionaires in Silicon Valley think the way you do, man. I guess you're a special breed of billionaire!"

"Well, I dunno about that." Jack shrugged sheepishly.

The host waited for the applause to ebb. "So," he continued, "despite all of your obvious gifts as a human being, I heard you just recently had a bad break-up? I mean, how stupid does that person have to be?" The audience laughed and applauded. A couple of catcall whistles came from the crowd.

Jack responded graciously. "I normally don't talk about my private life, all I can say is she hurt me pretty badly, and it's still pretty fresh in my heart. She lied to me, then blew it off as if it were no big deal. I value trust in a relationship too much to look past dishonesty, so we had to part ways."

The audience clapped respectfully, with a few "awwwwws" to really drive home their sympathy.

The starlet is now literally readying herself to pounce on him. "Pretty stupid," she purred, "her loss."

Sabrina looked at the empty seat next to her, then at the bartender in a stupor. He stared back, mouth agape.

"Um. I'll have another." She whispered.

The bartender nodded solemnly as he turned to make her another drink.

"Make it a double, please."