Too Cool

Brian's tie tonight is a cool graphite silk patterned with little ash-coloured amoebae with black centres.  It's interesting and stylish, suave and cosmopolitan.  She checked the address again and frowned.  Why would he send her here to meet the client?  Where in this building would they meet?  It was gallery space, lofts under construction, and a couple of random businesses.  The elevator opened at the top floor and as the doors opened, she gasped.  Behind two massive smoked glass and chrome doors was one of the most sophisticated bars (clubs?) she had ever seen.  As far as she could see, glass, chrome, black walnut, and Chinese silk met her eye in some combination.  Frank Sinatra sang softly, and the only other sound was the occasional clink of ice and glasses and the murmur of voices, mostly male.  She saw him almost immediately, lounging at a booth and talking to a few people.  At the same moment, he lifted his eyes to her, instinctively sensing her presence.  His body never moved; his voice continued without a pause.  She gestured toward an open booth, and he nodded almost imperceptibly.  Annoyed, she sat down and took out her materials, preparing for the meeting.  He probably owned the building and wanted to impress her and the firm.  Big deal.  She was tired of his hipster posturing and hoped he'd approve the latest changes, sign off, and let her go get something to eat.  Sushi, maybe, or a kalamata flatbread at Nicco's. Her stomach rumbled, and she sighed.