Gemotions

He was standing near the bar, looking predictably handsome, which immediately made Sarah's jaw clench. She decided she needed a drink, a strong one, and approached the bartender with excessive enthusiasm.

"Whiskey sour, please!" she chirped, louder than necessary. As the bartender prepared her drink, she bumped into him, deliberately, sloshing some of the frothy concoction onto his crisp white shirt.

"Oh, *excuse me*," she said, her voice sugary sweet. She made no move to help him. Instead, she watched him blot his shirt with a napkin, a tight knot forming in his jaw. She sipped her drink slowly, enjoying the sour burn.