When the love of your life leaves you, all you can do is go fishing. Just make sure you have the right bait.
She greeted me with wide blue eyes and opened red lips. I figured her out as easily as two plus two. She sat at the bar on a backless stool wearing a backless black dress, her head turned towards me while her body leaned into the bar, a half-empty whisky glass in one hand, a nearly spent cigarette in the other, and her dark hair haloed by gray smoke.
Don't worry about where you've been or where you're going. Worry about where you are.
Trevor looked into Sydney's eyes, but his peripheral vision was zeroed in on Sydney's small but well contoured and shapely bust. "Do I know you?" Trevor said.