Dialogue

She looks into her wine.
"I'm not like you."
     He looks amused.
"Well, sure, but that shouldn't restrict us." He takes his wallet out.
"No money", she says.
"What?"
"No money. Do I look like a whore to you?"
     He puts the money away and fingers the hem  of her dress.
"Come with me", he says.
"Maybe."
"When?"
"I don't know. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Tomorrow."
"Come with me now."
"Maybe not."
"Why?"
"You wouldn't like it."
"Huh? Wouldn't like what? What you've got on under that dress? Nothing, I hope."
"You wouldn't like ME."
"Why?"
"Nevermind."
"So come with me."
"I can't."
"What happened to maybe?"
"There's no option anymore. I said no."
"Please?" He tries to reason with her.
"No."
"But why?"
"You're not my type."
"But you're MY type", he says.
"No."
"Please?"
"I'm drunk", she replies.
"So?"
"Uh-uh."
"I'll buy you a coffee."
"I'm not going home with you."
"Then I'll go home with you." He insists. "Please?"
"Stop saying please like it's going to change my mind."
"Won't it?"
"No."
"A kiss?", he asks.
"What?"
"One kiss."
She gives him her cheek.
"Lips", he says.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I said."
     He orders her another glass of wine.
"One kiss."
"Jesus, you don't let up."
"Nope." He smiles.
"Fine. One kiss."
     Their lips meet. For one moment she feels warm, but the feeling drains. She hates this man.