We aim and don’t always hit the shot

Salma arched her brow, looking at him:

- You... You're not one of the male dancers, are you?

- No... I'm just the bartender. - He smiled.

She sat on the couch, legs up, making room for us:

- Sorry for a three seater sofa only ... But there are three of us here. He smiled, explaining himself.

He sat down and I pulled out one of the armchairs, because I thought it was strange to talk to him and Salma when the three of us were next to each other, having to look around. I think I sometimes had OCDs too, like Mr. Allan.

- You working together and don't know each other? How crazy!

- Well, she doesn't know me. I know her. He frowned, looking at her.

- Of course... Who would forget the beautiful redhead in the glass box? - I noticed his gaze at her, of admiration.

Okay, I can be a cupid. And I would do two perfect things: get my best friend a nice man and make him give up on me at the same time. After all, I didn't want to make him suffer, as Daniel was a nice man.

- But tell me... What is it