She waited with a bemused look on her face as he fumbled around at the bar, trying to save himself and post up against the aforementioned surface as if nothing had happened, and she hadn't taken him by surprise, when in fact she was intuitively good at doing just that. He was right, in a sense, perhaps she could be classified as a gold digger, but only to a certain degree. She wasn't going to just wait around for the alleged sugar daddy to spoil her with everything she wanted.. oh no. She was more than happy to simply melt the flesh and muscle, tendon and sinew that he was composed of, even the bare skeleton itself, after having removed all items of monetary value that is. She was a gold digger.. that made sure to dynamite the gold mine afterwards.<br/><br/>She knew he was checking her out, she'd felt eyes upon her from when she'd first approached the club this evening, but when he spoke? she was almost immediately dissapointed in his choice of words as his mind and mouth didn't quite cooporate, something mussing up the unison it took to properly approach a lady in conversation. And Dawn being a woman that was blunt in nature, didn't stop herself from replying to that.<br/><br/>"Oh, you know it baby?.. That's all you could come up with?" An unsatisfied pout formed upon rose-petal lips lightly glossed with what seemed to be diamond flakes. Tracing her fingers idley up and down her opposing forearm she emitted a sigh, parting her lips to let the exhale through. A shake of her head, ebony hair swishing to and fro as if it had a life of it's own, caressing her shoulders and blending with her choice of attire for the evening.<br/><br/>"If not for star-gazing.. then why'd you come here tonight?" Another inquiry, hopefully giving him enough room to redeem himself from the previous ultra-male like response. He wasn't neccessarily a bad looking male specimen, not particularly in the top ten, but he wasn't -ugly- and thus she continued light conversation, figuring he wasn't going to be any use to her after all. Reaching into her handbag, she procured from it's depths a marlboro light 100, a zippo found as well within the purse's confines, one with the words "I'm Good At What I Do" on it. A simple flip and flick and the cigarette was lit, placed on the edge of pouted lips as the zippo was replaced from where it came. A drag from the stick, and she'd reached over and pull a glass ashtray her direction.<br/>