There were a few traveling salesman-types in the bar he had to pass through while on his way toward the restaurant in the back.One of the men looked at him appreciatively,then seemed to catch himself and looked away before his friends noticed.
Dallas went to the dining area and took a seat near the large windows.It was a very no-nonsense kind of hotel,it seemed.A waitress,who seemed to double as a bartender on the quiet weeknight,came to take his order—a smoked salmon pasta seemed like a good choice—and left him as efficiently as only someone who knew how to work multiple tasks at the same time could.
Dallas stared out the window at the small,well-lit park behind the hotel.It was nice,again almost homey in some strange way.Maybe it was a small town thing.