So oblivious was he to the outside world, that he didn't even see her until she was reaching for him. “Give me your hands,” said the beautiful girl, with a slight European accent he couldn't quite place. Even as his mouth opened to question her, his hands extended. He didn't know where she was leading him, but this was a rare development indeed. Most girls barely acknowledged his existence, let alone grabbed him by the hand. Had all those hours in the gym finally started paying off? Had this Groo been transformed into a Conan at long last?
“You are married....yes?” asked she. He was not. “Girlfriend, then?” Not at the moment. “Oh!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, never leaving his even when his darted away in shyness, “How many then?” At this point, he noticed she'd led him to a perfume booth in the middle of the mall, and was opening a box of something even as she continued to hold his hands. She was seconds away from getting a bottle of some scent out and dabbing it on him, seconds from convincing him to buy something for the many girlfriends she speculated he had. It was all a play on his ego, all of it, in an effort to sell something.
“You know I...I really don't need that...” he stammered, trying unsuccessfully to take his hands back.
“Oh...?” she asked in dulcet tones, maintaining her hypnotic eye contact, “Why not?”
He managed to free one hand, with which he was able to extricate the other. “Um...you know what...I...I'll stop by on my way back,” he lied. “Okay,” she purred, and he could still feel her eyes on his back as he trudged away, the fog slowly dissipating.
It was a great sales tactic. The physical contact, the eye contact, the questions about his social status, and even the question of “how many” girls he was stringing along at the moment all made for a nearly lethal combination. But his willpower was as strong as his self esteem was low, and in the end he would not fall for any of it.
On an unrelated note, I have a few cases of perfume and makeup in my trunk now if anyone needs some...