Saturday Nights

In Fiction, Writing on April 21, 2014 at 10:28 pm

She checked herself in the rear-view mirror.  Smooth down the stubborn twist of her fine brown hairline at her right temple.  Touch up her cranberry lipstick.  Make sure her bra straps are hidden from view underneath the silky fabric of her dress.  It was a new dress she’d never worn before and with her shiny black heels, she felt confident and attractive.  The sidewalk to the restaurant would be her own personal runway.  She grabbed her matching black clutch from the passenger seat before sliding out and making her way to the door.

The restaurant was crowded, typical for a Saturday night.  The young hostess smiled warmly at her.  “Just one, or are you meeting someone here?”

“Just me,” she replied.  “I’ll just take a seat at the bar, if that’s okay.”  The hostess nodded and she made her way to the right wall of the building where the long, dark wood stretched before glass shelves with bright lights illuminating all the different spirits.  She put her clutch on the bar and popped herself up into one of the elevated leather stools.

“Drink? Menu?”

She raised her eyes to the face of the bartender in time to see his own gaze shift quickly from her low cut neckline to her face.  Her cheeks felt warm from the attention, but her intent with this dress was obviously on point.  “Just a vodka tonic, thank you.”

While the bartender mixed her drink, she let her eyes wander around the restaurant.  Older gentlemen in well fitted suits, briefcases under the table, clinking glasses and toasting.  A courtroom win, maybe a deal made for an investment, a financial account opened with a new firm.  The possibilities were endless.

Young couples.  First dates, nervous with shaking hands holding water glasses and fidgeting with seams and hems.  First dates, boring with their own wandering eyes that do no good at hiding their desire for the person two tables over.  New relationships, sitting close together lost in intimate conversation.  Old relationships, champagne at the table and a single long stemmed rose to celebrate many years together.

“Miss?”  She turned her attention back to the bartender.  “Anything else?”

“No, thank you.”  She slid a $10 bill across the bar top.  “Keep the change.”  She checked her phone.  8 pm exactly.  It was nice to relax,no chores, no work.  She let her mind drift while she sipped her vodka tonic, putting together more stories and lives of the people around her, so when he spoke it startled her.


She turned to find deep blue eyes trimmed in thick lashes.  A 5 o’clock shadow on a pronounced jaw bone surrounding perfectly symmetrical lips.  Such a simple word, but coming from a face like that in such a deep breathy voice made it seem like so much more.  She smiled.  “Hello.”

“Let me buy you a refill,” he said, pointing to her glass.  “What will you be having?”

“Tonight is a vodka tonic kind of night.”

“Good choice.”  He waved casually to the bartender, pointing to her glass and nodding slightly before putting up 2 fingers.  Within minutes, the bartender delivered two fresh vodka tonics in front of them.  “I love this restaurant.  Good service.  Quick.”


They sat in silence for a moment, studying each other.  Then he finally spoke again with that thick and warm voice.  “That’s a very lovely dress.  I commend you for walking any distance at all in those shoes.”

“Wow.  Thank you for noticing.  Most men don’t pay attention to details like that.”  She paused before giving a playful smirk and adding, “Unless you’re just a smooth talker who’s used to sweetening up ladies.”

He chuckled and looked her directly in the eyes.  “Smooth talking is a trait that can be useful in many situations aside from sweetening up a lady.  But I suppose I’ll have to leave you decision of me up to you, yes?”

“I suppose so, sir.”

Another moment of silence.  Clinking ice cubes in nearly empty glasses.  She could physically feel the pull of her body to his and could tell he felt the same by the way he leaned closer to her every couple of seconds.  It was mere millimeters, just a slight re-position of an arm or leg, but it was happening.  Then, as if reading her mind, he said quietly, “Would you like to accompany me out of here?”

She took the last sip of her vodka tonic and pushed it away with a smile.  “Sure.”  He held her elbow as they weaved through the tables, chairs, and sea of people.  He was still holding her elbow when they emerged onto the sidewalk and gave it a slight pull.  She wasn’t ready and her heels betrayed her.  She stumbled slightly and fell into his chest, breathing in his cologne.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he just smiled.  “I’m parked right here.”

“And I’m over there,” he said, pointing to a lot across the street.

“I’ll get to my car first, so why don’t you follow me?”

He nodded and smiled, giving her elbow a small squeeze before turning her loose.  The drive to her house was twice as long as she remembered.  It was as if every light was red and every car in front of her was going 10 miles below the speed limit.  She glanced behind her every so often to see him following close behind.  Her breath was coming in quick inhales by the time she pulled into the driveway.  She made her way to the front door and almost had it unlocked by the time she felt him behind her.  Anticipation and excitement had all her nerve endings buzzing on alert.

She slipped into the front hall and turned on the light.

“Nice flowers,” said coolly, toying with the petals of one of the lilies she had placed in a vase by the front door.

“Thank you.  I just got them today.”  She watched his fingers, so expertly gentle.  She was still watching his fingers on the lily when she felt his hand on her hip, pulling her close to him.  Then his mouth was on hers.  It was quick, she didn’t even have her shoes off, but she felt so alive.

With tangled arms and tongues, she moved with him up the stairs and down the hall to the last door on the right.  He laid her on the plush bed, toying with her hair, kissing her neck.  She felt like her body was on fire.  She was completely lost in his scent and sounds.  Completely lost to the rest of the world, until the phone began to ring.

He slowed his lips to a stop and rested his forehead on her chin.  She let a loud sigh.  “I’m sorry.  Let me get that.”  She slid out from under him and pulled the strap of her dress back up into position, tripping over one of her discarded shoes as she made her way in near darkness to the bedside table.  She clicked the ‘talk’ button and put the phone to her ear.  “Hello.  What’s wrong?  Are you sure?  It’s a sleepover, sweetie, that normally does mean all night.  Okay, okay.  Hold on just one second.”  She put the phone against her chest and turned to look at him, sprawled out across her bed watching her.  “Bad news…”

“Sleepovers not happening, I assume?”

“Definitely not.  There is so much drama and tears on the other end of this phone it’s deserving of an Oscar.”  She looked at him apologetically.

He sighed and stood from the bed, sliding his shoes back on.  He pulled his keys from his pants pocket and pulled her close to him again, breathing in the sweet smell of her apple shampoo and kissing her on the forehead.  “No worries.  We had a good run for a bit.  Maybe another night?”

She smiled.  “Thank you.”

He nodded and grabbed his jacket from the bed post, making his way back down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door.  She put the phone back to her ear as she pulled off her necklace and slid her dress down to the floor, kicking it into her closet.  “Hey, it’s okay.  Listen, everything’s alright.  You’re coming home.  Daddy’s on his way.  No worries, sweetie.  Daddy will be there very soon.”

Copyright © 2014


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