Setting down her fork and delicately dabbing at her mouth with the linen napkin Sasha smiled at her date. Things weren't going all that well and she had decided to go to the washroom and made a call to a friend to arrange an "emergency". She was also going to have to eat some humble pie and after the meal she had just endured, sorry "shared" with her blind date she really wasn't sure she could fit it in. Her friend had asked if she wanted a "safe call" at a certain time but Sasha had laughed off the offer. Why would she need one of those she had asked. Her friend, a veteran of blind dates, had just shaken her head and told her to suit herself. The same friend Sasha was now about to call in order to escape from her date.
Excusing herself, Sasha rose from her chair and smiled briefly before making her way through the dining area to the ladies room. She looked around as she walked, admiring the style of the restaurant, noting that there were bouquets of flowers adorning every table along with the candles designed to create an intimate atmosphere. Sasha walked between the tables reflecting that, as she heard the low hum of muted conversation and soft classical music, this was exactly the kind of restaurant she most enjoyed, yet this evening was not one she was enjoying.
It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her date per se. It was just that Lewis wasn't Sasha's type. She had always gone for tall, dark haired, slim built men who were at ease in suits. Men who were suave and sophisticated. Men who flattered with fancy words. Men who knew about wine. Men who took care of their appearance and knew the difference between dry and combination skin. Metro sexual men in short.
Lewis was handsome, in a rugged, outdoors way. He was tall, with short spiky blond hair and whilst he looked attractive in the dark suit he was wearing Sasha was certain it wasn't his usual day to day attire. The conversation had been interesting enough, as they talked about current affairs and his love of football and hers of all things celebrity. There had even been some light-hearted teasing as he accused her of being shallow when she became excited while telling him of her chance encounter with a B list actor and she had yawned teasingly as he outlined in great detail a play in the latest game. But this was going nowhere; Sasha knew that they didn't have enough in common to allow a relationship. And whilst she enjoyed dating she was now at a time in her life when she was looking for something more than occasional dates.
Now, in the washroom, mirrors covering the wall in front of her, Sasha looked herself over critically. She wasn't a raving beauty, she knew that. But she had a sexuality that oozed out, no matter what she wore. And she had chosen this simple, bias cut dress purposely to emphasise her feminine shape.
She had tried for years to tone it down. She recalled how when she was still in school, and had to read a poem in their family church, her mother had flushed with embarrassment when comments were made on Sasha's appearance and sexuality rather than her reading. She remembered how her mother had scolded her about how she stood, how she looked out from under her thick, black eyelashes in what her mother had described as a "coquettish" way.
Sasha had been confused. She had been wearing her school uniform, and was the only girl she knew who didn't roll the waistband of the navy skirt up to shorten the skirt. She had worn the skirt at the regulation length, just below her knee, so that only a single inch of her legs were visible above the long grey socks. Her skirt had been topped with the plain white shirt and school tie that was mandated. She had even been wearing the royal blue cardigan over her shirt so she knew that there was nothing wrong with her dress. And as to looking out from under her eyelashes, she had been nervous at standing before everyone to read!
But in response to her mother's continued pleas Sasha tried to tone down whatever it was everyone but she saw. She dressed in jeans and baggy sweaters for many years. She had watched longingly as her friends wore fashionable little skirts and tight fitting tops, but to placate her mother she had remained covered up. Little did she know that her natural movements, olive skin and curtain of glossy black hair caused more heads to turn, more eyes to rove and more minds to wonder exactly what was under those loose fitting clothes than any revealing outfit would have attracted.
Sasha had matured earlier than most of her friends. She had achieved her full height of 5' 5" while in her early teens meaning she had at first towered over her schoolmates and then watched as they overtook her. She had also been teased by the boys in her class who found great pleasure in admiring her ripening breasts. To combat their interest, which grew in direct proportion to the size of her breasts, she had spent most of her days with her arms wrapped protectively around her chest and her hair hanging loose around her face in an attempt to hide. She had tried to melt into the background, but failed miserably despite her best efforts.
That had been years before, now Sasha was 25 and lived in an apartment in the city, miles from her parents and her mother's concerned criticisms. She was no longer the shy girl she once had been and now, with her hard earned self confidence, Sasha dressed how she wanted. She no longer wore only black; instead she wore colours and styles to suit her sultry colouring and curvy figure. And when her parents visited, Sasha pulled out some of her dowdiest clothes and everyone was happy.
Sasha pulled her cute pink cell phone from her tiny beaded purse and hit speed dial. As she listened to the purring of the ringtone she looked back to the mirrors. She saw a pretty girl, 5' 5", with long black hair and deep brown eyes. Her eyelashes were long and luxurious. As she listened to the soft purring in her ear she smiled as she recalled how a poetic date had once referred to them as "the wings of butterflies". Becoming more impatient with ring Sasha tilted her head to hold the phone in place as she took a tube of lip gloss from her purse and smeared the shiny goo over her full lips.
She pouted at her reflection, she hated her nose. A cute, button nose her mother had called it, but Sasha hated it. It had always been one of the reasons Sasha was mistaken for years younger than her actual age. And that had been another problem for her growing up. When she had become twenty one she had wanted to go out with her friends to celebrate. The group of friends had chosen a club and had spent several enjoyable hours styling their hair and applying their makeup before putting on dresses chosen to attract male admiration. They had giggled and chattered their way through a bottle of champagne before clambering into their taxi. The admiring glances from the driver during their journey causing more giggles and posing.
They had arrived at the club and one by one Sasha's friends had paid their entrance fee and sashayed past the leering doormen. Until Sasha. One of the doormen had stepped in front of her and demanded proof of age. She had been so embarrassed, her friends teasing her, causing her olive skin to flush. Even the overheard compliments from the doormen as they had finally allowed her to pass had not soothed her blushes. It had been a night to remember though, and Sasha smiled now as she recalled how they had laughed and danced the night away. Each one of them never sitting and never dancing with the same partner twice.
The click of the phone as her friend's voice mail kicked in brought Sasha back to the present. Back to her current dilemma. She sighed as she listened to the message telling her that Tanya was "too busy having fun to talk right now", looking up to smile unseeingly to the woman who was entering the room. She listened to the beeps, and then left a brief message asking Tanya to call her urgently, that she needed an excuse to leave and that if she ever heard Sasha mention the words "blind" and "date" together in the same sentence again, she was to immediately beat her over the head with the nearest blunt object.
Sasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she steeled herself to return to the table. Silently she gave a plea that Tanya would get the message and call her soon, so she could politely excuse herself and hurry to her friend's "aid". She moved easily through the restaurant and sank gracefully into her chair. Lewis told her that in her absence he had ordered dessert and coffee. She smiled at him, sighing internally as she thought he could have at least had the decency to ask her what she would like before ordering. Another reason they were not compatible, Sasha thought.
The waitress silently appeared at their table and set a delicious looking confection of chocolate and strawberries before Sasha and a slice of what appeared to be apple pie and ice cream before Lewis. "How did you know to choose this for me?" Sasha asked Lewis as she watched him scoop a huge bite of pie onto his fork.
He smiled and replied, before popping the fork into his mouth; "I saw you admiring it when the table over there ordered it" Sasha nodded as she lifted her fork to taste the dessert. Then her blood chilled as she heard a voice from the table beside them.
"Oh! Look Simon! Look! That is the woman I heard on the phone in the washroom! She was calling a friend to rescue her from 'a date from hell'! That woman there in the black dress!" The woman's voice carried clearly to the table at which Sasha and her 'date from hell' were seated. Her companion's muted hushing of her drunken giggles did nothing to break the tension now in the air.
Sasha's eyes widen and she flushed in shame. It was bad enough that she had, indeed, done as that accursed woman had proclaimed but to be discovered! Her head was down and she took a deep breath before lifting her eyes to Lewis' face.
His eyes were glittering and there was a hardness in them that Sasha had not seen until this moment. There was also a grim set to his jaw which made Sasha's heart pound.
"I...I...I'm sorry" she managed to get the words out.
"For your words? Or for being caught out?" His voice was no longer teasing but hard with a bitter edge.
Sasha looked directly into his eyes, even though all she wanted to do was run away, "For both actually."
Lewis' only response was to grunt noncommittally and to return to eating his pie. Sasha watched him chew, her appetite completely gone. She laid down her fork, the slight clatter of the metal against china making her jump slightly. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she thought she saw a smile flash briefly across Lewis' face. Surely he couldn't have smiled, she thought. What was there to smile about? She was ashamed of herself and her actions. She cleared her throat softly, and taking a breath spoke quietly.
"Lewis, I know what I did was unforgiveable. I am ashamed of myself and I want you to know that I am very sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me; I just want you to know that I am truly sorry." Her dark eyes were shining now with unshed tears and she waited quietly, with her eyes fixed on Lewis, for his response.
