What in God's good name was she doing here?
Suzanne walked into the restaurant's main foyer. Pagiani's. The scent of garlic and basil teased her as she closed the door to the blustery evening outside; the low light caused a hazy glow as the chatter of patrons buzzed low in her ears. She scanned what she could see. Some dining, part of the bar. No one sitting alone.
Foolish. How was she going to recognize him? What would she do when she met him? What if he wasn't what she expected? What if he was? What if he wasn't here? She pressed her hand to her chest and forced herself to take a deep breath. As she did, her chest rose and fell against the silk of her blouse, and her nipples rubbed against the smooth texture, becoming erect almost immediately.
Against her better judgment, she had worn the gift. Worn the gift, and placed a dark grey silk blouse unbuttoned as far as social boundaries would let her without labeling her as something not acceptable. Her skirt went to just above her knees, but the tops of her thigh highs clung to her skin, and served to remind her that she had followed the man's instructions, and had not worn any underwear.
The outline of her nipples could be seen through her otherwise conservative and well-cut blouse. And if anyone decided to look, they would be able to tell that no cloth covered them. Blood pooled to her nether regions and she suddenly became very aware of her body. "No one here can know..." she assured herself. "No one here is going to look at my breasts. No one can know what I am feeling..."
Her eyes continued to scan the room. Looking for someone looking for her. She stepped further into the foyer to get a look around the corner. An attractive man in his late 40's sat by himself at a table across the way. Grey streaking his temples. Sitting alone.
No. A woman was coming back to his table from the powder room. It couldn't be him.
Suzanne couldn't decide if she felt brazen, sexy, insane, or just stupid.
"Can I help you miss?" A man behind the podium intoned. He looked at her with a critical eye. Suzanne felt more naked then she should.
"Is anyone here waiting for Suzanne?"
"No, Miss. Will you be dining with us this evening?"
" I uh... believe so." She sucked briefly on her upper lip, and then looked the Maitre D in the eye. "Look. Is there a bar I can wait at until my date arrives?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Of course Miss. To your right. May I ask after a name? Perhaps when he arrives I can point him in your direction?"
"No. That is quite all right. Thank you."
And with that, Suzanne made her way away from the little man as quickly as dignity would allow. Had he known? He couldn't have known! She still felt haunted.
She moved further into the bar.
"Oh no."
Michael, her coworker, was sitting at the bar, chatting with the bar tender and nursing what looked to be a scotch.
Michael had only been with the company a few months, but had never taken the time to speak with Suzanne. She never really wondered about it. Michael was an attractive man at 31. Dark, well kept, he had the look of a man who never made any effort to look good, but always did anyways. The sort of man made to walk around bare-chested and hold babies. She assumed he was a cocky bastard from the start and didn't pay him much mind. But he was here. And he had to know who she was. And he would go back to the office on Monday and tell everyone that she had shown up at this restaurant and that no one had come to claim her.
Suzanne felt a blush rising, and turned the leave.
"Suzanne!! Is that you?"
She stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't just walk away now. She had to make an appearance. How would she explain it? If the man didn't show, she would appear no more than an abandoned wallflower. If he did, Michael would surely recognize him, and the news would go well with Monday morning coffee and doughnuts. She took a deep breath, steeled her shoulders, turned around and smiled brightly.
"Michael?"
"It is you! Come here and have a drink."
Suzanne made her way to the bar and found an empty stool near her co-worker.
"Vodka tonic please," she asked the bartender.
Michael was looking at her. Not just at her... but AT her. She felt her nipples tighten painfully again as she felt he could see them beneath the thin silk of her blouse. It was disconcerting. With that look, certainly he could see into her very soul, and know what she was about tonight.
"What are you doing here this evening?" He asked brightly. He sounded awfully happy to see her. Maybe it was just small talk, or surprise at seeing someone from the office. His date would show soon. Men like him didn't go places like this without a woman on his arm or a fist full of buddies.
"Meeting a friend."
"Mmmm..." he responded into his glass as he sipped his whiskey.
"You look very nice tonight." Suzanne gave him a cross-eyed look and laughed out loud.
"Thanks, I think. Who are you meeting tonight?"
"A friend." And he smiled. A warm and inviting smile. Suzanne shook herself mentally. Don't get drawn into that smile. He's not here for you. And any moment, you're going to run into...
"Oops. You have a leaf in your hair. Must have blown in from outside. Let me get that for you."
All to familiarly he reached over and plucked the miniscule foliage from her hair. She started back a bit at the easiness of the motion and then stopped cold.
As his arm came across her shoulder and near her face, it exuded the scent she had recognized earlier that day. That change crossed her face. He stopped his motion, and, having rescued the errant leaf, moved his hand briefly to caress her cheek... It stole down to rest briefly, casually on her knee.
"You were 7 minutes late you know. You..." Suzanne felt her heart leap into her throat, and she couldn't breath any longer. "You..." She shook her head and closed her eyes. She felt the hand squeeze her knee possessively and she opened her eyes in shock "But you never...how could you... why would..."
"Shhh." he said, and his voice was recognized. She had never really heard it above a whisper, and to see it coming out of this man who's face she had seen at a distance nearly every day... Suzanne felt a shock run through her entire body, from head to toes and then bounding back again. His hand was incredibly, unbelievably warm upon her knee. It slipped just under the skirt, but didn't go any higher... the feel of his hand on the other side of that black silk was excruciating.
"I had a table reserved. Are you hungry?" Suzanne could barely do more than nod as he stood up and offered his arm. She took it, and they exited the bar, returning back to the Maitre D. He sat them without fanfare in a booth sitting in the far corner of the restaurant. Dark and very private.
The Restaurant was done in hues of burgundy and gold. Everything shimmered in the candlelight, and all the tables were covered with long white crisp linen table clothes, adorned with fresh red roses. It felt opulent. Michael sat her down on one end of the booth, and he sat himself on the other. They were given two menus and the wine list. Suzanne didn't event think to look. She was still trying to sort what was occurring in her suddenly eventful life.
Michael perused the menu and wine list briefly, and then put them down, looking into Suzanne's eyes.
"I am glad you came."
"I wasn't sure that I would."
