We spoke only for a few minutes. What I desired from her would not be accomplished in a conversation. Then she agreed to meet me for lunch the next day.
I woke early and dressed carefully. I wanted to make a good impression but not to come off as too preppy. I had made us reservations at a favorite restaurant where I knew they would not mind what I wore. So I slipped on a pair of Dockers and a navy cashmere sweater.
I had my car pull up out front of her family's Park Avenue apartment. The doorman stood aside as she swept regally out and moved right into my car as if she owned it...or perhaps me. She was dressed in her usual elegant manner...a Donna Karan dress and shoes, carrying a Coach bag and wearing Manolo Blahnik heels. She was beautiful. She was classy. And I wanted to fuck her bad. I mean I wanted to fuck her. But I also wanted to fuck her in a hard ruthless manner that could be described only as bad.
But first, lunch.
Our table was in a darkened corner and we ordered drinks as we looked at the menu. The nice thing about being rich and unemployed is you can drink alcohol whenever you want. And I did. But I did not drink to excess. That would certainly give Athena the wrong impression about me. Instead, I barely touched my drink until the waiter came to take our orders. I noticed Athena had had more than a few sips of hers but I shrugged it off as nerves. If she had a problem with alcohol, the tabloids would have told the world about it by now.
We talked of many things while we waited for our food. She was a well read woman which I appreciated. We had a great many things in common...a love of history, of fine wines, of travel and of great literature. By the time our food arrived, I felt we were becoming great friends.