Kiss Me Quickly

By EgmontGrigor2021

Micki (Michelle) Baker (28) was tired of the same guy in the coffee shop each weekday, eyeing her. If he hadn't been so brazen about it, she would not have taken him for either a deranged person or a stalker.

Anyway, why was he interested in her?

She wasn't blonde with big boobs and a skinny butt; she didn't sit straight-backed and was never accompanied by anyone into the coffee shop for a light lunch and that lack of company could indicate she was unlikeable.

But still he chewed his pie or whatever, staring at her at intervals.

The previous day, she gave him the fingers with the dirtiest look she could create on her face and the stupid idiot just grinned at her, hugely.

A day later at lunchtime, Micki braced herself to provide greater resolution and decided to march over to thump the table and tell the jerk savagely to stop staring at her.

She took a deep breath, and that pushed her breasts out and flushed because he was now staring at them.

Micki faltered, thinking she should rush to the exit but decided, no way, that she should bore in and end it once and for all. If he didn't yield and apologize, she would slap him hard as there would be no opportunity to boot or knee him in the testicles as he'd be sitting, protected by the table.

She accelerated over and fiercely slammed the top of the table with her palm, held flat to avoid the chance of injury. Her other hand was already on the table to brace herself from hurling nose-first into the sugar bowl.

The rush was designed to catch him by surprise.

Alarmingly, things didn't go according to plan.

It was a wobbly table, making it unbalanced. With her weight pressing down on the side opposite her target, the light metal water jug to top up his coffee, if required, tipped over and hot water splashed on to her left arm.

"Fuck, it's scalding water," she screamed in fright, over-estimating the water temperature.

The guy reacted like lightning.

He grabbed his unused starch napkin and folded it around that arm, pulled the bunch of fresh flowers from a side table vase and poured that water from the heavy vase over the napkin on his arm and draped it around her apparently scalded arm.

He said civilly, making no mention of her abrupt arrival at his table, "I don't think it would have been scalding water; it would have cooled to drinking temp."

"Oh," she smiled weakly, very embarrassed. "Anyway, thanks. You reacted impressively to come to my assistance."

"It was nothing and anyway you are worth it, and much more."

What, he was capable of gentlemanly comment?

Thinking quickly, Micki urged herself to skid out of this totally embarrassing situation.

"I apologize mister. I was fired up ready to give you a piece of my mind when I tripped over my own feet when honing in to thump the table to yell fuck off out of my life, you stalker."

He looked startled and then laughed rather musically.

She recognised that laugh and he mind flew into focus.

Micki said, "Omigod, you're Rick Summers, you have the most amazing laugh of anyone else that I'm familiar with on radio. You are on Radio Volcano from noon weekdays and later conduct the hugely popular 'Driving Home' sessions weekdays from 4.30 to 7.00"

"Miss, lift your arm please."

Micki obliged for the manager of the establishment who was already unwrapping the napkin.

"I'll apply butter to the wound if it looks bad but that water will not have been boiling."

The manager, peering at the arm said, "The splashed area looks fine, just a little pink thanks to the cold water being applied quickly to you Miss...Miss..."

"Micki Baker.

One of the onlookers at a neighbouring table said scornfully, "That certainly was a hell of a fuss about nothing."

Her companion said, "Hush Heather, the young woman is Micki Baker, the amazing yoga trainer over as Harrison's Gym and Fitness Barn. It is near-impossible to get into her classes because of her popularity She's the one pictured in black yoga pants and just a black sports bra in that massive sign above Harrison's."

"It's a body to die for and she never wears a top over that bra at yoga, which led to the Council serving notice on the gym owner to remove the sign after receiving verbal complaints and a petition signed by residents."

"However, gym owner Doug Harrison refused to obey the removal order and won the court case brought by the council on behalf of ninety-three 'disgusted members of the public' who had petitioned the Council to have the alleged offensive sign removed."

Hearing that accolade, Rick chuckled musically, and said to Micki, "Ah, that big sign is why I'd been struggling to place you because I'd recalled seeing you somewhere before and frequently."

Addressing the manager, he said smoothly, "Rene, darling. Could Miss Baker and I be moved over to the window table just being vacated? You will find at the table where she usually sits any of her food unfinished. In any case, a waitress can take her new order at my expense."

The couple sat at the window table and Rick said formally, "Hi, Micki and I confirm that I am Rick Summers alias Richard Summerfield, my given names, but my name is now legally changed to my preferred option."

Micki said, "I bet your mother consented to that name change because you are in the public eye/ear and she adores you as an adult."

Rick eyed her curiously.

"What do you do besides teaching, um lead a couple of yoga classes, Micki?"

"I have four daily classes each weekday for females only. They last from 40 minutes of floor work for beginners while others keep at it for up to ninety minutes max. The first is at 6.30 am for workers; another starts at 9.30 which is favoured by older women and mothers after getting the kids off to school and then one at 4.30 catches senior school leavers, tertiary students and mothers whose children go to gym or after school dancing or music classes.'

"Finally, at the 6.30 late afternoon class, standards are relaxed and we work at our routines and learning new ones with your 'Driving Home Show' playing in the background. But no singing-along is permitted as concentration is already compromised enough by having the broadcast music in our yoga space at which usually the loudest sounds are breathing, my voice and the occasion thump as an off-balance body hits her mat and/or the floorboards."

"I'm flattered that you appreciate our 'Driving Home Show' so much."

"Thanks, and regard the compliment as sincere. We recognised quality in the well-chosen music, the pace you maintain, your wit and your friendliness and skill in conducting talkback with callers."

"Wow, my adoring mother would like listening to you rave on about 'Driving Home' with me at the helm. Please come to my family home for lunch on Sunday."

"Oh n-no, I-I could not do that," Micki stuttered.

"And why not?" Mr Smoothie asked.

"Because your mother won't care for you bringing home a woman very much like you might bring home a stray cat. And besides, your family won't know me from Adam, um Eve."

"What, do people have to know you before you'll accept an invitation by a member of the family to have dinner with his or her family?"

"Um, in some instances perhaps. I appear to be digging a hole for myself."

"Indeed, but let's sort out the situation in respect of my family. I express the next thought kindly, so don't over-react."

"Possibly Micki, you under-rate yourself and if any likely lad stares at you, you suspect he might be a potential stalker."

"Why would anyone want to stare at me?"

"Well I did and so my answer may surprise you. I've stared at you during the last couple of weeks since you have been coming in here for a light lunch at 11.45 and that is more or less the time I arrive. That's the first thing behind my occasional staring bouts. I was attempting to catch your eye to nod as if to say, "Hi, early 'luncher'. Some mutual recognition appeared appropriate because we each sit at different tables at roughly the same time each weekday, at a stretch of the imagination, rather like a pair of sexagenarians might."

Micki giggled at that description.

"Secondly, it's rare to see a young woman not hiding behind sunglasses and who looks natural. rather then obviously made up with eyelash extensions and that's okay with me as is bright lipstick. But from there, the female coming under one's gaze might venture onto a stomach tightening band that used to be called a girdle I believe, hair extensions, hair colouring, and then perhaps into the really fake-look stuff involving breast augmentation, hair cluster extensions or whatever they are called, chin lifts, forehead lifts and... well that's more than enough and I accept it's their choice what they decided to do with their body. As for mass skin tattooing coverage, heaven forbid that's almost enough to have me fleeting for the hills."

"Thirdly, you sit and eat with a straight back and move like limbs in a tree swayed by a breeze. And the days I'm seated when you arrive, I watch you walk to you table with the subtle grace of a panther."

"Fourthly and finally, I find your classical appearance over-all is amazing to behold, and pardon me from staring."

He stopped and Micki's reaction was to say concisely, "That was rather embarrassing and very flattering to listen to Rick, but seriously, have you been too long out in the sun without a hat?"

"You mock me, Miss Micki Baker."

"Well you make it sound like I'm bulletproof. Not so. Yoga and swimming are my passions. I wasn't a great scholar at school and chose not to go on to university in fear of failure although lack of family support finance because my parents had just purchased a beach-house was the real reason. I have some fillings in my teeth. I'm a little short on driving skills and my car has scratches and dents that just shouldn't be there. I'm bad a remembering songs and phone numbers and..."

"Enough, Micki. I now take it that you are not perfect or, in your mind, not even close to it. However, you have a lot going for you. Now back to the invitation to have dinner at my home on Sunday night. You know my mother and younger sister as they go to your classes at 4.30 on Tuesday and Friday afternoons. Jennifer and Lisa..."

"Omigod, Jennifer and Lisa Summerfield, not Summers. I know both of them quite well as both are strong personalities and are devotees of yoga. I'll gladly come to dinner on Sunday providing you first check with your mother."

"Yes, I'll do that. Mum has been pestering me to get a new girlfriend for some weeks since my last one found someone else who was not nearly so well-known as me. She complained often that being in may company meant we could never have quiet intimate times at restaurants or at concerts or bars."

Liza nodded sympathetically but said firmly, "I'm not looking for a boyfriend at present, so don't regard Sunday as a date."

"But I want it to be a date so I can avoid Lisa and mum knowing your name in advance. I want to see their faces when I walk into the room with you on my arm. It will be a one-off date. After Sunday, it will be up to me to convince you to have more dates with me."

"And you agree not to touch me intimately on Sunday?"

"Agreed."

"Then arrange it Rick. The manner in which you propose setting up my arrival suggest Sunday dinner will be off with a bang."

"Bang, I thought you didn't want sex on Sunday?"

"Very droll, Rick, behave yourself."

* * *

On Sunday, Rick parked his car on the driveway just in from the street, to avoid alerting his family of their arrival. He and Micki entered the family room quietly and he announced their presence by saying, "Hi guys."

The four family members looked up and his mother and his two siblings' jaws in surprised with the two look-alike females screaming 'Mick' as they rushed to greet her.

Rick introduced the laughing Micki to his father Alan, who said, "Welcome to our home. Micki. It's a pleasure to have you here. I think we may have met before today."

"You've seen that big image of Micki advertising yoga classes about the gym that Lisa and I frequent," said his wife and Alan nodded.

Rick asked, "How is it you appear to know Micki, Brent?"

The younger sibling strode over and kissed Micki on the cheek and said several months ago, Micki joined the squash club where he played. She was advancing well and the prediction was she'd be in the top five of the 68 ranked female players before the year's end."

"I've never heard that prediction," Micki said, looking pleased.

"You get to hear things like that when you're a member of the admin committee," Brent said. "How is it you know Rick?"

"We've seen each other at the coffee shop that we frequent regularly for lunch and the other day we practically bumped into each other, started talking and you know how it is. Actually, I guessed who Rick was by his distinctive laugh-part-chuckle that I hear on his driving home radio show."

The group enjoyed a robust social evening and outside when Rick was taking Micki to his car she stopped.

"What is it?"

"My mother and sister will be eyeing us through the venetian blinds to see if any indication of a developing warm friendship."

Without warning, Rick seized Micki around the waist and pulled her in tightly and kissed her deeply and she cooperated fully.

She then leaned back in his grip and reached up and stroked the side of his face gently.

He grinned and said there was no need to over-do the charade.

"What charade us that, Rick. This is me being contentedly serious."

"Kiss me quickly," he smirked.

(b)The End