The bar was busier than June expected, but then, the hotel was busier than usual this weekend too. It looked like there was some sort of artist convention and a wedding reception both being held in the hotel itself. From the entrance coming from the hotel lobby, she scanned the crowded bar. There were several large groups, obviously from the artist convention/show, decked out in their "I'm making a statement clothes" and the like, boisterously talking trash about the art world in general.
Most of the other tables were taken by small groups from the wedding. Women dressed in wedding casual pants suits or pencil dresses. The men had jackets with polo shirts and khakis. Most looked like they were knocking back one or two drinks before heading out for some more fun in the big city.
She didn't spend too much time studying the groups. None of them were who she was looking for. For fun, she would study some individually and wonder about them.
She thought she'd start with the only two single women there. One was sitting at the bar, the other sat at a table near a window. The woman by the window was obviously waiting for someone. She kept looking out the window while nursing a drink in a tall glass. She hadn't taken off her jacket and she checked her phone every so often. The woman at the bar was also obviously waiting for someone, although it seemed equally obvious to June that she didn't have anyone in particular in mind who she was waiting for. She had a dark skirt and a tight top with a plunging neckline that, coupled with the way she sat, showed off her deep cleavage. Should we say a working girl?
'First come, first served,' June thought with a smile.
There were a handful of single men, although they all seemed entranced by the sports channel or their smartphones, at least for the moment. Except for him.
It didn't take June long to realize there was something different about him. He was sitting at the bar, a tumbler of dark amber drink in front of him. His finely-tailored charcoal suit and crisp white shirt fit him perfectly. His features were chiseled, his haircut short.
Yes, he looked fine, but it wasn't just that he was handsome that made him stand out. There was something about the way he carried himself, the look in his eye. Unlike the other men in the bar, he seemed to have a clear purpose for being there. He wasn't just killing time uncomfortably waiting for something to happen. It was already happening, whatever it was.
June smoothed down her short pencil 50's style skirt and pulled her thin, tight sweater down to make sure it hugged her curves just right. With confident strides, she made her way to the bar. She purposefully made eye contact with the other woman at the bar and let a small smile crosses her lips. Little Miss Cleavage was sitting about 5 or 6 seats away from the gentleman at the bar and June took a seat in between them. As she mounted the bar stool, June had the satisfaction of catching the glare of annoyance from the other woman. Without even a glance at the handsome man sitting only a few feet away from her, June flipped her hair and caught the attention of the bartender. She was about to order when she felt a presence behind her.
"She'll have a Sweet Heat," a quiet, smooth, but commanding male voice said behind her. He had a hint of a foreign accent that June could not place.
The bartender, a young man, cocked his eyebrows at June to gauge her reaction to the man's attention. She smiled, shrugged her shoulders.
"I'll take a Sweet Heat," she said to the bartender. "Thank you," she directed to the stranger who was already moving his drink and taking the seat next to her as the bartender brought her a cocktail glass filled with a yellowish drink and garnished with what looked like slices of ginger and a dash of hot pepper.
"You will love it," the stranger said. "It is sweet, of course, with notes of ginger, but underneath is a definite fire. Very spicy. It will suit a lady like you well, I should imagine."
June took a sip. She appreciated the strong ginger flavor, one of her favorites. The underlying kick from the hot peppers was subtle and not as unpleasant as she feared.
"It is very good," she said after taking another sip. "Again, thank you."
In response, he raised his glass to her slightly before taking a swallow, never once taking his eyes off her. His stare was laser focused.
"I'm June, by the way."
"It's very nice to meet you, June. I'm Maykop, Penza Maykop."
"Are you here on business, Mr. Maykop?"
"You could say that," Maykop looked past June, his focused eyes quickly sweeping the room. "There's a gentleman I was hoping to meet here tonight."
June moved to get up, "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Maykop. I didn't mean to intrude on your evening. I'll leave before I interfere with your plans."
He placed a powerful hand gently on hers.
"Don't be silly, June. The gentleman I'm looking for is here already, has been for nearly an hour. He knows I'm here. I know he's here. Our paths will cross soon enough."
June looked intently into Maykop's serious eyes. "What line of business are you in, exactly, Mr. Maykop?"
"I work for the government, June," Maykop said as he twirled the drink in his glass slowly before taking a swallow. "I'm a problem solver."
"What sort of problems?" June leaned in closer to him, letting her hand brush against his arm.
"Problems the government doesn't want you to know they have." He nodded slightly towards someone behind June. "Problems like our friend over there."
June slowly turned to get a better view of the tables behind her. A few tables away, sitting alone, was a swarthy man wearing a light orange button up shirt. The collar was open showing a tuft of thick chest hair.