Tom lived in one side of a duplex across the street from the university. "It's not as cheap as it looks because it's so near to the school. Still it's a lot less expensive than the new complexes on the other side of town."
That confirmed Gen's impression about his general attitude. She decided that "balanced" described it best.
Smart and practical, but willing to consider comfort and convenience.
Stepping inside, she asked, "Can I look around?"
"Sure. The place isn't big enough to require a tour guide. My drink selection isn't large. I have rum and bourbon."
"Got any Coke?"
"Sure. You just want Coke?"
"No, silly, water it down with a lot of rum. I heard that straight Coke is really bad for you."
Chuckling quietly, he went into the kitchen to construct her drink.
It was as it appeared from the outside. Old and small, no carpet, two rooms, window unit AC. A living room, another room that served as a both bedroom and kitchen and a small bathroom.
Looks like it's at least twenty years old. Probably built in the late 50's or early 60's.
There was no clutter. Given the small amount of clothing and personal items, Gen deduced that Tom only owned what he needed. Everything was neat and clean. Finished with her tour, she smiled at him and said, "Very impressive. Nothing turns a girl off more than to find out that a man's a slob. You seem to have your shit together."
"If you mean I'm neat and organized, then I plead guilty. And, because you approve, I say 'thank you.'"
"I like the way you talk. Smart is sexy, but don't overdo it, cutie."
Raising his left eyebrow again, he asked, "How about a slice of lime with your rum and coke?" He offered her a glass filled with amber fluid, ice cubes and a light green wedge.
She hadn't decided which mood that eyebrow conveyed. Cocky, confident or mocking? Or intentionally ambiguous? Did she love it or hate it?
But it comes with those eyes, so I guess I'll have to take it.
After sipping her drink, she said, "Emm, that's good. The lime is a nice touch. You know, I like you being sophisticated as well as intelligent. The two aren't the same, just as neat doesn't equal clean."
He gave her that boyish grin and said, "I like the way you talk, too. Using words precisely is a fetish of mine. I think I get it from reading so much. I saw you looking at my books. Do you like to read, too?" He picked up his bottle of beer, moved back into the living room and sat on the couch. She followed.
She placed her arm on the back, cocked her leg up, turned part-way toward him and nodded. "It's a cheap hobby. When you're broke, there's always the public library. I'm impressed with your choices. I love The Lord of the Rings. And Asimov."
They talked about books and reading until they finished their drinks. Tom tried his best to let Gen do most of the talking. Marilyn had taught him that the secret of building trust is make the other person feel valued and the surest way of doing that was to listen intently when she spoke. So Tom nodded agreement when he could and asked a question when he couldn't.
Meanwhile, he noticed that Gen's pupils were still dilated despite the brighter light in the duplex. He knew that changes in a person's eyes gave away their mood and that dilated pupils could denote sexual arousal. "That would go confirm her what her words and manner project. Apparently it's not a put-on. The evening has promise."
As if reading his mind, Gen asked, "Did you know that you're eyes are more amber now than brown?"
Shaking his head and grinning he said, "No, I didn't. You like?"
"Oh, yes. I don't think that I've ever seen anything sexier."
Knowing that was an opening he shouldn't ignore, Tom thought carefully but quickly about what to say next. He glanced down at her ankle boots, and said, "I'll bet your feet hurt after standing on them for hours waiting tables. Would you like me to massage them for you?"
