The lights to the book store were turned out followed by Stew and Rosangela stepping out along with the store owner. The store owner locked the door.
Rosangela said to her boss as he walked away, "Night, Al!" She turned and looked at her ogling friend and co worker.
Stew questioned, "Are you sure?"
She gave a definite nod.
He shook his head then asked, "You want me to wait here with ya?"
She simply shook her head.
He huffed then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. He sarcastically stated, "Good luck, you freak."
She smiled wide then stuck her tongue out at him.
He slowly turned and started away but shouted, "Tell me all about it Tuesday!"
She giggled as she shook her head. Yes, Stew was a gay gossip queen and loved juicy stories. She watched him wave to her as he disappeared around the building corner, tossed him a quick wave in return.
She continued to shake her head then looked about the somewhat vacant street. Typically during the evenings that street died out and the other main streets became the focus of traffic. Her head turned and looked down one way then shifted to look down the other. Was she being stood up by the author practically idolized?
A slight flash of lightening took her by surprise, she looked up to the somewhat smoggy sky dimly illuminated by the lights of the busier side of the city. From above a raindrop smacked her in the forehead. She groaned, "Shit." She huffed and thought, great now she was going to be stuck standing in the rain.
A grumble of thunder sounded.
Her arms tossed up, caved to the idea she was stood up. She sarcastically griped, "Just awesome."
Another raindrop struck the top of her cheek, she quickly wiped it off then groaned. Yep, she thought, another disappointment to chuck into the pile of other disappointments.
A glare of headlights steered onto the dark street.
Her eyes looked to the low beams, lifted her hand to block out some of the glare. Was it him?
Her eyes followed as the pretty spiffy looking car slowed as it neared where she stood on the curb. She finally smiled as another annoying drop of rain struck the top of her head.
The black Porsche rolled to a stop directly in front Rosangela then the passenger window automatically rolled down.
She slightly crouched and peered into the expensive car.
Victor apologized, "I'm sorry I'm late."
She smiled then shooed his apology with her hand and stated, "It's okay, I wasn't standing here long but you're just in time," she pointed up, "It's about to down pour."
He grinned then urged, "Well, get in before it does."
She chirped, "Okay."
She grabbed the door handle then swung the door open and got into a car she never thought she would ride in.
The door closed and she looked over at him as the window rolled back up. She greeted, "Hi."
It suddenly started to downpour.
He continued to grin as he shifted the Porsche into drive, turned on the windshield wipers then steered it away from the curb.
He greeted back, "Hello."
She asked, "So, where you taking me?"
He kept his eyes forward as he steered the car to the left onto another street. He replied, "My favorite place in the entire city."
Yet, he wished he could just drive straight to his apartment but he was a man of his word, dinner first.
He announced, "Grenio's off Franklin."
"Oh," she perked then stated, "I haven't been there."
He held the steering wheel with one leather gloved hand as the other cupped the center council gear shifter. He commented, "Then you're not from here."
She shook her head and agreed, "Nope." then she gave a bit more, "Been here for about six months now."
He stated, "Then you're in for a treat." Yes, but the actual treat wouldn't be until the whole dinner bit was finished and they were at his apartment.
For those few hours of waiting to see his inspiration again, he contemplated exactly what would take place once at his place. He had many ideas going about his thoughts, very colorful and vivid ideas. Those long awaited creative ideals were again his to bring to life and they were on a constant stroll through his thoughts.
His eyes glanced at her, she focused looking out the window. She even had an amazing profile. It had been a while that he had done a side profile, not since book three, Paulette.
His grin broadened as his eyes again looked forward.
Inside Grenio's, Victor Hardway was excitedly greeted by the proprietor, he an obvious regular and likely the most famous to have been in the quaint and dimly lit restaurant.
The proprietor, the restaurant's namesake, Grenio escorted the author to the usual booth in the back.
Victor thanked Grenio as Rosangela sat center booth and he sat himself at the edge.
Grenio asked, "The usual, Victor?"
Victor replied, "For me, yes, and a bottle of your best red wine, please." he looked to Rosangela and urged, "Order whatever you like. The best Greek and Italian dishes."
Rosangela smiled with a nod then looked to the widely smiling and kind owner. She went with what she typically ordered when it came to Italian, "Chicken Alfredo would be nice."
Grenio nodded and chimed, "Of course, straight away and Joey will be here with fresh bread." He gave a gracious nod to the two and scurried off shouting out orders to their server.
Victor leaned forward, removed his trench coat and draped it over the provided hook attached to the booth frame. He reached into his inside blazer pocket and asked his guest, "Do you mind if I smoke?"
Rosangela looked to Victor and, with surprise, asked, "They allow you to smoke in here? Most places don't."
He removed a fresh cigar from his pocket along with a silver flip lighter. He explained, "My privilege, I assume." he then again asked, "Do you mind?"
She shook her head and stated, "Not at all, go ahead."
He tucked the cigar between his lips and lit it up with a few puffs. He explained a bit more, "I've been coming here way before they put out the ban on smoking in public establishments." he leaned back, enjoyed the taste of his smooth cigar, "That's why I sit back here, Grenio keeps it open for me." His cigar holding hand gestured behind her.
She turned her head and slightly shifted. She smiled, an autographed photograph framed and hung behind her on the wall. "Nice," she stated then again looked to him and forwardly asked out of curiosity, "If you don't mind, why'd you ask me to dinner?"
He played dumb and stated, "I thought I explained that back at the book store."
Her eyes suspiciously eyed him then she asked, "And what's with what you wrote in the book? I'm your muse?"
He chuckled then commented, "Straight to the point, huh?" he shifted somewhat to the side then rested his elbow a top the table, "You don't hold back any punches, hmm?" He took another long drag then held the smoke for a moment, slowly exhaled from his nose.
She slightly laughed then shook her head, "Guess not."
Fresh sliced Italian bread was delivered with a traditional Italian sausage dipping sauce and set to the center of the table followed by a crystal ashtray for the honorary guest.
Joey the waiter proceeded to set two empty glasses of wine then pried the cork.
Victor focused on his blunt guest then asked a question, "Well, why do you read my books?"
Rosangela took a quick glance as the waiter poured the wine then returned her suspicious eyes to her host. She replied with a question, "Well, why do you write them?"
He widely grinned with a smoky laugh, flicked the cigar ash into the provided ashtray. He replied, "That should be obvious." he then commented, "But it's not completely obvious why you read them."
He gave a quick thanks to the waiter but kept his eyes on her.
She again grinned then replied, "I read them for the same reason you write them."
His eyes widened a bit with curiosity then he encouraged, "Please, do tell me why I write them and you read them. I would love to hear your opinion."
She grabbed her glass of wine and took a swallow then answered, "You write them because you're obviously into their content."
He approved of her suggestion, knew immediately she basically confessed she too was involved with the fetishes he erotically wrote about.
He immediately stated, "Then you too are into their content."
She took another sip of wine then agreed to his observation, "Yes." then she explained, "Likely many are into what you write but the majority won't admit to it or event conduct it because they are ashamed or embarrassed."
He gave an approving nod then stated, "Very true." then he had to ask, "But what about you, are you ashamed or embarrassed or do you conduct your confessed fetish?"
Another sip of wine she took then snatched up a soft slice of bread and started to pry a piece. She confessed, "No I'm not ashamed or embarrassed." she tucked a torn piece of bread into her mouth then confessed further, "But my moments of conducting this said fetish haven't been well conducted, if you get my meaning."
"Hmm," he hummed and took another drag, with his following words smoke streamed, "You are saying your partners have failed to conduct exactly what you desire." he watched her nod then he asked, "But have you forwardly told them?"
She chewed as she thought briefly about her past few years. She shrugged and replied, "In one way or another."
"No," he said, slightly shook his head then explained in question, "Have you openly and verbally said to your partners what you desire?"
She gave a quick answer, "Yes and no. Some yes. Some no."
"Hmm," he again hummed then advised, "For future circumstances I recommend complete honesty in the very beginning, verbally that is. Saves on time and hassle."
