You arrive at the bar at 9 PM, as instructed. The joint is dismal, with only a few cars parked out front. This both relieves and disappoints you somehow.
Upon entering, you find he has already arrived, sitting in an intimate booth near the back. He spots you immediately, rising from his seat, but does not come over to greet you. You find this odd, but smile and try to ignore it. You strut over to him, flipping your hair back over your shoulders, attempting to exude as much confidence as you possibly can.
"Hel-" you begin to say, but before you can even make out half the word, he cuts you off.
"Sit." His eyes tell you not to disobey. You begin to sit across from him, your back facing the patrons seated at the bar. You knew what you were there for, but you assumed the evening would begin with at least a little awkward small talk or something. "No, no. Right here." He motions to the side he was just sitting in, and you do as you're told, timidly shuffling into the booth. He follows, careful not to brush against you as he sits.
"You look...nice," he says, almost disdainfully, as his eyes scan your ensemble.
You wish you would have worn something else, something sexier. You almost subconsciously cross your legs underneath your knee-length, loose, almost child-like skirt. "Thank you," you choke out.
"So, I'm aware that this is the first time you've ever done anything like this," he continues. You nod uneasily. "But you understand the process, I'm sure. You will do anything and everything I tell you to, no questions. No excuses." You nod again, slower this time. "You do, however, always hold the right to say no. I cannot take that away from you. Just know that if you decide to take that avenue, I will have to put an end to the evening. I'm not here for small talk."
"I understand," you say, glad to know that it's never too late to back out.
