Chapter 1
My name is Lisa. I work as a secretary in a large downtown insurance company (if I tell you the name, I will have to kill you). My friends and co-workers tell me I'm hot. I look in the mirror, and I can sort of see what they mean, but I'm not particularly confident of my ability to attract the opposite sex. So I often find myself alone on a Friday night.
This particular Friday evening, I am at a local popular hookup bar (don't ask me to tell you the name. You already know what will happen to you). Not the sort of place you'd expect to find a hot but insecure young lady, but I didn't promise you consistency. This is a story and you'll just have to go with it.
I'm sitting alone at a small table for 2. The bar is relatively quiet for a Friday night, I suspect because it's a holiday weekend, and everyone with an automobile and a stressed out week got on the road out of the city as fast as their little wheels would take them. There are 6 or 7 guys at the bar, a couple of them looking furtively my way, and there are about 6 tables with mixed groups, or all guys.
I'm sipping my second Cosmopolitan, feeling a little sorry for myself because I don't have a car, and neither do any of my friends, but THEY all managed to hook up with someone to take them out of this godforsaken city. Maybe I am more angry than sad.
As I am drifting off into my own world, there is a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see a very attractive man, tall, slim, dressed in pressed jeans, a sweater, and athletic shoes, carrying what looks like scotch on the rocks.. He smiles at me. I'm blinded by the smile, but I keep my cool.
"Hello, pretty lady, may I join you?"
I've heard lines, and I love that he didn't use one. Just straight out: you're cute and I want to sit with you.
"Be my guest, kind sir," I flirt.
He sits opposite me, puts his drink on the table, and looks at me.
"This is my first visit to this lovely city. I'm here with a couple of friends for a hockey game tomorrow night. Tonight, well, we heard this is a great spot to meet people and have a casual chat. Did I get good information?"
He smiles again.
"You did", I smile back. "You may begin to chat casually at any time. I'm listening."
He laughs.
"So, as I said, we love hockey and we love to chat. But you can't chat at a hockey game. Too much noise. And if you're chatting and not paying attention, you could get hit by an errant hockey puck."
"That would be so sad. Your first visit to our fair city, and you're killed by a flying piece of hard plastic. I think I may cry."
He reaches out his hand and says "My name is Robert. What's yours?"
He shakes my hand.
"I'm Lisa."
His hand lingers in my hand, and I can feel a tingle rising in the center of my body. My kegels start to squeeze involuntarily.
"What do you do here in this city?"
I reluctantly pull my hand away.
"I'm a secretary at a big insurance company downtown. What do you do?"
"I'm a spy. I work for the CIA. I'm afraid I can't tell you more than that, or I will have to kill you."
I laugh much more than the joke calls for, since it is my line, and he delivers it so well.
"Gee, Lisa, I've used that line more than a few times, and it never before got that enthusiastic of a reaction. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
A favorite line from my favorite movie. He was rapidly overcoming my insecurities.
"Where are your friends?"
"They're at that table in the back."
I glance over, but can't really see them.
"Well, aren't they lonely without you?"
"I suspect they are. Would you like to meet them?"
"I believe I would."
By then both of our drinks are empty, and Robert says,
"Let's go then. I'll get us more drinks when we reach our destination."
We approach Robert's table. His friends turn to greet us. Well, imagine this. I'm thinking Robert is hot, and his two pals turn out to be hotter and hottest. Now I'm a little weak in the knees (not to mention tipsy), and I put out my hand.
"I'm Lisa."
One guy takes my hand and says "I'm James."
He rises, bends slightly forward, and kisses the back of my hand. Well, now I have to collect the puddle forming on the floor, and I take that hand and reach out for the other friend.
"I'm Cutler. Please forgive James. He was raised by aristocracy in England, and he is unaccustomed to the relaxed ways of America."
I laugh.
James says "Come on Cutler, that was just a perfectly executed romantic gesture, now wasn't it, Lisa?"
James does not have an English accent. I can see this is going to be fun.
Robert orders drinks all around. The conversation gets louder and more flirty, and I am getting more drunk by the minute. I can't take my eyes off of any one of them, which is difficult as I only have 2 eyes.
(Dear reader, you and I know where this is going, and I know you want to get to the good part, so as witty and droll as the dialogue is, I will skip the rest of it on your behalf).
Two hours later, I take a sip from my 6th Cosmo, and stifle a yawn.
"Gentlemen, I have enjoyed this evening immensely, but I am fading. Shall we call it a night?"
I start to stand up, but I stagger. Robert grabs my arm.
James says, "The knightly code of honor forbids that we leave a damsel in distress. We will escort you to your door so that you are safe from roving bandits."
I say, "Well, how sweet. I live 3 blocks from here. Let's go."
Robert pays the tab, we put our jackets on, and walk out of the bar.
Chapter 2
We stroll down the street, arm in arm. Me and Robert, Cutler and James. They don't seem to mind that they are getting quizzical stares from passersby. We arrive at my apartment. They seem prepared to drop me off, but I can't let go of a certain fantasy I've had since the beginning of the evening.
"Hey, guys, how about coming up and having a glass of wine to top off the evening?"
Do I actually think there is a chance they will refuse? Right.
Robert says "That would be delightful. Lead the way."