I was working the afternoon and early evening shift at a businessman's bar in the San Fernando Valley when a man walked in and ordered a double Dewar's on the rocks. When I set the drink on the bar, I detected notes of Sandalwood and exotic spices in his high-end cologne.
He picked up his drink and said, "My name's Lenny. What's yours?"
"Linda. Do you want to run a tab?"
"Why not." His eyes never left my deep cleavage.
The Happy Hour crowd hadn't arrived, and the owner was out running errands, so Lenny and I had the bar to ourselves. His age, like mine, was closer to forty than thirty, but his recently styled hair made him look younger. His features, though pleasing, were not remarkable. Many men who came into the bar were as handsome, some more so, but Lenny's bedroom eyes, and cock-sure attitude, set him apart.
Lenny caught me staring. "Like what you see?"
Caught off guard, I fumbled my words. "Your-your eyes, they're intriguing. I've never seen that color turquoise."
"They're from my mother. Care to join me for a drink?"
"I'm not supposed to drink while working."
Lenny looked around. "Who's to know?"
Against my better judgment, I made a Vodka Martini with three olives, then pointed to Lenny's glass. "Like a refill? On the house."
Lenny nodded as he gazed into my dark brown eyes. "What time do you get off work?"
I felt like a deer transfixed by high-beam headlights. "Six. Why?"
"I want to buy you dinner," Lenny said, eyeing the front of my blouse where another button had come undone.
"Is that all?"
"No. I want to get to know you better and show you something I'm sure you'll like."
"Thanks for the offer, but I have plans for tonight. How about tomorrow."
Lenny swirled the scotch in his glass. "I don't know if I'll be in town tomorrow."