Elizabeth pinches my chin with her thumb and index finger, tilting my head up to see her. "Stay with me," she says. "I know it's all a bit crazy."
Crazy.
I look down at myself. I'm naked, tied to a chair. I think I was drugged. We were supposed to go out to a movie.
She raises her right leg and assertively sets her high heel onto the front edge of the chair, between my bare thighs. She was an inch from stamping down on my semi-erect penis. In response, my cock stiffens and brushes up against the side of her foot. She glances down briefly, noting it.
She props her forearm on her knee and leans down towards me. Her face closes in on mine. Her eyes locked with my eyes. "All you have to say is 'yes' and I will take care of you," she says softly.
She leans in even closer. Her nose next to mine. Our lips almost touch. I feel energy crackling in that narrow gap between us.
"So," she whispers, "what do you say?"
***
The line to order is taking forever. The coffeehouse is packed tonight. Which is nuts because it's Tuesday. But ever since they got their liquor license and started serving cocktails and beer, the place is always busy.
The irony is that I don't even drink coffee. I could've easily made tea at home but I've been challenging myself to not be such a shut-in.
I'm regretting my decision as I look out towards the occupied chairs on the inside and in the backyard. There was an empty adirondack chair on the makeshift lawn in the corner outside. Although as I reach the cashier to give my order, I crane my neck back towards the spot to see it being nabbed. I grumble to myself as I pay, grab my tea and begin searching for a place to post up.
There's an empty stool at the high table at the front of the coffeehouse. I'm hesitant to take it because the seats are packed tightly together to allow more people. And instead of the normal, quiet patrons who read or work on laptops, the stools are currently in use by gangs of people loudly socializing.
I sigh in resignation and claim the stool. The high table spans along the floor-to-ceiling panes of glass, and looks out into the street. It's actually a nice spot for people watching.
The group to my left is comprised of four guys, one of which guffaws loudly every few minutes. To my right are two girls and a guy. From their clothes, I'm guessing they came from work. Their conversation is more subdued than the other group. But I count at least eight empty pint glasses. And they're smiling a lot while they talk. Probably getting a pretty good buzz on, I'd wager.
I dig into my messenger bag and pull out a paperback. I flip it open to my marked spot and bury my nose in to try to drown out my surroundings.
Surprisingly, I manage to get absorbed into the story after a few pages. I progress about two chapters before I even remember I have tea. I reach for the cup and take a sip. It's lukewarm. I curse my inattention when I realize how quiet it is around me.
I scan my vicinity and it's largely empty! The remnants of any human activity are the pint glasses, some beer bottles, and a whiskey glass containing only melted ice. And a woman reading quietly, three stools away.
I seem to have that effect on places. If there's a crowded location, I can clear it out. It's like my social awkwardness is a repellent that others can smell.
I mentally debate on whether or not to order another tea while my eyes linger on the book the woman is holding. The cover looks vaguely familiar.
Suddenly a ding in my brain! "Oh!
Hey!
" I blurt out much more loudly than I expected.
The woman looks up quizzically. I'm immediately horrified at myself.
"Uh sorry. I didn't mean to--" I stammer, "it's just--" I flash the book I'm holding to show the same cover.
"Ohh," she laughs dryly and nods.
I feel like an idiot and a creep. I need to bail on this now! "I apologize. I didn't mean to bother you. My mouth reacted before my brain," I quickly say and start to swivel my stool away.
"No, it's okay." She shakes her head, smiling.
I cautiously swivel back towards her. "How far into it are you?" I ask
She points the top of the book towards me, the exposed bookmark is about two thirds of the way through. "You?"
"A few chapters. What do you think so far?"
"I think I like his older ones more. His first couple of books are my favorites. Have you read any of his other ones?"
I smile, "I'm in the same boat." She nods and smiles back.
It now dawns on me that the woman I'm talking to is extremely pretty. She has light blonde hair, with waves that go down past her shoulders. Her skin is pale ivory, and looks velvety smooth. Her almond eyes are big and beautiful, with amber colored irises. I can't tell if she's wearing lipstick or if it's a nude color. The curves of her jaw are soft and feminine.
Did I say pretty? I meant stunning.
She has on a silver necklace with some sort of black stone. Below that is a black top, mostly covered by a pale green military-style jacket. My eyes scan down to slim fitting blue jeans. And then I notice her black, heeled boots. They're clearly leather, with about three inch heels that taper dramatically. I catch a flash of red for the bottoms of the soles.
"
Ahem
," I hear her clear her throat.
My gaze shoots back up to find her peering at me with slightly narrowed eyes and a raised eyebrow. Her mouth is tight and narrow. I'm mortified! She caught me gawking at her.
"I'm-- I'm so sorry! That was rude," I fumble, "I don't normally--" My hands are gesturing awkwardly.
She lets out a chuckle and shakes her head. Her demeanor relaxes again. "It's okay. Really."
I try to recover, "What's your name?"
She smiles. "I'm Elizabeth."
***
After apologizing a couple of more times, I settle into a conversation with her. She owns her own business as a consultant to executives, coaching them on leadership and presentation skills. She's originally from Seattle, but went to school in Southern California.
"I thought I was an
ac-tor
." She grins, rolling her eyes.
We converse breezily. I manage to make her laugh a few times. Her laugh is lilting and melodic. I find it intoxicating.
There are empty stools between us but I don't dare move. I was afraid anything would break the spell of her interest in me. Whether the coffeehouse was still crowded or loud, I honestly couldn't say. I'm completely focused on her.
Eventually, it becomes apparent to us that the place is closing down for the night. Waiters begin to stack chairs onto tables.
She smiles at me. "Well."
This is stupid. It's a stupid idea! Am I going to be stupid?
"So--" I begin. Oh yeah. I'm going to be stupid.
Her eyebrows arch.
"Would you be up for dinner sometime?" I ask. "With me, that is-- together. You'd have dinner. I'd be there too-- eating dinner." I feel my cheeks burning. I'm mentally punching myself in the face.
