I had a casual acquaintance with Iris, the young woman who lived in the unit next to mine. Across the hallway, actually. She was quite young, in her early twenties, and lived by herself. I don't know what her job was but she always left home early, looking immaculate. From the few time I had spoken to her I had found her articulate and intelligent. I wouldn't call her a raving beauty but she has a sort of elegant style that appealed, and a figure that was very attractive. (Especially attractive to the lech in me, but I won't go into that.)
Now never having seen her looking anything but immaculate and charming it was quite a surprise when she knocked on my door early one Sunday morning. Opening the door I found Iris slouching there, dishevelled and rumpled, looking as though she'd been dragged out of bed, had some clothes thrown at her, and kicked out the door. She looked absolutely delightful.
"Coffee," she said, and she made that one word sound like a desperate plea.
"Do I take that to mean that you want me to give you some beans so that you can make some coffee or is it a request to come in and have a mug of my Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee, freshly brewed and still piping hot?"
Seeing I had a mug of that same coffee in my hand I waved it under her nose, letting her catch the aroma. For a second there I thought she was going to snatch my mug right out of my hand.
"If it's already brewed I'll drink it," she said quickly, even the thought of it seeming to help her perk up a little.
"I take it you found yourself unexpectedly out of coffee?" I suggested, steering her towards the kitchen.
"I could have sworn I had another packet in the cupboard," she sighed. "You can imagine how I felt when I found it just wasn't there. I'm absolutely screwed if I can't have my coffee in the morning."
"Whereas now you'll have your coffee and still be screwed," I said affably, taking down a clean mug and reaching for the coffee pot.
"Worth it," she mumbled, grasping the mug as I passed it to her, her nose twitching, savouring the delights of the aroma. She sank down into a chair and sipped.
With each sip she seemed to come more and more alive. She was still dishevelled and rumpled but she was human again, not a barely animated zombie suffering from caffeine withdrawal.
As she sipped I could see her intelligence coming back online, her entire body sparking up, a smile on her face and a light in her eyes. Then there was a sudden look of shock and confusion on her face. I guess she was remembering what I'd said and that she had apparently agreed to.
Obviously she wasn't going to bring the subject up so I did.
"I see you just remembered what you agreed to when you came in panting for relief," I murmured, smiling happily.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said huffily. "I'm quite sure I didn't agree to anything."
"You don't remember?" I asked, sounding surprised. "If my memory serves me correctly, which it generally does, I said certainly you can come in for some coffee, but I reserve the right to take off your clothes afterwards so that I can touch and taste you. I'm quite sure the taste of you will greatly enhance the taste of the coffee. After that we'll see what happens. You said that it would be worth it, a fair deal for a mug of my exquisite coffee."
"You said no such thing," Iris protested, speaking very firmly. "I know I never agreed to any such thing, either. I wouldn't."
"Oh. Are you sure?"
