Chapters:

A Whiskey Neat

“Do you see the woman in the red dress at the bar?” the man in a bespoke gray European suit asked the waiter.

“Why, yes, Dr Matson, everyone in the room has noticed her,” the waiter said. The waiter poured a glass of sparkling water for the doctor.

A mischievous smile etched across the doctor’s face. “Do you know if she is part of the private group for tonight?” Dr Matson asked the waiter. His gray eyes locked on his prey. The waiter did not hesitate for another look at the long legs wrapped around the bar stool and said, 

“I don’t recognize her as a member of your group, sir.” Most unfortunate, Dr Matson thought to himself. “Order her another drink, and let her know it’s from me.” His fingers tapped the white linen tablecloth.

“Very well, sir. Will you have your usual tonight?”

“Yes, but make sure it is without ice. Last time I ordered the drink ’neat’ and instead received a miniature glacier in my drink,” Dr Matson said. He was curious if the woman at the bar was alone.

“My apologies, sir. The owner hired his nephew with no bartending experience,” the waiter said after he realigned the silverware on the table.

Dr Matson picked up a knife on the table, his finger running along the edge of the blade. “Did the owner keep him as a bartender?”

The waiter noticed a scowl on the doctor’s face and hesitated before he answered. “Yes, but he is not scheduled to work tonight, sir.”

“Good, Jimmy. The other patrons and I can enjoy our drinks tonight,” Dr Matson said.

Most the wait staff avoided Dr Matson because of his lack of generosity despite his demands and expectations of impeccable service. Tonight the waiter had the misfortune of waiting on Dr Matson. His name tag did not have Jimmy printed on it, but he did not bother to correct the doctor about his name. Why bother? After three years he does not care to learn my name, the waiter thought to himself.

Dr Matson observed the woman straighten her posture and flick her hair. Her eyes lingered for a moment in his direction. Her long black hair shimmered from the accent lights on the bar in the upstairs private dining room.

The guest speaker walked towards the podium as the guests in attendance clapped for him. Dr Matson caught one last glimpse of the woman as she set a lipstick smeared glass on the bar before the wait staff closed the privacy curtain.

Dr Matson fidgeted and lost interest in the guest speaker after the first slide. The expensive whiskey and the gourmet meal did not hold his interest either. Dr Matson could not resist the woman’s allure. The sounds of the sirens of antiquity beckoned him to their island. He stood up in the middle of the lecture and did not bother to excuse himself from the table. His heart beat faster in anticipation of what waited for him as he walked towards the bar. A waiter held open the privacy curtain for him and unleashed the caged animal. Dr Matson felt free to stalk his prey. His grey eyes scanned the empty room. Disappointment usurped the thrill of the hunt.

“Hey, baby,” Dr Matson said as he plucked an olive from the garnish tray from behind the bar.

“Yes,” the bartender said. She suppressed the annoyance in her voice as she turned around to face Dr Matson.

“Honey, do you know what happened to the woman in the red dress?” Dr Matson asked.

“I think she went downstairs to dance. A famous DJ from Europe performs in half an hour,” she said. The bartender twirled a lock of her blond hair. “May I get you a drink, sir?”

Dr Matson did not recognize the bartender, but he enjoyed what he saw. He smiled, touched his gold watch and said, “Call me Dr Matson, but I’ll pass on the drink.”

“Are you sure, Dr Matson?" She leaned in close to him. "I have excellent bar side manners,” she said. He breathed in the smell of her perfume, but his thoughts lingered on the woman in red.

“Tempting, but no,” Dr Matson said. He turned away to leave the room.

 “Too bad, you won’t have me to yourself for much longer,” she said. She reached for another martini glass on the top shelf.

“Why is that?” Dr Matson asked as he turned around towards her and admired her figure.

“After the dinner talk this place turns into a private VIP area,” the bartender said as she sliced lemons for cocktail garnish.

“Velvet ropes and bouncers don’t deter me,” Dr Matson said. “You know where to find me,” she said.

Dr Matson’s increased his stride in his polished Italian dress shoes to catch up with the woman in red. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said with excitement.

The woman paused and resisted the urge to turn around. Instead she continued across the empty dance floor. She felt the stares from the staff setting up the DJ booth as they drifted into fantasy land. Dr Matson’s hand curled around her sinewy caramel colored arm toned by hours in the gym. She winced when he touched her and turned around to face him.

“Hello, did you enjoy your drink?” Dr Matson asked. He held onto her arm enthralled with her sultry green eyes and black voluminous hair. She looked at him with a tinge of anger and he let go of her arm but felt entwined in a trance.

She caught his eyes wander over the curves of her form fitted red dress, and she bit her lip to set the hook in his imagination.

“Yes, thank you for the club soda,” she said as she rubbed her arm where he touched her.

“Club soda?” he asked in disbelief. “Please allow me to buy you a drink to match your sophistication.” “Thank you for the drink, but I must go,” she said. She tossed her hair and turned away from him. “Why leave before the music?” His warm hand touched the exposed skin on her lower back.

 “I am bored, and no one talks to me,” she said.

“Join me for a drink, and when the DJ performs we can dance. My name is Dr Matson,” he said. Aware of the lecherous stares from the other men in the room he pulled her close to him and enveloped her petite frame. He smiled as their heads and shoulders slumped in defeat when she did not resist him. He claimed his possession. She turned around to face him and pushed him away after he held her for a moment.

“So you’re a doctor?” she asked. She surveyed the impeccable details of his wardrobe. “One more drink and I’ll give the evening another chance. My name is Lilia,” she said as she extended her dainty hand towards him.

Her Latin accent lashed his mind with lascivious thoughts. His nostrils filled with the scent of lavender when he kissed her hand with French tipped fingernails. “A pleasure to meet you, Lilia. How about a martini or a few?” he asked.

“No, I prefer tequila. It makes me do naughty things,” she said.

“I bet it does,” he said. His arm slithered around her petite waist and pulled her close to him. He resisted the urge to explore other parts of her body as he led her towards a private table.

She ignored her intuition and held on to his hand as they crossed the crowded dance floor to the restaurant exit. She enjoyed his charm and rent was due next week.

“Sir, did you enjoy yourself tonight?” the valet asked Dr Matson as he admired the young woman who shivered next to the him.

“Hurry up with my car,” Dr Matson said. He noticed the valet’s eyes traced the symmetry of his young companion and he pulled her close to him. She clung to him for warmth in the cool San Diego evening as the pain throbbed in her feet from her six-inch heels. She ignored the furtive stares of the men and the frowns of the woman who entered the club. A car with a V12 engine approached the front of the restaurant, and she was no longer the center of attention. Does he own this car? she wondered as she read the license plate.

“Your car, sir,” the valet said. He held the door open for the doctor.

Dr Matson’s ignored the valet as he scrolled through the emails on his cellphone. The valet shut the door, disgusted he did not receive a tip from the driver of the exotic sports car, and walked towards the valet stand. 

“Excuse me! Do you only open doors for the driver?” Lilia asked.

The valet stopped, turned around, and saw the attractive Hispanic woman with her hands on her well-shaped hips and pursed lips glare at him.

“Miss, your boyfriend is a terrible tipper,” the valet said.

“He is not my boyfriend,” she said in defiance. “You got what you deserve because you did not bother to open the door for me,” she said.

The valet held the car door open for her and enjoyed the sight of her toned legs in heels slide across the leather seat. He glanced at the doctor, engrossed in his cellphone and oblivious to his companion. The valet thought, What the hell, I’ll take a chance.

“Please allow me to make it up to you, Miss. I valet on the side but own a gym in town. Stop by the gym and I will provide a custom work out plan for you," he said. He handed her his black and gold business card. “You’re not a priority in his world, but I would give you all the attention you deserve.”

She noticed the valet’s cheap watch. “You can’t afford me," she said. She ignored his card and slammed the car door shut. 

“I thought this car belonged to you,” she said to the doctor. She stroked the rich leather interior with her dainty hand.

“How did you know this car belonged to me?” Dr Matson asked. He slid the cell phone in his jacket pocket and revved the engine. He enjoyed the attention he received from the onlookers in line who took pictures of his car while they waited to enter the restaurant turned dance club.

“The license plate gave it away,” she said. She kicked off her heels and plunged her toes into the plush floor mats.

“Does the plate offend you?” he asked.

“It is a bit over the top,” she said as she opened the vanity mirror to apply some lipstick.

 “The female form is my canvas, and I create works of art where flaws of nature incongruent with society’s ideals of beauty existed,” Dr Matson said.

“So you’re a plastic surgeon huh? Boob Doc?” she asked. she considered the vanity plate with Boob Doc printed on it as an indication of too much money for his own good and found this more offensive than the license plate.

Dr Matson turned his attention from the tight dresses in line for the club and enjoyed the sight of the seat belt across his companion. “Yes, one of the best in the world, but you don’t need any of my help,” he said.

She ignored his comment. “Please turn up the heat,” she said. “I can arrange that,” he said as he squeezed her thigh.

“No, silly, the car heater - I am cold,” she said. She brushed his hand away from her legs.

His hand returned to her thigh after he turned up the heat. She squeezed his warm hand in between her thighs. He leaned over and glanced at her chest, curious if she might be a patient but concluded a greater master then himself was responsible for those works of art. He tried to kiss her, but she moved her head away from his puckered lips.

“Ay Papi, thank you for the drinks, but I had other things in mind for tonight,” she said as she reached for the door latch.

“Of course, check the glove box” he said. He slumped in the leather seat after he depressed the button to open the glove compartment.

She opened the glove compartment and reached for the envelope. Rent this month and extra, she thought as thumbed through the stack of hundred dollar bills.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“Ay Papi, you can have me all day tomorrow.”

He would have paid more to listen to her Latin voice and explore her irresistible body. He revved the engine, accelerated out of the restaurant parking lot and merged into traffic.

“Let’s go for a drive in the hills, and I want you to drive fast,” she giggled.

“You are in the right car for speed." He weaved in and out of traffic until he reached the exit towards the secluded hills.

“So what do you want to do after our racing fun?” she asked.

He ignored her question while he lined up his car to cut the apex of the turn like he was taught at Laguna Seca Racing School. She allowed his hand to roam and to caress her cheek while his Italian shoe increased pressure on the gas pedal. The acceleration pinned her into the luxurious leather seat and her hands covered her face while she laughed. She enjoyed the rush of adrenaline from the speed and acceleration of the sports car.

“I thought we would visit a secluded bed and breakfast on the ocean after our spirited romp through the hills,” Dr Matson said. He loved to carve up the corners on the rural roads of San Diego and his buxom companion who enjoyed the thrill was worth the price of admission.

“I would like that very much, and I hope the walls are thin,” she said. She held onto the door grab handle to brace her petite body before the car cut through the next corner.

“That is enough speed for tonight,” Dr Matson said. He double tapped the left paddle shifter on the steering wheel to down shift before the last corner he took at high speed.

“Don’t be a bore, I want more speed,” she said. She unlatched her seat belt to lean in close to him.

“It is pitch black on these backroads; we can go fast in the morning,” Dr Matson said. His eyes strained to see in the darkness and avoid the loose gravel shoulders of the narrow road.

“These cars crave speed, and you need some motivation to satisfy the craving,” she said. She slid the top of dress to reveal her lace bra that struggled to contain her ample assets. He resisted her pleas for more speed so she set them free with a flick of her fingers.

She swatted his hand away. “No, no, no,” she said as she licked her red lips. “You must go faster! This is the checkered flag,” she said and threw her bra on the dash. He mashed the accelerator to claim his prize.