A few minutes into dessert, I heard the sounds of the street, which meant the door to the restaurant had opened. I didn’t look up, but I felt someone walk past our table. I turned around, but no one stood out. There was chatter, dining, laughter; everyone seemed normal enough. Then I felt the eyes burning into my back. I turned around, and spotted a man at the bar, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was talking to the bartender. The guy who did appear to be looking in my direction was some dude who had had a few drinks too many; I doubt he could even actually see me.
“I feel like someone is watching me Yvonne. Bartender. Look. Discreetly.” She mad it look like she was looking at me. “I can’t tell. If he is, then he’s pretty good at hiding it.” As if prompted, I took my purse and got up from the table. I moved to sit beside the man who had been speaking with the bartender. I asked for a martini. “Sure you’re supposed to be having that?” the stranger asked. “What business of yours is that? I retorted without even taking as much as a glance in his direction.
“So you like your dress…” I froze at the spot. I finally turned my head, probably a bit too mechanically, to look at him. “D-David?” I asked. He smiled…that heavenly corner smile. Dark hair, brown eyes, clean shaven, toned body, looking very sharp in black, looked and smelled like money… “B-but I don’t know you”, I swallowed the lump in my throat, “I don’t remember meeting any David”. “I never said we met. Hi I’m David.” He stretched his hand out to me. “Stacy”, I managed to say, ignoring his outstretched hand. I turned back to look for Yvonne. “She’s back at your hotel room, not too worry. I had arranged for her to be driven back there.”
“Thank you . I like the dress.” “The dress should be eternally grateful to you”, he smiled. I took a sip of my martini. He took the glass from my hand. “I need you to remember tonight”, He said. He took my hand, and walked me get my jacket. A car was already waiting outside to take us back to the hotel. He requested for the keys, and asked his chauffeur to go home. We drove to the parking garage at the hotel. We were parked for about 2 minutes when he asked, “how old are you?”. I was a bit taken aback. “20. You?” “Why do you want to know?” He asked, as his left hand found it’s way up my dress, as his lips visited mine. There was just something about that moment…something that was just pure energy…
This was crazy! Absolutely insane, and stupid. I pushed him away. He smiled, “35. I’m 35.”