Since You Asked

The gentleman comes to sit next to me at the bar. I’m just sitting there, scrolling through messages on my phone, looking like a million dollars. My chestnut hair falls in soft waves over my ears, framing a face that has been artfully made up to look natural. I’m wearing a simple peacock blue jersey dress that is cut demurely but hugs my body in all the right places, paired with a necklace in blue and gold with rhinestone accents and matching earrings. The overall effect is tasteful and definitely eye-catching but does not appear flashy or vulgar. I have a nearly finished cocktail in front of me, which I am studiously ignoring. The bartender, whose name is Stan, comes over to ask the gentleman what he wants to drink. He asks for a Glenmorangie, straight up. Then he adds “Since I took a seat beside her without asking her like a gentleman, please give this lady a drink on me.”

I ignore this, and Stan sets a napkin in front of me. I look up, surprised. Stan winks and says “The gentleman who sat next to you so rudely has asked me to give you a drink from him. Would you like the same again?”

I look slowly to my left, where the bar stool next to me is empty. Then to my right. A smartly dressed businessman, mid-thirties, a little too good-looking, is smiling at me over the rim of his whiskey glass. I stare coolly at him for a moment, then shake my head. “No apology is necessary; I wasn’t saving the seat for anyone.” Smiling, I push the cocktail napkin back to Stan and return my attention to my phone.

For a few minutes, I type an email to my sister. She’s in hospital having a fairly unnecessary surgery. We’re both fortunate to have been born with strikingly good looks. She is parlaying hers into a career in front of the TV cameras, and she spares no expense to make sure she is the best-looking news anchor on her local station. Although I say so myself, I believe that my looks are just about right for my profession. Beautiful, but not perfect. I still need to be approachable.

After clicking on send, I sit back a little and finish my drink. When I look up to catch Stan’s eye, the businessman beside me says “Please, I insist. I was terribly rude to just take a seat without saying anything to you.”

He has a deep, soft voice with an English accent. I raise my left eyebrow, studying him carefully, then smile and nod slightly. “That is very gracious of you. I was too busy to notice your arrival at all, but I would enjoy another drink. Perhaps, in honor of your country, I should have a Pimm’s cup?”

The businessman nods to Stan, and says “Another Glenmorangie for me, and a Pimm’s cup for the lady, please.” Stan smiles broadly, picks up a highball glass, and sets about making the cocktail for me. He anticipates a substantial tip, as the gentleman is clearly out to impress.

As we sip our drinks, the businessman hands me what looks to be a business card. “My name’s Charlie. Thank you for honoring me with your company. How should I address you?”

I look at the card. It bears the name Charles Fairfax and a family crest, together with an email address. Not a business card, then. He must be wealthy. He certainly sounds aristocratic. I nod and slip the card into my clutch purse, setting it beside me on the bar. “I am delighted to meet you, Charlie. My name is Catherine, but please call me Kit. Are you here on business, or vacation?”

He frowns slightly into his glass. “Is anything really just one or the other?” he asks mildly. “I’m looking at some investment property here, but much of my time is free to spend as I please. One should never make real estate decisions after drinking alcohol.”

With that, he tips his glass towards me and takes another sip. “And if I may ask, what brings a beautiful lady like yourself out to a hotel to drink by yourself? Either you have important correspondence to attend to, or you have quarreled with your companions. Which is it?”

“Neither and both,” I reply calmly. “I am traveling with my mother, and we both find that frequent absence makes the heart grow fonder. I left her at the casino and came here to spend some time growing fonder of her.”

He chuckles quietly. “So you were out and about. That explains your beautiful dress and jewelry. It’s rather wasted in a darkened bar. Although the bartender seems very taken by your outfit.”

I look up, startled. Stan is polishing glasses at the end of the bar, but he is indeed watching us. “I know something you don’t,” I say coyly. “Stan isn’t watching me, he’s watching you.”

It’s Charlie’s turn to be surprised. He raises his glass to Stan before taking a sip, and Stan nods to him, before coming over to us, asking “Can I get you something else to drink?”

Charlie studies him for a few seconds. “Actually, I find a late supper is a good way to end the evening. Do you have something light and suitable for us to eat?”

Stan produces two menus and passes them to us. “I know this is a European indulgence,” says Charlie to me, “but would you care for a light supper? Perhaps a fruit platter or even a charcuterie plate?”

I give this some thought. “I don’t care to eat while sitting at a bar, but a meze sounds very appealing – although it would be too much food for me.”

Charlie turns to Stan and passes him a black credit card. “We’ll take the meze to share, and another round of drinks to go with it when it arrives. We’ll be moving over to that table by the window.” He places a fifty-dollar bill on the bar as a tip. Stan pockets the tip, thanks him and goes back to arrange for the food and drinks.

I smile. This is going well. Stan and I will both make money tonight – maybe even together. Charlie stands and offers me his arm to escort me over to the window table. The lights of the city below and the darkness of the lake make a peaceful vista as we continue to sip our drinks and chat. I turn my phone to silent mode and place it in my purse on the table. Charlie notices the gesture. He seems to notice everything.

“It’s rare these days to see people ignore their devices,” he comments, loosening his tie. He settles back comfortably into the plush circular sofa, crossing his legs and turning so that he is facing me. “It makes one feel important, having the complete attention of one’s companion.”

“Why, Charlie,” I say coquettishly, “are you flirting with me? We’ve only just met.”

“I’m a bad boy, I can’t help myself.” He teases. “Given the opportunity to spend time with a beautiful woman in such a luxurious spot, I feel compelled to roll the dice and take my chances.”

I survey him speculatively, but I don’t reply. Instead, I pick up my drink and stare out at the view of the city. After a few minutes of silence, he speaks again.

“So, Kit. You’re traveling with your mother. Is that business or pleasure?”

I can’t complain about his question. After all, I asked him the same thing earlier. “My mother owns a small fashion house, and I will inherit it in a few years. We travel for business. But it does mean that we see rather a lot of each other.” I cast an amused glance at him.

Gallantly, he takes the opportunity. “So your exquisite taste in dress and jewelry is promotion of your business. Now I understand.”

Stan chooses this moment to appear with a meze plate, and place settings for each of us. He murmurs to Charlie “Sir, we’ll be closing the bar shortly. I’ll bring you the drinks you ordered, but do you want anything else before I close out your tab?”

Charlie eyes him and considers. “This is more food than I was expecting. Why don’t you add a bottle of Glenmorangie for the table, and come and join us after the bar closes?”

Stan looks sharply at me, and I shrug my agreement. “Thank you, sir,” he says quietly, “That is very generous of you. I’ll do that.”

Once Stan has disappeared, I confront Charlie. “Isn’t that a rather hasty decision? You’ve hardly met the man.”

Charlie smiles lazily. “Ah, but you have, haven’t you, Kit? I think the three of us could have an enjoyable evening.”

I wasn’t expecting him to be so direct. I pop a Kalamata olive in my mouth and spread some hummus and tabouleh on a piece of pita bread while I consider my reply. Charlie waits patiently, enjoying my discomfiture. I swallow the last of my loaded pita bread, take another sip from my drink, and take a deep breath.

“It seems you are under the impression that I am a woman of – let’s say – easy virtue. What led you to that conclusion?”

Notice I didn’t commit one way or the other. Too early to tell how to play this.

Charlie nods. “Well, aside from the fact that a beautiful woman chooses to sit at a hotel bar alone wearing a stunning outfit, and the fact that when you were unsure of my preferences, you set up the bartender for my consideration, and the rapacious way you checked out the credit card and cash tip, I’d say it was just a feeling I had.”

I look into his placid eyes and laugh. “You’re very confident. How embarrassing for you if you’re making a mistake.”

He reaches out to brush the back of his hand against my hair. “I seldom make mistakes. And no one ever died from embarrassment. And I believe the three of us will have fun together. What do you say? You could choose to walk away in a huff, in which case the bartender and I will finish the evening together, and he will make a good deal of money. Or you could choose to stay, and I will make it well worth your while.”

The lights above the bar go out. Stan walks over with three drinks and the bottle of Glenmorangie on a tray, together with the check. Charlie signs the check and retrieves his card, and Stan says “I’ll be right back, sir.”

Charlie smiles at me again. “I’m going to the restroom,” he says, “and by the time I return I expect you will have reached your decision.”

Stan returns while Charlie is still gone. “What’s the deal?”

I lean forward and say rapidly “We spend the night and get paid.”

Stan says “Why are you doing this? Is there something else?”

I sigh. I’ll have to split the other payment. “Since you asked. Mrs. Fairfax is looking for dirt on her errant husband. This should fit the bill nicely. I already have voice recordings and photos. But a wild night should be worth a bonus, don’t you think?”

Stan grins in delight as Charlie reappears. “Hello, sir. I was just getting to know Kit here. May I also call you Charlie?”