He ignored my comment and also ignored all those other women as he looked me up and down. “Well, Ms. London,” he said as he raised his glass in a toast, “I must say, you were definitely worth the wait.”
As much as I didn’t want to be, I was flattered by his obvious flirting. He stared at me with those golden brown eyes, which I hadn’t really noticed the first time we met. Here in this bar, surrounded by other women who wished they were sitting in my place, I was starting to think they were the most beautiful shade of brown I’d ever seen. The uneasiness I’d felt evaporated from my body. He was making me feel very at ease, maybe even too much at ease. As a matter of fact, every emotion I might have been feeling before walking into that bar was no more. Now the only thing I felt was—and I’m ashamed to say this—wet.
He gestured to the empty space in front of me on the bar. “So, what can I get you?”
“How about an apple martini?” I’d never had one of those in my life, but I’d just seen a rerun of Sex and the City on cable and one of the ladies had ordered one. What woman didn’t live vicariously through Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha?
Tony ordered my drink, and while we waited, I started in on the small talk. “What about you? What are you drinking?”
He picked up his glass and took a sip. “Hennessy.” Another sip. “But I usually drink rum.” He shrugged, looked at the drink in his hand, and then looked at me. “For some reason I felt like trying something different today.” He swallowed the last of his Hennessy.
“So, how was it?” I wasn’t intentionally trying to flirt with him, but I think it came across that way. I’d have to work on that. Be more careful. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. I was just here to talk; that was it. And to get back at Harris for the smack and that bitch he was seeing behind my back.
“It was good, but then I expected it to be. Dark liquor never lets me down. It’s the only thing I drink. I have this thing for dark ... stuff.” While I was worrying about sending the wrong message, Tony was sending his message loud and clear. And it scared the hell out of me that I was becoming aroused by it.
The bartender set my drink in front of me and took away Tony’s empty glass to get him another. I picked up the martini and took a sip, then another, and then a gulp.
“Thirsty?” Tony asked with a chuckle.
I looked down at my glass. On Sex and the City, the woman had sipped it, not drunk it down like Gatorade after a soccer game. “Oh, uh, yeah, I guess I really needed that drink.”
“Nervous?” Tony inquired.
“A little. But more stressed than anything,” I replied, taking another gulp.
“Listen, I don’t mean to be stressing you out.”
“It’s not you. I wouldn’t be here if it was you,” I assured him. “It’s my life that’s stressing me out.”
“Maybe we need to change that?”
“Maybe you could start with my husband....” I allowed my words to trail off. Did I really just almost make the mistake of telling another man about my issues with my husband? I wasn’t a cheat, never had been, but even I knew that the rules of Adultery 101 included not feeding the other person information about your spouse.
“You’re married. I figured as much,” Tony said as the bartender placed another Hennessy in front of him. “I mean, you have a daughter. I can’t imagine her father ever letting someone like you get away. He’d be a fool.” He picked up his drink. “Besides, that rock is a dead giveaway.” He winked and took a sip.
“So, it doesn’t bother you to have a drink in a hotel bar with a married woman?”