John
It was a long day at work today, and one of those days that seems to go on for weeks and weeks. Nothing in particular made it drag. I went about my usual tasks and meetings, and everything went as smoothly as it can in a dynamic business. Yet, it seemed to just never end. So when the clock finally hit eight, I decided to grab a whiskey at the Matterhorn before heading home.
I figured it would be my usual thing. I’d imbibe some excellent alcohol, watch the band play, and relax a little bit before heading out. What I did not anticipate was seeing my son out on a date with a girl way out of his league. The woman he’s with tonight is utterly gorgeous with curly brown hair, big brown eyes, and a lush figure. I can tell from her body language that she isn’t into my son. Even a blind man could tell. She’s lost in a daydream, alternating between sipping her wine and staring out the window.
Not that Brian’s a catch. I wouldn’t date him, and he didn’t exactly help himself by pre-gaming before showing up. He’s flushed and sweaty, his eyes sitting heavy as if he hasn’t slept in days. His movements are sloppy, his arms flailing loosely around the table as he talks. I’m surprised he hasn’t knocked over a glass of wine yet.
But then, Brian spots me from across the room. I don’t look at him because it would be too telling if we suddenly made eye contact. But of course, my son’s a coward. He knows he’s not supposed to be drinking. The little shit just got a DUI a few months ago, and he’s supposed to stick to seltzer and orange juice. Instead, he’s here, soused out of his mind and trying to romance a gorgeous woman too. What a piece of work.
Of course, my son knows he’s been caught red-handed. There’s a carafe of wine on their table, for crying out loud. The woman he’s with lifts her wine glass delicately to her lips, and I watch, entranced, as she sips, her slim neck on display. God, she’s beautiful.
But then, my son springs into action. He jumps to his feet, and casting one last panicked look my way, literally runs out of the restaurant, leaving his date with the check if I’m not mistaken.
Fuck. I raised Brian better than that, or at least I tried. I blame Kara, my ex-wife. We divorced ten years ago when Brian was fifteen. She was a piece of work, but the worst part was that she was always spoiling our son rotten. She let him believe he was better than everybody else and made him think that the world would be handed to him on a silver platter. In a way, much of it was.
After all, I’m the CEO of Metro Media and I got my son his job as a middle manager. Now, it isn’t entirely nepotism because Brian is decent in his position. However, for his job, you generally need to go through a lengthy interview process, and even submit to a psychological assessment. My son did none of that because frankly, he wouldn’t pass. It’s a harsh thing to admit about your child, but I genuinely don’t think Brian has the capacity to excel. His egocentrism and lack of compassion are dual sore thumbs.
But why would this gorgeous woman date him? I watch her discreetly from across the restaurant. She looks relieved, and yet also agitated at once, chewing on her plush pink pout. I imagine she probably feels pretty lousy right about now, even if she was ditched by my son.
I decide to take advantage of the opportunity and stand, getting ready to make my way across the room to introduce myself. It is my fault Brian took off after all. I begin wracking my brain for the right opening line.
Finally, I’m at her table and smile into those chocolate brown eyes. She’s even more gorgeous up close, with ivory skin, long lashes, and an enticing hollow between her full breasts.
“I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful view. Do you mind if I sit down and enjoy it with you?”
She blushes. Am I talking about her, or the view out the window? The girl is nervous but then she nods.
“Yes, of course. Please help yourself,” she speaks in a melodious tone. Shivers go down my spine, and I imagine her saying my name as she cries out with pleasure.
I lift my brow at her.
“Did your boyfriend have an emergency he needed to tend to?”
I’m happy to see that she laughs genuinely at this. The sound is beautiful enough to instill joy in the most desperately depressed of persons.
“Oh no, Brian isn’t my boyfriend. We were just out on a casual get-together. In all honesty, I am not attracted to him at all. He’s just … well, I don’t want to complain, but he’s my boss and you know how that goes sometimes. You can’t say no.”
Oh shit. I’m alarmed at the fact that my son has practically bullied this young woman into dating him. And here I was ashamed at his behavior when he ran off. Clearly, running off is the least of it. Damn, my son is such a piece of shit. He’s heading down so many wrong paths, and fast.
But this isn’t the time to dwell on Brian.
“Hmm. I don’t know what his problem is, but I know it would take a whole lot to scare me away from a woman like you. You are a very beautiful woman… ah, I’m so sorry. I haven’t even asked you for your name yet.”
She blushes at this, and a shy smile illuminates her face as she responds.
“I’m Megan, and you’re very kind. I don’t get many compliments like that from men in New York City.”
How is this girl not getting courted day in and day out? She’s stunning, humble, and absolutely ravishing in that tiny cocktail dress with her lush assets. I’m amazed, although I don’t want to come off as too strong and scare her off either. Megan seems to be quite modest, which is attractive.
“John Miller. Nice to meet you, Megan.”
I order us a new bottle of wine as we chat and get to know each other a bit more. Conversation flows naturally between us, even more so than I’d expected. After all, she’s literally young enough to be my daughter, and in fact, she was on a date with my son not twenty minutes ago. But I’m here now, and Brian’s in the past.
Megan shares that she grew up in rural New Jersey. Her family owns on a ten-acre plot of land and living in sync with nature is a value her parents instilled in her as she was growing up. They had summer gardens for produce and goats for making milk and cheese. She tells me about playing in the river behind the house and how she would try to catch tadpoles in her hand. She even tells me about the time she decided to take a nap in a poison oak patch along the water. I laugh a bit, and mention that I did something like that too when I was young. She giggles, and the connection between us is electric.
Then, Megan shares fond memories of the time she spent with her parents, Robert and Maggie. She jokes that her favorite part about going home for the holidays is her mom’s famous home cooked mostaccioli. It’s partly the wine talking, but I can feel her heart yearn for home as she talks about how much she misses her parents. Good. I like a woman who has strong family ties.
Megan looks at me and smiles a bit. Her features are almost glowing in the candlelight, and I catch my breath at her beauty, unable to inhale for a moment.
“They’re so proud of me. They brag about me to the whole neighborhood, telling everyone that their little girl lives in the big city and makes the fancy billboards that light up Times Square at night. They only wish we could get together more often.”
I make a mental note of that fact. Close family ties. A huge plus. At that moment, the waitress comes over.
“Can I clear this up for you?” she asks in a friendly manner. Vivian knows exactly who I am, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Yes,” I say. “Thank you, and the bill please.” Then I turn to Megan.
“Would you like to go for a walk in Central Park?”
Her eyes grow wide with a mix of amusement and surprise.
“Now? At night? It’s dark out, and to be frank I’m a little buzzed from all of this wine.”
I smile gently at her, taking her small hand in my own.
“No, it’s fine. There’s still some light out, and the weather is lovely. I promise, I’ll take good care of you. You can use me as a guide.”
She smiles shyly at me before taking a deep breath. Then she meets my eyes.
“Sure, John. Let’s go for a walk.”
Nodding, I cover our bill before standing to help Megan out of her chair. She’s luscious, curvy, and the sweet scent of vanilla hits my nostrils as she gets up. Now, I can’t wait to explore a moonlit Central Park with this ravishing woman on my arm.