The Other White Meat

Her eyes shifted around the restaurant. The man sitting across from her pulled at his blazer, hiding himself. 

A sip of water abated dry lips. Two hands lowered the glass to the table.

"Such a lovely meal. One thing that perplexes me: why a beautiful woman as yourself is using a site like... Well, you know-" The man looked down, barely able to button his blazer. 

"Oh. Not to worry. I like them big." Her red lips pulled into a smile, tongue darting out to moisten. "Taste better."  

Her eyes lowered to an iPhone which had been open the whole night. 

The man loosened his tie. 

"Well, I'm glad we found each other then. It really was a lovely meal." 

"This place is one of the best in the city." 

"Next time I'm buying, though." The man blushed. "And I will not take no for an answer." 

"Not to worry. I know the chef. He's totally giving me a deep discount." 

"Yes, well, I'll supply the next meal. No discussion." He smiled. 

"Ohh, if you insist. I like an assertive fella." 

Sweat beaded up on the man's forehead. 

Her eyes shot to the iPhone beside an empty wine glass, tapping the screen flawlessly with long, red nails. 

"Everything okay?" the man asked. 

"Huh? Oh, yes. Sorry. Unfortunately when you're a woman such as myself, this thing," she lifted the phone between thumb and forefinger, "becomes your best friend." 

The man smiled. "I see." 

He dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. 

The woman stopped. Her manicured hand lowered until the phone rested upon the table. Their eyes locked. 

"Exactly what do you see?" 

Silence, until the man huffed, then a smile and a laugh. He made two pointing hands, pumping the thumbs up and down. "You got me!" 

The woman pressed the phone screen, probably SEND he thought. 

"Oh no, allow me." He got up and rushed behind the woman, pulling the chair back as she stood. 

"Well, thank you--such a gentleman." 

"I'll see you next time, then?" the man said, avoiding eye contact as he tucked his shirt over a considerable waist. 

"Certainly." She pressed power on the phone. "Oh hey, would you like to meet the chef? I just got word he wouldn't mind if we went back there." 

"That--that wouldn't be..." He looked into her eyes, frowned. "All right? Yeah, okay." 

"Excellent. He'll love it! I've told him all about you." 

"Oh really?" 

"Oh yes. They know just how to prepare...food.

The woman’s deep red lips stretched wide as they entered a padded, swinging door. 

THE END


William C Marchese 
Copyright. 

Comments

Unknown said…
Great story, Will!! Keep up the writing!

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