The Glass

Her stone grey pencil skirt caused her to shift uncomfortably on the bar stool.

She hated bar stools. And blind dates. And sitting on bar stools in pencil skirts, waiting on blind dates, even in nice restaurants like this one.

But here she was. On a bar stool, in a "neo" Italian restaurant by the water, waiting for her "blind date" to show up. The bartender gently put her glass of house merlot in front of her, next to a cork board with orange scented olives and other accoutrements, and asked if she wanted to start a tab. She shook her head as she took a bite of olive and sipped her wine.

It was her best friend Olivia that talked her into this date. After breaking off her engagement of two years, Clei had thrown herself into her consultant work. While her portfolios as a luxury event planner quickly expanded, her love life went completely cold, a fact that concerned her circle of girlfriends. Finally, her best friend took matters into her own hands. Asking her to meet her at a new restaurant that opened up by the piers, Clei came straight from her appointment with her last client and ordered from the happy hour menu while she waited - only to find out that it was all a set up. “Sis, don’t be mad at me,” Olivia said on the phone, the call from her interrupting her random thoughts as she waited on her glass of wine. “I got a friend that I want you to meet, he’ll be there in a few minutes...he knows what you look like, his name is…”

Clei drained her glass. The 20 minutes she told her best friend she’d give him were up.

The bartender appeared at her elbow, the bottle of house wine in hand. “Another glass?” he asked. As she went to tell him no, a voice behind her said, “Not of that Kool-aid. Do you have the Messorio? 2016?” The bartender’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely, sir! Will you be having a glass as well?” Clei turned around and looked into whiskey colored eyes framed in lush lashes, smooth skin the color of high quality chocolate, and the prettiest white teeth she’d ever seen. He smiled at her. “Only if the lady wants some company”. Clei blushed slightly, then slowly nodded.

Maybe this blind date wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

The whiskey colored eyes peered at her as he sat down. Clei smirked. “Kool-aid? That’s a little snarky for a first date, no?” His face lit up with a smile, the pretty white teeth on full display again, as the bartender reappeared with two glasses of the requested wine, as well as the bottle. “Decanted, sir?” he asked. Whiskey Eyes nodded, and the bartender uncorked the wine, pouring it into a broad bottomed glass decanter. Clei watched as he then poured wine into two glasses, enough for a few sips. Whiskey Eyes nodded his thanks at the bartender, and then turned back to Clei. “If you want to drink sweet, fake drinks - order Kool-aid at the bar. If you want to actually drink wine...then let’s drink wine. We’ll sip now...and then again in about 20 minutes. From the decanter”. Clei raised an eyebrow. “How do you know I’ll be here in 20 minutes?”

Whiskey Eyes swirled his wine in his glass, the slow smile lighting up his eyes in confidence. “You will”.

Clei, in spite of herself, blushed.

“So.” He took a delicate sip of the wine, gently pulling it through his teeth to aerate it, before deciding to swallow. “Aside from ruining your taste buds with terrible choices in merlot - what else do you do?” Clei laughed, a laugh mired in equal parts genuine amusement and indignation. “Do all of your dates go like this? Where you insult the taste of the other person?” Whiskey Eyes smiled. That smile was so captivating. It might be what was keeping her here, Clei thought as she went to take a sip. Outside of that, though - Nice Eyes was a bit of an asshole. “Never. I’m not insulting you. I’m helping you. Close your eyes and trust me. Take a sip.” He stood up, standing next to her.

Clei raised an eyebrow at him, but took a sip. She swallowed. “Okay...so it’s better than I was drinking. That doesn’t mean that what I was drinking was…” “Complete trash? Yes it does. That’s exactly what it means. May I come closer?” Whiskey Eyes, still standing, gestured to the side of her. Clei raised an eyebrow, and nodded. “Has anyone ever told you that you can be…” “Rude? Callous? Abrasive? I’ve heard that a time or two before,” he chuckled, stepping closer into her space. “But wrong? Never. Do you mind closing your eyes for me?” Now Clei leaned back, looking at him. “You want me to close my eyes for a man that I met 2.5 seconds ago? I don’t think so”.

He looked down at her. Leaning in, he whispered, “We’re sitting at a bar...full of people...and we’re the only people of color present. I’d have to be a complete idiot to try anything stupid right now. But more importantly...the worst thing that could happen is you close your eyes and either I say something really stupid to piss you off, or my breath stinks. I don’t think either of those things are about to happen. Do you?” His whiskey eyes peered into hers.

Clei looked back at him for some time. It was as if something shifted. “Don’t say anything stupid”.

He smiled. Coming ever closer, Clei could smell subtle hints of spiced honey and sandalwood, the warmth radiating from his chocolate skin permeating the space between them. She shifted a little in her chair. He had done nothing but come into her space...and yet, she was already aroused. He stood slightly behind her, his lips to her ear. “Close your eyes...and take another sip”. Clei took a breath and closed her eyes, prepared to take another sip. The sound of his words kissed the nape of her neck, as a lover’s might.

“Sipping a glass of wine is like making love. Sometimes...you want to get straight to the point. To the orgasm. Right?” He gently helped her guide her glass back to her mouth for a sip. “You drink that house merlot, that’s what you’ll get. A quick buzz. The nice feeling. But a good glass of wine...that’s the one that you savor. It’s the one that starts smooth. Silky. Take a sip”. He encouraged her, helping her put the glass to her lips as she took a sip. “Don’t swallow it just yet”. His baritone went even deeper, it’s velvet undertones mimicking the wine. “Embrace how it feels in your mouth. It’s like loving. The best kind starts slow...smooth...like velvet. It caresses your senses. And as it picks up, you feel the build up. The rise in the flavor. In the intensity. Maybe you play with it in your mouth”. Clei squirmed a little in her chair, not sure which was more arousing. “If you caress it right…”, he finished, gently touching the curve in her neck and encouraging her to swallow, “the finish is smooth. Satisfying. And you’ll still want more”. His mouth hovered, just behind her ear, at the curve of her chin. “You can open your eyes”. He stepped back slightly, looking at her expectantly.

Clei’s eyes fluttered open slowly as looked at the now empty glass in her hand. She swallowed again and gently put the glass down. Looking at him, she said softly, “I had no idea.” He smiled again, a hidden dimple revealing itself in his cheek. “I know. Would you like to grab a bite? There’s a grilled octopus with roasted fingerlings and salsa verde on the menu that goes amazingly with that same wine...and now we have the bottle”. Clei fingered the crease in her neck where his voice just sat. “Octopus isn’t my thing...but pasta is. I’ll have a bite with you.” The smile, if it could get more beatific, did as his whole face lit up. “Nigel, my man”, he turned to the bartender, gesturing, “I’ll take that table now, if it’s still available”.

Nigel, putting the finishing touches on a smoky negroni for a customer, looked up and smiled. “You got it, Nathan”. He gestured to the hostess, who went to get the menus together for the couple. “Remind me to get you to come down here on Saturday nights to do the sommelier class”, Nigel quipped, sending the drink out with a waiter. “You should come too, beautiful lady”. As Clei’s face scrunched up slightly, thinking about the conversation she had with Olivia earlier, a voice to the left of her caught her attention. “I am so sorry I’m so late”, a voice with a hint of a Southern twang said, reaching out to tap her elbow. “Cleisean, right? I’m William. Olivia gave me a recent pic of you so that i’d know it was you - i got caught in major traffic coming across the bridge, and my phone died and my car charger wasn’t working and…” His voice trailed off as the realization dawned on her.

This was her blind date. William.

Clei looked back and forth between Nathan and William, the newcomer, as the hostess came up behind them and asked, with the slightest of smirks, “Am I seating for two? Or three?” Nigel, who was prepping two new wine glasses to go with their decanter of wine, raised an eyebrow. Nathan watched her expectantly, but said nothing. Clei looked at Nathan in his eyes, holding the gaze for what seemed like forever. Without turning around, she addressed the hostess: “Just two, please. For my date and I”.

She finally turned to William. “I’m very sorry. I already have a date”.

Wait till she called Olivia later.