She says nothing... she stands in the entrance to the den in one of my shirts and leans into the wall... the light from the room behind her creates a silhouette of her figure... she moves her right leg over her left and I get a glimpse of the gold from her skin... it sparkles for an instant... I catch it in the corner of my eye... my head twitches but I keep my face buried in the file I am studying... she disappears... like a ghost.... but I hear her footsteps in the creaking floor boards of this old house...
She sold me three shirts the day we met... a blue shirt with a straight collar and french cuffs and two white shirts - both with french cuffs... I began to collect cuff links many years ago... but I don’t have too many shirts that need them... I asked her to help me pick out a couple of ties as well... a solid red tie... that actually is the color of rich dark blood... and a black tie with red and white stripes that angle down - in the style of a school class tie... I didn’t need any of this of course... but it was a good excuse to chat her up... what the hell... I had her measure me for a couple of blazers and I left her my number to call me when they have been re-fitted for me... a couple of days later we were having drinks... two days after that, we met for lunch... the next day... she cooked for me... I closed the deal that night... tonight... she’s in the kitchen picking out a bottle of wine... and I am playing hard to get... I didn’t really have to check that file... I had checked it and triple checked it until I was satisfied it was ready to send out... but I want to make her work for my attention... because I like the way she seduces me... and I think she likes it too...
She comes back to the entrance... she’s holding a bottle of wine... MONDAVI - something we had picked up earlier today... she also has a couple of glasses... tumblers... I don’t have any wine glasses here... she speaks... “I can’t find the wine opener...”
It’s on my desk... I wait for a few seconds to pass before I respond... I reach for the cork screw with my left hand... I feel for it until I find it and grasp it firmly... I wait for a few more seconds before I raise it into the air... she speaks... “is it alright...”
I look up at her... her head is tilted down and she looks at me like a school girl asking for permission...
I nod... slowly and subtly...
She walks to me... like a panther... before she strikes... calculating her steps and anticipating the reaction of her prey... she pauses mid step at the sound of the creaking floor boards... she breaths in and holds it... and takes a gently step forward... her toes press the floor but she keeps her heels high... she takes another step and the floor squeaks... like a mouse... she giggles and I look up at her... she pretends to be embarrassed... I put down the papers in my hand and slowly lean back in my chair... and gaze at her... her smile fades away... “sorry... I’m sorry...”
I tap the cork screw on the desk and watch her walk to me... she’s shy and girlish... she’s delicate and fragile... She is the kind of woman I want... and don’t want... She is easy to fall for and hard to let go... I want to protect her and make her mine... and I want to devour her until she has nothing left to give and leave her a broken and empty women... ruined for any other man...
She stands in front of me and sets the glasses down on the desk and hands me the bottle... I take it with my left hand... cork screw between my fingers... I reach out with my right hand and stroke the outside of her left leg... soft... firm... I reach around to the back of her knee... delicate and fleshy - like an oyster... I move my hand back around to the front of her thigh... I squeeze... I release and begin to move by hand to her buttock... but stop and raise my fingers to feel the bottom of my shirt which she is wearing... like so many before her... it’s always the thin ones... the young ones... the delicate fragile ones - that end up in my shirts... I rub the material between my fingers... I close my eyes and study the weave and the threading like a blind tailor... I can feel the dip and the rise of the weave... the stretch and the flow of the threads... the bounce of the cotton and the fading grip of the starch... she runs her fingers through my hear and brings me out of my trance... I tilt my head up and open my eyes like I was waking up... she looks down at me... we are almost at eye level... she is petite... she raises her right leg up and brings her foot down on my left thigh... I close my eyes again and lower my head... her fingers are still trapped in my hair... I open my eyes and am facing my shirt... her breast rise and fall as she breathes... I think of Carmen... Carmen in my shirt... I shake the shadow of that ghost from my head... she asks... “what’s wrong?”
I smile and look at her... I shake my head smiling at her... she looks good in my shirt... she belongs in my shirt... she wears it as if she had been wearing it for years... I bend forward and plant a kiss on her knee...
I take the bottle and the cork screw and get to working on that... I remember my days as a waiter... every time I open a bottle of wine or pick up a dirty plate... I remember all those damn years as a waiter... I chuckle... and shake my head... those wasted years... were they - wasted years... ?
I pour the wine and hand her a glass... she takes it but lets her fingers linger over mine... she strokes the back of my hand with her index finger... and lifts her glass to her lips... I reach for my glass but my gaze is focused on the back of my hand... the phantom of her touch remains... the hairs on the back of my hand rise and I follow a cold chill up my arm and fades away when I grab the tumbler... I think I am in trouble...
I raise my glass to my lips and take a swallow... a bit smokey... and the after taste hovers on my tongue like a fog from the sea... raping the sands of Tierra Del Fuego...
She sits down on my lap and leans back into my chest as we bury ourselves into the chair
she takes my right arm and drapes it around her waist and we sat there in silence for a long while... drinking and listening to the sounds that old houses make...
She speaks... in a whisper
“did you know this was going to happen...”
“Yes...”
“When did you know?”
“As I was walking to you at the store... I knew...”
She laughs...
“How did you know?”
“It’s what I wanted...”
“Oh...” she takes a drink... “do you always get what you want?”
“Sooner or later... I always get what I want...”
She thinks for a moment before she speaks... she hesitates...
“Have you ever not gotten what you want?”
I take a drink...
“Many times... for a long time I never did get the things that I wanted... but for a long time I did not know what it was that I wanted... but now... I pretty much have the things that I want... and I do not have the things that I don’t want... I have had the things that I wanted and will soon have the things that I am still waiting to get...”
I take a drink... and she takes a drink... she hesitates again before she says anything...
She speaks - “You don’t have the things you don’t want...”
“Exactly... why would I want that?”
“You wouldn’t... and you have had the things that you wanted... and you will soon have the things that you are waiting to have...”
“Yes...”
“What is missing...”
“Nothing... there is nothing missing from my life...”
“Then why do you need... more things...”
“I don’t need anything... I said I wanted a few more things... but I do not need them... I want them... but do not need them... If I lost everything... it would not matter... everything I have can be replaced... If we burned this house down - I would not care...”
“So what is it that you still want?”
I take a long drink... “something - that I can’t buy...”
She takes a drink... “happiness?”
“You can buy happiness...”
“Love?”
“You can rent love by the hour... or for the evening...”
She laughs - “then what... What is it that Victor wants... that he has not gotten yet?”
She stretches to reach the bottle and pours us some more wine...
“Victor... tell me...” she hesitates... perhaps she did not want to hear my answer... “tell me...”
She reaches out to pick up an old note book on my desk... “can this be replaced...” she opens it to a page in the middle and waits for a moment before she begins to read out loud:
I looked and I saw you... sailing away with my heart...
I called out your name... but we drifted too far apart...
I must have misread... the tears that I shed...
As I crumbled and stumbled for you..
I drank and got high... lost my self in a lie...
My heart and my soul broke in two...
I looked and I saw... the storm clouds - rolling in
I called out your name... but the pain... was about to begin...
She stops reading...
And takes a long slow drink...
On my knees at the shore... I could not fight any more...
The devil come take me away...
She stops reading and closes the book..
And I whisper...
In a deep pit of hell... locked away in my cell...
Bleeding for you I shall stay...
- “That is an old draft...” I tell her... “wrote that... eighteen years ago... still can’t get it right...”
She speaks... in a whisper...
“Who is it for?”
“For whomever wants it... nobody... it is for nobody...”
She drinks down all of her wine...
“How many women have you been with...” she whispered...
“Many...”
“Why... why did you have to have many?”
“Because there are not too many good girls in this world... and I have been weeding out the bad ones... looking for that good one... that I can make my own...”
“Do you think I am a good girl?”
“I was hoping that you would be...”
I drink down what’s in my glass
“Victor... are you a bad man?”
“I have been...”
“But are you... have you hurt women...”
“I have...”
“Are you going to hurt me...”
I reach for the bottle... but she stops me...
She kept her hand on my arm for a long time before she released it and got up off my lap...
She walked toward the hall and stopped when she reached the entrance of the den... she turned to look at me... she stood in silence... a silhouette in front of the light... she un-buttons her shirt and pulls it down from her shoulders... she turns to the hall... and lets the shirt fall from her back...
She pauses for a moment before she walks away...
She sold me three shirts the day we met... a blue shirt with a straight collar and french cuffs and two white shirts - both with french cuffs... I began to collect cuff links many years ago... but I don’t have too many shirts that need them... I asked her to help me pick out a couple of ties as well... a solid red tie... that actually is the color of rich dark blood... and a black tie with red and white stripes that angle down - in the style of a school class tie... I didn’t need any of this of course... but it was a good excuse to chat her up... what the hell... I had her measure me for a couple of blazers and I left her my number to call me when they have been re-fitted for me... a couple of days later we were having drinks... two days after that, we met for lunch... the next day... she cooked for me... I closed the deal that night... tonight... she’s in the kitchen picking out a bottle of wine... and I am playing hard to get... I didn’t really have to check that file... I had checked it and triple checked it until I was satisfied it was ready to send out... but I want to make her work for my attention... because I like the way she seduces me... and I think she likes it too...
She comes back to the entrance... she’s holding a bottle of wine... MONDAVI - something we had picked up earlier today... she also has a couple of glasses... tumblers... I don’t have any wine glasses here... she speaks... “I can’t find the wine opener...”
It’s on my desk... I wait for a few seconds to pass before I respond... I reach for the cork screw with my left hand... I feel for it until I find it and grasp it firmly... I wait for a few more seconds before I raise it into the air... she speaks... “is it alright...”
I look up at her... her head is tilted down and she looks at me like a school girl asking for permission...
I nod... slowly and subtly...
She walks to me... like a panther... before she strikes... calculating her steps and anticipating the reaction of her prey... she pauses mid step at the sound of the creaking floor boards... she breaths in and holds it... and takes a gently step forward... her toes press the floor but she keeps her heels high... she takes another step and the floor squeaks... like a mouse... she giggles and I look up at her... she pretends to be embarrassed... I put down the papers in my hand and slowly lean back in my chair... and gaze at her... her smile fades away... “sorry... I’m sorry...”
I tap the cork screw on the desk and watch her walk to me... she’s shy and girlish... she’s delicate and fragile... She is the kind of woman I want... and don’t want... She is easy to fall for and hard to let go... I want to protect her and make her mine... and I want to devour her until she has nothing left to give and leave her a broken and empty women... ruined for any other man...
She stands in front of me and sets the glasses down on the desk and hands me the bottle... I take it with my left hand... cork screw between my fingers... I reach out with my right hand and stroke the outside of her left leg... soft... firm... I reach around to the back of her knee... delicate and fleshy - like an oyster... I move my hand back around to the front of her thigh... I squeeze... I release and begin to move by hand to her buttock... but stop and raise my fingers to feel the bottom of my shirt which she is wearing... like so many before her... it’s always the thin ones... the young ones... the delicate fragile ones - that end up in my shirts... I rub the material between my fingers... I close my eyes and study the weave and the threading like a blind tailor... I can feel the dip and the rise of the weave... the stretch and the flow of the threads... the bounce of the cotton and the fading grip of the starch... she runs her fingers through my hear and brings me out of my trance... I tilt my head up and open my eyes like I was waking up... she looks down at me... we are almost at eye level... she is petite... she raises her right leg up and brings her foot down on my left thigh... I close my eyes again and lower my head... her fingers are still trapped in my hair... I open my eyes and am facing my shirt... her breast rise and fall as she breathes... I think of Carmen... Carmen in my shirt... I shake the shadow of that ghost from my head... she asks... “what’s wrong?”
I smile and look at her... I shake my head smiling at her... she looks good in my shirt... she belongs in my shirt... she wears it as if she had been wearing it for years... I bend forward and plant a kiss on her knee...
I take the bottle and the cork screw and get to working on that... I remember my days as a waiter... every time I open a bottle of wine or pick up a dirty plate... I remember all those damn years as a waiter... I chuckle... and shake my head... those wasted years... were they - wasted years... ?
I pour the wine and hand her a glass... she takes it but lets her fingers linger over mine... she strokes the back of my hand with her index finger... and lifts her glass to her lips... I reach for my glass but my gaze is focused on the back of my hand... the phantom of her touch remains... the hairs on the back of my hand rise and I follow a cold chill up my arm and fades away when I grab the tumbler... I think I am in trouble...
I raise my glass to my lips and take a swallow... a bit smokey... and the after taste hovers on my tongue like a fog from the sea... raping the sands of Tierra Del Fuego...
She sits down on my lap and leans back into my chest as we bury ourselves into the chair
she takes my right arm and drapes it around her waist and we sat there in silence for a long while... drinking and listening to the sounds that old houses make...
She speaks... in a whisper
“did you know this was going to happen...”
“Yes...”
“When did you know?”
“As I was walking to you at the store... I knew...”
She laughs...
“How did you know?”
“It’s what I wanted...”
“Oh...” she takes a drink... “do you always get what you want?”
“Sooner or later... I always get what I want...”
She thinks for a moment before she speaks... she hesitates...
“Have you ever not gotten what you want?”
I take a drink...
“Many times... for a long time I never did get the things that I wanted... but for a long time I did not know what it was that I wanted... but now... I pretty much have the things that I want... and I do not have the things that I don’t want... I have had the things that I wanted and will soon have the things that I am still waiting to get...”
I take a drink... and she takes a drink... she hesitates again before she says anything...
She speaks - “You don’t have the things you don’t want...”
“Exactly... why would I want that?”
“You wouldn’t... and you have had the things that you wanted... and you will soon have the things that you are waiting to have...”
“Yes...”
“What is missing...”
“Nothing... there is nothing missing from my life...”
“Then why do you need... more things...”
“I don’t need anything... I said I wanted a few more things... but I do not need them... I want them... but do not need them... If I lost everything... it would not matter... everything I have can be replaced... If we burned this house down - I would not care...”
“So what is it that you still want?”
I take a long drink... “something - that I can’t buy...”
She takes a drink... “happiness?”
“You can buy happiness...”
“Love?”
“You can rent love by the hour... or for the evening...”
She laughs - “then what... What is it that Victor wants... that he has not gotten yet?”
She stretches to reach the bottle and pours us some more wine...
“Victor... tell me...” she hesitates... perhaps she did not want to hear my answer... “tell me...”
She reaches out to pick up an old note book on my desk... “can this be replaced...” she opens it to a page in the middle and waits for a moment before she begins to read out loud:
I looked and I saw you... sailing away with my heart...
I called out your name... but we drifted too far apart...
I must have misread... the tears that I shed...
As I crumbled and stumbled for you..
I drank and got high... lost my self in a lie...
My heart and my soul broke in two...
I looked and I saw... the storm clouds - rolling in
I called out your name... but the pain... was about to begin...
She stops reading...
And takes a long slow drink...
On my knees at the shore... I could not fight any more...
The devil come take me away...
She stops reading and closes the book..
And I whisper...
In a deep pit of hell... locked away in my cell...
Bleeding for you I shall stay...
- “That is an old draft...” I tell her... “wrote that... eighteen years ago... still can’t get it right...”
She speaks... in a whisper...
“Who is it for?”
“For whomever wants it... nobody... it is for nobody...”
She drinks down all of her wine...
“How many women have you been with...” she whispered...
“Many...”
“Why... why did you have to have many?”
“Because there are not too many good girls in this world... and I have been weeding out the bad ones... looking for that good one... that I can make my own...”
“Do you think I am a good girl?”
“I was hoping that you would be...”
I drink down what’s in my glass
“Victor... are you a bad man?”
“I have been...”
“But are you... have you hurt women...”
“I have...”
“Are you going to hurt me...”
I reach for the bottle... but she stops me...
She kept her hand on my arm for a long time before she released it and got up off my lap...
She walked toward the hall and stopped when she reached the entrance of the den... she turned to look at me... she stood in silence... a silhouette in front of the light... she un-buttons her shirt and pulls it down from her shoulders... she turns to the hall... and lets the shirt fall from her back...
She pauses for a moment before she walks away...
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