Author's Note: Thanks for reading! A quick little story for your reading pleasure - if you prefer something longer, try one of my other stories. When finished, please take a few seconds and rate this story - one click is all it takes. And, if you have a minute, leave me feedback and tell me what you liked or didn't like about it. Enjoy!
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Looking down the concrete stairs at the bar entrance, she asked herself yet again if she wanted to go through with this - the answer was the same as always. She took a deep breath, forced her foot forward and started down the steps to the battered door which advertised that cheap domestic beers were proudly served on the premises. Pushing the door open she found a dimly lit bar smelling of cigarette smoke and stale beer. Five guys at a table in the corner openly flouted the new city-wide smoking ban, the bartender half-heartedly asking them to stop. Hard hats hung on the wall behind them. Five pairs of eyes fell on her, roaming her body from head to toe, silently undressing her.
She felt conspicuous in her power suit so far from the safe confines of the financial district downtown, a thirty four year old mother of two standing alone in this blue-collar bar. She set her jaw and strode confidently to the bar to have a seat. An admiring whistle from the corner caused her to turn her head partway but she caught herself, not wanting to give them any satisfaction.
"Did you see those legs?"
"And that ass?" another chimed in.
"What're you talking about?" said a third. "All I saw was her huge rack."
All five laughed heartily. They talked about her as if she wasn't a person, merely an object or a piece of meat they hungered for. And they didn't care if she heard them. In fact, they wanted her to hear their raunchy comments.
Finally, one said, "Hey, baby! What say you and me go out to my truck and I'll let you suck-"
"Knock it off!" the bartender yelled, bringing them a heavy glass ashtray he'd retrieved from behind the bar. He set it down with an angry
clunk.
"Mind yer fucking manners!" he scolded in a gruff voice, earning more laughs from the table.
The bartender walked behind the bar and set a drink napkin in front of her. "What'll it be, miss?"
"A glass of chardonnay."
He poured and set it in front of her. In a low voice he said, "First one's on the house. Sorry about that." He jerked his head toward the corner table. According to his shirt pocket his name was Tony.
"Thanks, Tony, it's okay. I'm a big girl, I can handle those guys."
Tony shook his head in quiet disagreement and moved down the bar, turning his attention to the TV hanging in the corner. In the mirror above the bar she watched the corner table. The men were now taking turns pantomiming various sex acts they'd like to do to her, each one more outrageous than the previous. Outwardly she ignored them, but inside she was flattered and aroused by all the attention, attention she rarely got these days. It'd been a long time since she was able to elicit such a response from a group of strangers. Moist heat pooled between her legs.
The only other people sitting at the bar were a man trying to enjoy his beer and the woman who was hitting on him. His eyes looked the woman up and down, taking in her heavy makeup, her nicotine-stained teeth, her slightly shabby clothing and he determined she'd been around the block a few too many times. He shook his head and turned his attention back to peeling his beer label. The barfly vacated her stool and tried her luck with the corner table - they quickly drove her away under a barrage of verbal abuse.
She sipped her wine and covertly studied the man five stools down from her with sidelong glances. He was some common laborer, probably a construction worker, with his five o'clock shadow, faded flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing tan, muscular forearms, and worn blue jeans tucked into his work boots. His blond hair was cut short, his face rugged and good-looking, and all he needed was a hard hat and metal lunch box to complete the picture. He noticed her, too, looking her over carefully as she watched him in the mirror. His eyes spent a long time on her legs and a good amount of time on her chest.
He motioned to the bartender for another beer and talked to him in a quiet voice as the bottle was set down. Moments later, Tony appeared in front of her refilling her glass. She looked up questioning and Tony jerked his head towards the man down the bar. She turned and gave her benefactor a slight smile of thanks and he tipped his beer in her direction.
He picked up his bottle and moved down to her, sitting with one empty stool between them, and as he sat down, their eyes met. He nodded and she nodded back. His eyes, she saw, were a mix of grey and blue, his gaze intense and penetrating but also kind. The table in the corner had grown quiet, watching.
He studied her out of the corner of his eye, taking in every detail discretely and his eyes fell on her left ring finger - an indentation but no ring. He casually put his hands in his lap, and when they reappeared she saw his own wedding band was gone. He was sizing her up, trying to figure her out. Maybe her husband was screwing the secretary and she was out to get even. She smiled into her glass as she sipped her wine. Whatever story works for him was fine with her. He turned to her.
"You know," he started, his voice a deep soothing rumble, "there are only three reasons why you would be in a bar like this." He looked at the room around them.
