The bottle of wine Jack had just bought for dinner was hanging almost unnoticed from his hand. He stood outside the wine store and raked a hand through his curly dark hair watching the retreating back of a girl who was wearing a thigh-length black coat with short stiletto boots. Long legs disappeared beneath the hem of a very short skirt. The dark blonde ponytail flickered and he could just make out her profile as she turned the corner without looking back at him.
It had been a strange, random moment out of his day. When he entered the wine store there had been no one else inside, which was unusual for a Friday night in such a busy area of the city. He had been studying the racks of wine, trying to find a reasonably priced red he could take to dinner. When he looked up she, the black- jacket-wearer, was staring at him over the top of the wine racks. With smooth olive skin, full pink lips, and doe-brown eyes, she had caught his eye for more time than was comfortable. He looked away embarrassed, but when he felt her continued stare he was forced to look back at her. There was a smile in her eyes and a small dimple on one cheek. He smiled back.
"Hi," she said, and he detected an accent. "I need you to do me a favor." He stared at her askance wondering what she wanted as she skirted the wine racks towards him. Casting a quick glance a little fearfully behind her she seemed to be making sure no one was watching them. When she rounded the rack he noticed her body and her long slim legs for the first time and he hoped he could imagine what kind of favor she wanted. She pushed back a stray strand of blonde hair that had escaped from a rough ponytail and made conspiratorial eye contact again.
"I know this is a bit weird, but back home I can legally buy alcohol, and here, well I don't have an ID and I'm not 21 yet," she rushed as if he was going to stop her. "I totally understand if you don't want to, but it's just that I'm supposed to go to a dinner party and I want to bring wine. Would you mind?" While she was hurriedly explaining her predicament she had brandished a ten-dollar bill at him.
"Why do you think I'm old enough to buy wine?" He asked mock indignantly.
She smiled, "You are in a wine store for one and I'd say you were 25."
"Close. 27." He smiled again and knew that he would do it after he watched her squirm a bit. Maybe he could draw this out into something more interesting. "Do you often accost strangers and ask them to do illegal things for you?" he asked her jokingly.
"Yes. All the time." She replied deadpan.
He laughed, delighted. "Well, at least you have to tell me your name."
"I suppose that's fair enough. If I tell you my name, will you buy me the wine?"
"A name for a potentially fine-inducing act? Doesn't seem to have quite the equivalence does it?" He was angling for her number and she knew it. When she smiled he knew she liked him and he felt an excited rush of anticipation.
"You," she pointed a long finger at him, "are quite the haggler aren't you?"
He held up one finely boned hand, "born and raised," he said.
"Myra." She gave her hand and he took it, happy to have an excuse to touch her. Her fingers were long and thin, her hand was warm and fit in his nicely. "We shall see about the rest, after the purchase," she said.
He grabbed two bottles of Bordeaux he wanted and wandered over to pay. The cashier looked blithely unaware of the illicit deal his customers had struck as he bagged the wine bottles separately. Myra brazenly grabbed one of the bottles along with a sharpie that was lying on the counter. Scribbling on the brown paper bag, she then handed it to him and grabbed the other one. They both turned to leave but she glanced at him, another small, mischievous smile on her face.
"You - are a darling!" She touched his arm and he felt a shock of electricity. There was a charged silence between them. She hesitated a moment at the door and seemed suddenly unsure of herself. Her age had caught up with her and she looked young and vulnerable. He made eye contact with her but she looked away and mumbled, "Thanks," and headed out the door. Jack glanced down at the scrawled writing on the brown paper bag. It was her name and a street address nearby with the time 10p.m. circled.
* * *
When Jack arrived for dinner at the small gray house tucked away behind a swarm of tropical plants on a walkway a block from the beach, he had already figured out a way to make an early exit. Knocking on the heavy wooden door, he rehearsed his plans: a headache, a gig, or an early morning work call? His good friend Doug answered the door and let him into the living area of the house.
"Hey man, how are you?" His friend asked giving Jack a quick friendly hug. Jack sniffed appreciatively at the aromas from the kitchen.
"Good. How's Terri? Cooking something spectacular from the smell of it?" He took the bottle of red wine out of the paper bag and handed it to Doug. He carefully folded the bag and slipped it unnoticed into his jacket pocket.
"Not only spectacular smells," he said to Jack as he turned to a small bar area to open the wine. A tall, red haired woman with pale skin and freckles entered the room from the kitchen wearing an apron, she smiled when she saw Jack and gave him a hug.
"Good to see you Terri," Jack smiled back at his friend's wife. He'd known Doug and Terri since high school. They were the only couple that had lasted the distance.
Just then a girl's voice drifted out from the kitchen. "Shall I turn the burner down on the sauce, Terri?" It was a familiar accent and Jack felt a strange sense of the familiar. He was about to shrug it off when the blonde girl from the wine store, with long thin legs and the short skirt, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Jack stared at her in shock. The expression on her face replicated his. A red glow suffused her face and her mouth fell open. After what seemed a minute of them staring at each other, she recovered suddenly.
"Hello." She smiled disjointedly at him.
Terri hadn't seemed to notice the awkward moment and said, "Thanks, Myra, I'll get the sauce. This is Jack, I was telling you about him the other day." She winked at Jack as she headed back into the kitchen and called out. "You should close your mouth Jack; the slack-jawed look doesn't suit you."
Jack closed his mouth feeling bewildered and wanting to ask the burning question, what are you doing here? But Myra came forward and caught his eye quickly, proffering her hand toward him. "Hi Jack, it's nice to meet you." He shook it awkwardly but noted the warning in her hazel brown eyes. It's too hard to explain, lets not go there, it said.
He couldn't think of anything to say to her, the questions he wanted to ask froze on his lips. Myra could sense his confusion and smiled a small smile and said, "I'll go help Terri in the kitchen."
Doug had poured him a glass of wine and handed it to him. Noticing Jack's bemused expression, he chuckled. "She's a new friend of Terri's, from a yoga class I think. Terri has plans for her. Nice skirt, huh?"
Jack shook his head amazed at the strange coincidence and smiled. "Right – great skirt."
Dinner was a mixture of familiarity and tension. Myra, sitting across the table from him, was a constant distraction. He kept glancing over at her amid the conversation, noticing the way she moved her hands as she talked and the smoothness of her cheeks and neck and how the low cut t-shirt hugged the shape of her small round breasts. He felt agitated and kept up a steady stream of anecdotes. Always animated, he was even more so tonight and he was delighted to find that Myra was holding her end of the conversation up, even laughing good-naturedly at his feeble attempts at flirting. He could feel the wine kicking in, making him even headier.
"Are you playing tonight?" Terri asked him suddenly. He'd forgotten about his plans for a quick escape and couldn't decide whether he needed the excuse of a gig or not.
He thought quickly. "No."
