"Can you believe the luck?" The man ahead of me chuckled as he gingerly stepped over the gravel piles and puddles of slick mud outside of the tiny airport. It had been raining off and on for several days in this northern state. Part of me wanted to get back on the puddle jumper and back to civilization. The other half of was consumed with intrigue and curiosity for a woman who called herself "Lovely Bombshell" on the internet.
She was fun. Light hearted and proper at some times, but fascinatingly dirty and explicit at others. "Where did you say you were headed again son?", the same man ahead of me quipped as he scraped his work boots on a curb stone. "Oh I don't know really..." looking up from my cell phone and the single bar of signal I had. "I'm meeting someone out here, and then I'm off to Montreal to see some of my cousins."
My escort pointed to a small rectangular building with log cabin features and a single "Open" sign in a foggy window. "Well, that's the watering hole. May as well have a beer and some grub before you go exploring the wilderness right?" He was very impressed with his own sense of humor. I smiled and shook his hand, heading across the street to this dive in the middle of the woods.
A couple of brass bells jingled as I pushed the front door open. The smell of cigarette smoke, stale beer and old carpet and felt from the pool tables reached me all at once. The bartender looked up at me from her cigarette and crossword puzzle. Three other men were all seated at the bar, nursing their mugs of beer. "What can I get...." She stopped mid sentence as she looked me over.
A sly grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Have a seat honey. Someone's been expecting you." She winked and sprang up from her barstool. I glanced at the other men sitting at the bar, rustic worker types in their Wolverine work boots and flannel shirts. One of them still had engine grease on his hands and spots of it on his T Shirt. "You're the guy we've been hearing about huh?"
I grabbed a cigarette from my breast pocket and fetched my lighter from my jeans. After my first puff in what seemed like days, I addressed him. "I don't know man, just stopping by." The other patrons around me chuckled and snorted. "Oh, we know. She was in here last night...bragging about how she was having a man imported from Canada. Says you might be grade A beef steak!" I coughed and spit my smoke at this last comment.
"Well, does everyone in this town already know what I had for lunch today? Word seems to get around awfully fast."
The bartender had returned with a pint of dark beer and what looked like a shot of chilled tequila. I grinned at her and dropped a twenty on the bar top. Downing the shot first, and chasing it with beer, I turned around and faced the man who looked like a mechanic. "I guess we'll find out right? And if everyone here is thick as thieves, you'll know if I was any good or not before I leave town...tomorrow morning." I lifted my glass in a toast at this last stroke of wit.
I spent the next hour, talking with the guys about the local economy, how it was different from where I had been living in Texas and various parts of the United States. My male bonding moment was interrupted suddenly, by a hand on my shoulder.
I glanced down and noticed a set of perfectly manicured, purple fingernails near the collar of my shirt.
"Ok boys! You've had your fun. Now I get to take this lonely tourist around and show him the sights." Her voice sounded like honey, poured over the razor's edge of a dagger. She spun me around in my bar stool so I could see her, and she smothered me with a hug, nearly knocking the glass of beer from my hand. I blushed and met her sparkling blue eyes. "I assume that you're Ms. Bombshell?"
Her eyes locked mine in a predatory stare for a moment, before they wandered down my neckline and over my shoulders. "Yes. But you can call me Amy now." I set my beer down with a thud. "Your friends tell me that you already have big plans...care to share them with me?"
