Stockholm, Sweden, Saturday evening
It is Saturday... how the hell did I end up alone in a hotel bar? My date cancelled at the last minute, that dick. All dressed up and no fun. I sipped on a martini, standing by the bar. Felt weird, standing there all alone... I considered just calling it a night, go home and curse all men. But hey, I am not leaving a drink I paid for, so I might as well hang around a while...
I bought a new dress and everything for this date...even skipped my thong, prepared for fun tonight... suddenly I felt under-dressed. The bartender glanced at me, I probably looked lost. I was not used to standing in a bar alone... but hey, live and learn I thought to myself, sipping my drink
And then I realised that I wasn't technically alone - a short distance to my left stood a man, seemingly oblivious to my presence and concentrating on a book, a dark red drink of some kind sitting close by. He was in his late 40s or early 50s, with salt-and-pepper hair, slightly curly. He wasn't exactly dressed up, but wore a well-cut dark grey suit, crisp white shirt and a somewhat flamboyant silk tie that seemed to be his attempt to assert his individuality in a grey business world. His only concession to the fact that he was no longer in a client meeting was the fact that his top shirt button was undone, and his tie just slightly loosened. I studied him, mentally contrasting our sartorial choices, and wondering what on earth his red drink might be...
I returned to my martini, studying myself in the mirror behind the ranks of bottles at the bar. Shit - I'm hot, I thought. And that was not all that I was thinking, as I felt the familiar tingle begin between my smooth and barely-covered lips...
I had finished my drink by now, and the bartender asked if i wanted another. I looked to my side and pointed 'I think I will have what he is having, looks tasty.' The man showed no sign of hearing me, reading his book, looking really focused on his reading.
'Sorry to bother you...' I almost whispered. 'But could you tell me what that drink is?'
I looked up from my book. 'Oh, this? Just an Americano, with a twist. You are welcome to taste it, if you like.'
'Thank you,' I responded, with a hint of a smile. I thought I saw the same pass across his lips. I reached over and picked up the glass - cold, wet with condensation from the ice and, on closer inspection, sporting the subtlest of twists of bitter orange peel. His eyes followed the glass as I raised it to my lips... and then could feel them settle on those lips as I took the tiniest of sips. I looked playfully at him as I did so, the bittersweet liquid creating an explosion of flavour in my mouth. His eyes lifted and met mine.
'So... what do you think? I'm told it's an acquired taste...' I said, again allowing just a hint of a smile to play on my lips.
'It tasted great, never tried it before.' I smiled as the bartender served me my drink. 'Good thing it tasted good, otherwise my order would have been stupid. Nice to try new things now and then. Again, sorry to pull you away from your book.'
'Hey - no worries, it's not that great anyway. It's always good to have the chance to talk to someone new when I'm travelling - can get so bloody tedious in the evenings with nothing to do but sip cocktails and read novels!' The book is good, yes, but suddenly this girl is talking to me and it doesn't seem quite so interesting any more. I mean... I know I'm the only guy in the bar and maybe she feels embarrassed to be sitting there in silence on her own... but she really is stunning. And that dress! Makes this godforsaken place rather more appealing, I must say!
'So you like Americanos, do you? That says quite a lot about a woman, in my experience...'
'You think so? Guess not everyone likes the taste, but I totally got a new favorite drink. So cheers!' I raise my glass a little, looking at him. I thought this would be a terrible night, funny how things change so fast...
'Yes, it's bittersweet, subtle and sensuous with a hint of adventure, even if that does sound like a bad bit of marketing...' I said, proffering my glass towards hers to chink. 'To a new adventure, here of all places! I'm Stephen, by the way.'
'
Hi Stephen..I am LinnΓ©a, friends call me Nea. Nice to meet you.' I looked in his eyes.
'
Nice to meet you, Nea, if I may call you that.' She was looking straight into my eyes and I looked back... for a moment longer just politeness would allow. Deep brown eyes, somehow a contrast to her golden hair. Intense eyes, with a look that seemed to be saying... what, exactly?
He looked back at me, I almost felt embarrassed. Did he pick up on my thoughts...? No, get a grip... I looked back down at my drink, almost blushing.
Did she just blush? Surely not... I must be imagining it.
'So, Nea, other than sharing Americanos with strange men, what do you do for fun?' I asked - hey, what have I got to lose?