Author: Farewell My Sullen Concubine PM
...They're all the same, they're only in it for something exotic...then they'll go back to their blonde girlfriends.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Romance - Chapters: 3 - Words: 2,780 - Reviews: 15 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 13 - Updated: 07-25-07 - Published: 05-14-07 - id: 2361736
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
His Dark Mistress
Three: Wear something nice
The phone was ringing. Alaine groaned quietly and tried to go back to sleep-then it dawned on her: the phone was ringing. She jumped up despite herself and ran to the phone.
"Hello? Oh, its for you." Erin handed her the phone and stomped back into her room. "Next time tell them not to call so early."
Alaine glanced at the clock, it was 6.53...why was he calling so early? Oh well. The point was, he called.
"Hello? Alaine speaking." She said using her husky seduction voice.
"Alaine? Are you ill?"
"No. I'm fine." she said through gritted teeth.
"Well, that's a relief, you wouldn't want to cancel your date tonight."
Alaine blinked. For a second there, she thought Gabrielle said "Your date tonight".
"Last night, Brock was telling me about one of his friends, Alexandr Smith, needing a date and we thought of you!"
"Typical. Why must you two constantly plot against me?"
"Don't be foolish. Anyway, I said you'd meet him at Balzac's at ten."
"You told him I'd meet him? I don't know one thing about the man."
"He's 37, likes dancing, his father's pharmaceutical company sponsors the jazz festival, his mother is from Nigeria and he's an American. Now you know five things."
"...Uh. 37? That's like...your age. I'm kinda NOT into the whole 'May-December' thing."
"...I don't know where his father is from though. I suspect somewhere in the West Indies."
"Are you even listening to me? I'm telling you this won't work!"
Gabrielle laughed gaily. "It will work, you just have to try."
"And if I don't go?"
"Of course you're going."
Alaine groaned. "And why are you so convinced of that?"
"You have no other plans. I know you Alaine."
Alaine blushed as she thought of why she'd rushed to the phone. "I don't even know what this guy looks like."
"He'll be wearing a navy shirt and will likely be holding a drink."
"And for heaven's sake, wear something nice! A dress perhaps, so long as its not one of those terrible rock band shirts. No one needs to see a walking advertisement for the Beatles, the Ramones, Bob Dylan or whatever."
"How do you mean something nice, my clothes are nice-"
"I expect you to be there on time." And she hung up.
"I expect you to be there on time." There was steel behind this. Alaine had no other choice but to go.
Alaine dropped the phone in disgust and returned to bed.
If nothing else, Lucas Sheridan was a creature of habit. The day after trying out for a gig, he would fill his refrigerator, cut off all communication with the outside world, accepting no calls but the one he was waiting for. And when he finally got the call-which he did, he went to Balzac's and had a drink with his mates.
Lucas grabbed his sweater and reached in to get his keys when he found a crumpled piece of paper. It had the number of that girl. He'd have to call her.
'But not tonight' he tossed the number next to the phone and left.
Balzac's was crowded as usual as Alaine arrived. How exactly was she supposed to find some guy she'd never seen before? She scanned the place for anyone wearing a navy shirt, there were three of them. One of which was black and carried himself in the same manner Brock did. Of course.
Alaine drew in her breath and walked over to him. "Alexandr?"
He turned to face her giving her a once over. Alaine didn't flinch, she was dressed nicely: a purple mini-kilt (cotton, not wool) and a black Sex Pistols t shirt.
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, And you're Eileen?"
Alaine had a habit of ranking how a date went on a scale starting from zero, if she got a positive by the end of the night, she'd consider seeing them again. Right now, Alexandr was at -1.
"No, its Alaine, with an 'A'"
"Right." he sipped at his drink.
"So, what do you do?"
"I own a company."
"You probably have used Smith's cough and cold syrup."
"Never heard of it."
Alexandr coughed slightly. "I...see."
There was an awkward silence. "Would you like another drink? I'm going to get myself one..." Alaine mumbled.
"That would be great." Though they were sitting at the bar, the bartender was arguing animatedly with three other guys on the other end.
Alexandr frowned. "Does he not notice that we are in need of service?"
"Its a simple as calling out or walking over to the side he's at."
"You can do that, a bartender is supposed to wait on me, not the other way round."
Alaine shook her head. Were Americans normally this fussy? -2.
"Rather than waiting forever for bad service, how 'bout I take you to this great restaurant, they have the best veal."
-5. "I'm vegan, so I think I'd rather wait on bad service-and if you knew how veal was prepared, you wouldn't be so quick to eat is."
"Vegan? You're kidding, right?" he sneered.
-25,000. "I'm going to get that drink now."
Alaine was seething, only her sister could dig up such a person. As far as she was concerned, the date was over with a grand total of -25,008.