“Sounds reasonable enough,” Jake said with a shrug. He then whipped out his roll of twenties and laid two of them down. “Fire us up.”
The roll of bills and the purchase of the most expensive wine had the desired effect on Clarissa. She beamed at him while the bartender retreated to prepare their order. “Thanks, JD,” she said. “You must have a pretty good job.”
He gave a shrug. “I do all right,” he assured her. “But tell me about you. What do you do?”
“Me? Nothing much. I work as a billing clerk over at Plano Healthcare.”
“That sounds kind of interesting,” he said.
She chuckled. “It’s not. I work in a tiny cubicle on a floor filled with a hundred other cubicles. I spend all day talking on the phone to people who really don’t want to talk to me.” She shrugged. “It’s a living.”
“Is that what you want to do with your life?” he asked. “Be a billing clerk in a cubicle farm?”
“No, of course not,” she said. “I’m taking classes at Harbor College, just one or two at a time for now. I want to be a vet tech.”
“A vet tech?”
“You know? Like a nurse for veterinarians. It’s not the most high paying job in the world, but I love animals, you know?”
Jake nodded respectfully. “Pursue your dreams,” he advised with complete sincerity. “It is worthwhile in the end.”
The bartender brought their drinks over and then picked up the two twenties. “Keep the change, hon,” Jake told her.
“Really?” she asked surprised.
“Really,” he confirmed. “Just make sure we don’t have empty glasses for long.”
“Absolutely,” she said, giving him a warm smile.
“Wow,” Clarissa said. “You just tipped her like eighteen bucks.”
Jake shrugged as if it were nothing. “It’s only money,” he said casually. He picked up his drink and held it out to her for a toast. “To following our dreams.”
She smiled again. “To following our dreams,” she repeated.
They clinked their glasses together and drank. Her expression turned very happy when she tasted the wine. “Wow,” she said. “This is very good stuff. Smooth as silk.”
Jake nodded. “The ‘87 Inglenook is pretty good—a decent example of what the Napa Valley can produce. It doesn’t really compare to French chardonnay, however. I have a couple of bottles of the ‘86 Chateau St. Claire from the vineyards in Chablis, France in my collection. Now that stuff is something you should try sometime—a nice smooth finish with just a hint of oak and citrus on the exhalation. It goes beautifully with pork and chicken dishes, or just to catch a buzz on the old balcony at sunset.”
“Wow,” she said. “It sounds like you know your wines.”
Another shrug. “I know what I like,” he said, his eyes looking her up and down and sending a definite message.
She smiled warmly back at him. The message was received.
After two drinks, they headed back out onto the dance floor and showed off their moves once again. This time, Jake grew a little bolder with his touches, as did Clarissa. By the third song in she was brazenly rubbing herself against him and her hands were flirting with boundary of his ass. His hands, in turn, were dipping down onto her bare legs on occasion, and straying up to the side swells of her breasts. This was the point where he knew he would have to pull a major screw-up to not get laid.
A slow dance came on—Open Arms, by Journey. This time he did not ask her to leave the dance floor with him. Instead, he opened his arms and she stepped into them. They swayed softly to the music, her lush body pressed against his, her head resting on his shoulder. He blew softly in her ear and she turned her face to his, the wanting look in her eyes. He put his lips to hers and they kissed, just long enough for the tip of her tongue to dart out and touch his.
“That was nice,” she breathed.
“Yes,” he agreed, pulling her a little closer, enjoying the feel of those soft boobs pressing into him. In his pants, Little Jake was starting to get very interested in the goings on.
Clarissa felt this as well. She did not shy away from it. Instead, she pushed herself more firmly against him. “I’m starting to think you like me,” she giggled.
“I do,” he said, his fingertips caressing her jawline, just below her ear. “Listen, do you maybe want to take a little ride with me?”
“A ride?” she said, an air of caution edging into her voice.
“I have my limousine out front,” he said.
“That’s your limousine?” she asked, having obviously seen it on her way in.
“It is,” he said. “We could take a little drive along the ocean maybe, have a few more drinks, get to know each other a little better, see what develops?”
She pushed back from him and looked into his eyes. “Tell me you’re not a serial killer trying to lure me away from here,” she demanded.
He chuckled. “I’m not a serial killer trying to lure you away from here,” he promised. “My intentions are honorable.” He looked her up and down, unabashedly. “Well ... mostly honorable.”
She continued to look into his eyes for a moment and then she smiled. “Let’s go,” she said.
They went.
Zeke saw them coming and rushed out to open the rear door for them. “Welcome back, Mr. King,” he greeted. “Where would you like to go?”
“How about a little drive down the PCH near Sunset Beach?” he suggested. True, the Hollywood Hills were a little more scenic at night, but experience had taught him that the winding, twisting road would often cause motion sickness in his prospect. Having one’s date start vomiting on the drive was a sure-fire way to bring an abrupt, and sometimes messy end to an otherwise pleasant evening.
“Very good, sir,” Zeke said.
They stepped into the back and settled in, Jake making sure the partition between the passenger and driver’s compartment was closed, Clarissa goggling at the bar and the television and the panel of knobs and switches that controlled everything.
Jake mixed himself another rum and coke and then poured Clarissa a glass of chilled 1991 Mondavi Sauvignon Blanc from the well-stocked wine refrigerator. She took it from him, toasted with him “to beauty”, and then looked out at the traffic passing around them.
“This is just so cool,” she said.
“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” Jake said, sliding a little closer to her.
She looked at him again. “What is it that you said you did for a living?” she asked.
“Nothing much,” he said. “I’m a partner in a business here in the LA area. We do well for ourselves.”
“What kind of business?” she asked.
“Nothing fascinating,” he said. “We’re kind of a support arm for the music industry.”
“The music industry?” she asked, her interest piqued. “Do you know any famous people?”
He shook his head. “No, not really,” he told her. “Like I said, we’re not part of the interesting branch of the music industry. What we do is really quite boring, actually, but it pays the bills.”
She looked around at the inside of the limo again. “And some,” she said.
Jake smiled and then flipped on the radio, which, per standard operating protocol that Zeke knew well, was now tuned to 93.7 FM, the easy listening station. Bread was on, playing I’d Like to Make it with You. Perfect.
He put his arm around Clarissa and she snuggled into him.
“This is like a dream,” she whispered.
“A dream come true,” he replied, and then put his lips to hers.
She was a good kisser. She tasted of white wine and her tongue slid expertly against his while her arms went around his neck. He let his hand slide down along the flank of her body, just barely touching her breast, and then moving across her hip and onto the bare silkiness of her thigh. He caressed her here, relishing the feel of female flesh against his fingertips.