Fiction logo

A successful night

Adventures and misadventures of a serial dater

By Natalia Perez WahlbergPublished 2 years ago 10 min read
1

After the big fiasco with my brother, —or rather, with the fake Chris Evans on account of my brother killing him— I decided to take a bit of a break from dating. Don’t get too excited, by break I mean two weeks. I had to get over the shock of what had happened.

I hadn’t heard from my brother since that last message, but I felt that I’d have to take a picture of the next guy I met up with and run it by him to avoid something like last time. I was even considering moving, which was not a big problem, I wasn’t that attached to my place, I could always buy a new place and sell this one. Would I have to disclose if someone got murdered in it? Or was that only done in movies? I’d have to find out.

I hadn’t told any of my friends about my latest conquest… I wasn’t about to divulge that my brother was some sort of spy that went around killing Chris Evans lookalikes. I was wondering if maybe the guy had had plastic surgery? ‘Oh, woman! Stop that train of thought. It ain’t gonna do you any good’. I stopped. That day, as far as I was concerned, was erased. Not the night previous, mind you, that was pretty good. I know, I know, I am being callous again.

Therefore, I was ready to get back on the saddle and start my flirting game. After all, who knew how long my looks would last? I had to take advantage now. I’m just joking, I’m planning on living the life I want until I can no longer move. Period. And I am not about to apologize for it. Unorthodox? Maybe.

I’m digressing (and probably boring you out of your mind). I was on the hunt, and as an experienced huntress, I had many ways to pick up men. I could go the easy way with a dating app, or just go out, in my best dress and look like a million dollars. Irresistible. I usually preferred the latter, as it was easier to assess if I wanted to take someone home after meeting them in person than through an app (though I’d resort to the apps if need be). In any case, I was in the mood to go out. The advantage of doing that is that, even if I don’t meet anyone I want to take home, I will have a good time with my friends. Win-win.

I decided to call a few of my close friends, and an hour later we were meeting up at one of our favorite joints for a few drinks. It was a great spring evening, not too cold, perfect for a tight dress with a jacket and my stiletto boots that went over my knees. I know what you are thinking, stilettos don’t sound too comfortable to make a whole night out of it, but hey, as one of the bosses I had once said: fashion before comfort (another one of the mottos I live by, except when I’m at home and just relaxing or working from my home-office).

Compliments flew whichever way, my way, their way. We all looked fabulous and we knew it. Ahhh! To be young but not too young to still be stupid about some things. Yes, life was good! I had completely forgotten about my latest “date”, buried deep in one of the forbidden drawers of my mind. Those that have a lock and key and are never to be opened under any circumstances. You know what I’m talking about. We all have them.

We were sitting, laughing, and sharing some gossip when, from the corner of my eye, I saw him looking my way. I withdrew my gaze immediately. I managed to peek long enough to get a good look at him, but not too long that he’d get cocky knowing that I was interested. So what? I like it when guys work for it. Why should I make it easy for them? Besides, this guy had what it takes. He had the swag, the confidence, and, definitely, the looks.

Think of Idris Elba in Luther: tall, handsome, and with an air of aloofness. I know, why do I describe all the men I meet as movie stars? I don’t know, dear reader, perhaps because that way you can get a better picture of what I’m talking about. Unlike the Chris Evans look-alike, though, this guy was not exactly an IE double. He had a beautiful smile, full lips, and deep, dark eyes that could turn you into a melting candle. He wore his head shaved and it suited him (nice shape). He was very interesting. There was just something about him that instantly attracted me to him. Another assassin? Or spy? Or agent? Or whatever? No! Stop it! You promised to stop those thoughts. Remember? That drawer is locked. Not every man is interested because of who your brother is. I didn’t even know who my brother really WAS until a couple of weeks ago. So, dear paranoia, go take a hike. This night is going to be good. I debated whether to go to the bar and order more drinks for me and my friends, to separate myself from the herd and allow the wolf to go for the hunt, or if I would just wait out the night and see if he stuck around. I decided on the former.

As I approached the bar I noticed his eyes following me across the room. It amazes me how our intuitive selves can feel someone’s eyes on us and know we are being watched. I could feel it as if I was looking at him.

While I was a the bar, he approached and placed himself next to me.

“I noticed you noticed me watching you.” He said in the suavest voice I have ever heard. It was deep, sexy, and very manly.

“Did you, now? Are you sure of that?” I played coy, looking for the barman and not making eye contact.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a discerning smile dancing on his lips. He knew I was playing. I liked that. I knew we could have a healthy and fun banter.

“Say, can I buy you a drink and steal you away from your friends for a little while?” At that point, I turned around to face him.

“Say, how do you know I’m not with one of those friends?” I smiled playfully.

“Fair enough,” he looked over in their direction. They were all now looking at us with curiosity and expectancy. What a bunch of busybodies! “But, from their expressions, I’d venture to say that’s not the case… However, I am man enough to admit that, perhaps, you do have someone and they are not currently present.”

“Fair point,” I admitted. I hadn’t thought of that myself. “Well, there are two ways to find out if that’s the case,” I said provocatively as I inched slightly closer to him. Close enough that I could smell his cologne.

“I’m intrigued. I can think of more than two ways to find out, but, please, enlighten me, miss,” the smile never left his face. As I was about to reply, I heard the barman call out.

“What will it be?” I looked around. For a moment I had forgotten that I had approached the bar as a decoy and that I was even there.

“Oh… One martini, dry, two cosmos, an amaretto sour, two Guinness from the tap, and two glasses of water, please.” I put two fifties and a teen on the counter and watched as he skillfully, and with a speed that reminded me of Tom Cruise in Cocktail, prepared our drinks. When he was done he grabbed the cash and was about to put the change on the bar when I told him to keep it. He looked at me surprised, smiled, thanked me, and moved with speed and precision to the next customer.

“That was generous of you,” my companion observed.

“I used to work behind a bar during my University years. It’s a tough job. I always tip high when I go for drinks or eat out. A habit, I guess.”

“So which one is yours?” he asked looking at the drinks on the counter.

“Neither, you will be buying mine,” I smiled and winked at him. I signaled to my friends so that someone would come and help me with the drinks.

“Hey,” said my friend Rita in a too-chipper tone.

“Hey, yeah, help me with this… Oh, sorry, Rita this is… uhmmm… I didn’t catch your name,” I said to him.

“Right. The name’s Jay. It’s a pleasure making your acquaintance,” he added politely.

“The pleasure is all mine,” said my friend with a too-happy grin.

“Let’s go take these to the table,” I said to her, “give me a minute, I’ll be back in a few,” I added addressing Jay.

"Just before you go, whose name should be on that drink I'm ordering? And, more importantly, what should I get you?" He winked, expectantly.

“I’ll have a Blue Moon, a bottle, with a glass, and a slice of orange. And the name is Melinda, Mel to my friends.” I added, hurrying away.

I left the drinks with my friends and left before they started asking any questions. They knew me well enough to understand that I might not come back to them. This was a matter that had gotten us into fights at times, but at some point, they had learned to accept that about me. After all, these were my single friends, and there were no set rules for our nights out, we had decided. The exception was if we were out to cheer one of our friends because they needed our support. Other than that, anything was fair game.

By the time I got back to my new friend, my drink was waiting for me. He was sipping from his glass.

He smiled. I smiled back.

The next morning we sat having coffee in his kitchen. I hadn’t wanted to take him back to my place. I was a bit paranoid. Maybe my brother would suspect this guy too. I even kept glancing at the door expecting violent knocks to resound in the apartment. But none came.

“We should do this again,” he said with a coy smile playing on his lips.

“The coffee ain’t that good, so I don’t know about that,” I replied playfully, evading what he was really referring to. I loved playing games.

“That’s true… What if I get better coffee? Will you consider it then?” He winked at me.

“Then… maybe… though I don’t usually do this,” I added.

“Of course, you are a lady, right?” He laughed.

“Oh, I meant the coffee, sir. There are no ladies here.” I replied sliding my hand down his chest, getting up and kissing his neck. Not long after, we were back in his bedroom. A much better place to be than having small-talk in his kitchen. Did I mention I have intimacy issues?

Shortly thereafter, I was on my way home. It had been a successful night… and morning. I had good sex, nobody got killed, and I didn’t hear from my psycho brother.

I decided to keep Jay’s number (no, don’t get too excited, not to date, didn’t I tell you before that my stories are not a Julia Roberts rom-com?).

_______________________________

Thank you for reading! I truly appreciate you spending a few minutes of your day reading my stories and entries. If you like what you read and want to support my writing habit, feel free to leave a tip. Thank you!

Series
1

About the Creator

Natalia Perez Wahlberg

Illustrator, entrepreneur and writer since I can remember.

Love a good book and can talk endlessly about books and literature.

Creator, artist, motion graphics.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.