O'Connell Bridge - Pt. 28

“Sorry to miss tea today,” Clarice seemed bothered when LC greeted her for cocktails. She was dressed in a long, off-white gown with a low cut front and dangling earrings; her heels again made her nearly as tall as LC. “Sometimes the work I do interferes with life.”

LC walked her to the small cocktail table and helped her sit. He picked up off the bar—a flute of champagne and a seltzer water. “Oh, I do regret your consternation.” He unbuttoned a button his tux when he sat.

She reached across the table for his hands which were on his lap. He noticed and reached out and touched her fingers. “It’s not your fault for one thing and the other is while it is kind to say I’m sorry, it’s rather superficies. Simply say, 'Oh' with a question tone.”

“Oh?” LC mimicked her suggestion.

“Yes, my dear. While you and your man go gallivanting around Edinburgh I will be winging my way to Budapest to deal with a situation not involving O’Neil corporate business. So, Friday is cooked. I’m afraid anything we do will have to be Saturday and that will be limited to the dinner.” She thought a second. “What time do you get back from Edinburgh on Friday?”

“I’m not sure.”

Clarice seemed to be figuring in her mind. “Probably last flight—8 PM.”

“I’m doing courier duty for a document to Frankfort on my way back, I won’t get in until late. I have an idea. Be in the bar until it closes. Get here by 11 PM. I’ll join you for a nightcap if I can get here. There may be some details we have to talk about. Saturday during the morning likely I’ll have to run back to Germany to pick up some papers so don’t plan on seeing me until I pick you up Saturday evening.”

“I shall enjoy the encounter should it happen Friday night, and will await your beautiful presence on Saturday.”

“You’re teasing aren’t you? Stop it. Be your own charming self. And, I do appreciate you only watching my face.”

“Well Clarice my tongue has been tied in knots but I have tried to keep my attention on your beautiful bearing.”

Clarice ran her hand along his chin. “Your conversation is getting better.”

“Thank you.”

She patted his hand. “We are having dinner tonight, are we not?”

“Indeed, here in the hotel.”

“Yes, and tomorrow is your final examination. We will dine at Delahunt. You will wear the tux again for that dinner, as if we are going to the theatre. So, spill nothing on it, although Seamus will have it pressed for you tonight. For your meeting with Mrs. O’Neil you will wear the dark suit, a conservative tie—no red. It isn’t a power dinner; only wear red if you plan aggressive moves.” She smiled and whispered, “Wish you had a red bow tie for tonight.”

LC sipped his seltzer water, “I beg your pardon.” Although he had heard clearly what she said.

“Oh, just vocalizing a thought.”

They chatted aimlessly until the Maitre D’ called them. LC performed the perfect chair unseating, stepped aside and allowed Clarice to exit the seating area, and then offered his arm. The two approached the hostess stand and were given the same table LC had practiced table settings.

Again, he seated Clarice. Unbuttoned his coat and sat himself.

“Before we get started. “A gentleman usually orders for his date unless the order is overly complicated. Modern women often prefer to order for themselves. But in this case, let's see how well you do. I want the Ceasar Salad, Irish Chicken, and creamed potatoes. And, of course, coffee.”

The waiter approached. “We will have only coffee additional,” LC said. But, we’re ready to order.”

“Yes, sir.”

“My date will have a Caesar salad, Irish Chicken, and creamed potatoes. I will have the romp steak, medium well, with creamed potatoes and the house salad with a light vinegar dressing.”

“Very good, sir.” The waiter whisked away.

“You did very well,” Clarice smiled brightly.

“Actually, I usually order for my dates, it’s something my dad did when I was growing up, so I just adopted it.”

“Between fist fights at family reunions?” she teased.

LC held up his club soda glass. “Exactly.” He looked at the silverware. “Okay three forks. What’s the third fork for?”

“Desert.” Clarice was watching LC intently. “Although we could forego desert here and have something elsewhere.”

“Whatever is your desire, my dear.”

“Liam, wrong statement. What if I said take me to Stockholm tonight.”

“Oh, I think I understand.”

“A gentleman uses guarded speech around his date. You might say simply, yes, we could go elsewhere and make a suggestion. Only make a broad statement like that if you mean it. Besides I might be tempted to jump over the table and have my way with you right here.”

LC was alarmed. “Clarice?”

“Liam, you are a bit of a naive prude. Of course I was being silly, but if you listened you might have picked up a suggestion of things to come this evening.”

“Oh.”

The waiter appeared with a coffee waitress close behind. “Your steak will be coming shortly. Can I get you anything else from the bar?”

Clarice nodded toward her champagne.

“Another flute of champagne, and I think that will be all.”

The waiter turned and walked away, allowing the coffee waitress to pour two cups of coffee.

“I forgot to mention Liam, I was happy to see you ordered the steak. The pasta here is truly divine, but if you are on an important date, you do not want to risk the red sauce. It is almost a dietary rule. If you are having red sauce, the likelihood is some of it will end up on your clothes.”

They both refused deserts. “We need to go out for a nightcap,” Clarice indicated that LC should sign the check and prepare to leave.

“A fine idea, my love,” LC grinned.

“Then let’s go. I have a perfect little place I think you’ll enjoy.”

LC performed all of the exit routine perfectly and escorted Clarice to the street. Mysteriously, George was waiting. When they entered the car Clarice simply said, “Lillies.”

It seemed to LC that they only drove a few blocks before it was time to exit the car. The nightclub was plush. When they walked in the door, a host immediately recognized Clarice.

“Ms. Johnson, welcome.”

“Thank you, Morris. We’ll be in the Long bar tonight for a short while.”

LC noticed the multitude of couches and screened off areas. Beautiful artwork covered the walls with the majority seeming to be nudes.

Clarice guided LC through the first floor to the Long bar area and found a low table. “Obviously, you cannot pull out a couch, however since I am wearing a long dress, you will extend your hand so that I might sit.”

LC followed orders then seated himself in a cushioned chair. “This is very unique. The nightclub I mean.”

Without ordering, two drinks appeared on the table between Clarice and LC.

“Gin,” she said. “There are a couple of gin bars here and I always have the same drink. Usually the person with me duplicates my drink so I automatically get my selection and preferred drink, they named after me; it’s called a CJ.”

“Very nice.”

“We use this bar to entertain special guests. Often we bring guests here for televised sporting events. It has enough sophistication that our guests are able to enjoy themselves without the pressures of a sports bar or the corporate office.”

“Cool.” He tasted the gin drink. “Kinda sweet.”

Clarice smiled. “My special gin drink. Just like me.”

LC thought to himself, sweet maybe like arsenic. “Can I ask,” LC started.

Clarice smiled at him. “Tonight you can ask me anything and I promise not to scratch your eyes out.”

LC sat back in the cushions. “Easy one first. Why am I here?”

“Easy answer. Mrs. O’Neil asked to meet you.”

“Second part of the question. Why? Other than to meet me?”

“You will have to ask her. My orders were to bring you here and to train you. Which you seem to be adapting to without a problem. When I first saw you, I thought it would take weeks.”

“You mean when you picked me up at the airport?”

“Oh my no. I saw you a couple of months ago, although you didn’t see me. Indeed, the day we started the project at that greasy restaurant you call Waffle House.”

“You were there?”

Clarice nodded her head. “Seamus, Simmons, and me. I’m not sure Seamus saw you then, but I caught a glimpse of you when you came in out of the rain. You looked wet and tired.”

“So, how did you get that message written on the sports page?”

“With a marking pen silly. Simmons had observed you over a period of several mornings and you always pulled the sports section out of the newspaper.”

Both LC and Clarice finished their drinks and before the highball glasses hit the table two fresh drinks appeared.

“I suppose you had me followed, too?”

Clarice didn’t answer but instead rocked back on the couch and sipped on her drink. “This one’s different. How do you like it?”

“Heavier gin flavor. I wouldn’t order it for myself.

“Finish your drink and pay the bartender. I have a long day tomorrow and we need to go.”

LC approached the bar.

“Two hundred sir.”

“Two hundred, what?”

The bartender grinned. “Euros. Includes service charge.”

LC placed two 100 euro bills on the table and walked back to Clarice. “Expensive gin.”

She smiled and held out her hand.

George was waiting when they arrived at the door. A few blocks later they arrived at the Ashling.

The door opened and LC slid out but Clarice grabbed his hand. “I get a good night kiss. George walk away a minute,” she ordered.

LC bent over and Clarice pulled LC back into the car and held his face and kissed him with full passion. “Liam, if I didn’t have to work tomorrow morning, we would rock the night away.”

He tried to stand from his awkward position with his hand on the headrest of the front seat. She tightened the grip on his face and then pulled him down once more. Finally, he broke away and stood upright.

“You’re in Scotland tomorrow, I’m in Hungary. Hardly seems fair. Tomorrow night, Liam. I’ll see you here tomorrow night.”

George came around and closed the door and the sedan pulled away.

To be continued...