If they think this is happiness, there may be a serious need to redefine the word. And this ain’t Black Label, he thought as he watched the ice in his $ 15 cocktail glass deteriorate. Loud, dance music of pretty much any genre that includes “loud” and “dance” filled every inch of the bar, inspiring patrons to talk louder and dance less. The pulsating soundtrack was in stark contrast to the bar’s aesthetic. The decor was a sort of gentleman’s sports bar - a place of rich oak tones, with brass fixtures and barstool posts with round, spinning seats of burgundy leather padding. HD TV screens with a myriad of sports, news, and other distractions, silently competed for patron’s attention. Food was generally of the deep-fried and doctor-visit inducing variety.
He had been waiting for a while and the music had become a true test of patience, especially with his friend still absent. Meanwhile he, along with every other man in the bar, had been peripherally absorbing her undeniable magnetism. She of course noticed him, and in typical fashion, they each pretended to direct their attention elsewhere. Her, to the Brooks Brother offering her a drink despite her freshly poured martini, and he to a muted World Cup qualifier match. Miraculously, he managed to hear his phone ring shaking him out of his false dedication to the beautiful game. And with the stiff competition for his eardrum he heard, “Hey, I’m outside. I’ll be right in.”
“Finally.”
An affirmation if there ever was one. Jose waded through the sharks of the Gulf of Brickell that had been flooding the booths and tables to find Danny at the bar.
“Hey man,” Jose said greeting Danny with a pat on the shoulder causing him to turn from the bar.
“What’s going on, what was the hold up?”
“A gotdamn impromptu 4:45 meeting. Can you believe that shit? Anyways, you look like you could use another. What are you drinking?”
“Black Label.”
“Again?! When’d you get a raise?” Jose asked flipping through his bills.
“Yeah right.”
“Well, shit, you’re on your own with that Mr. Junior Associate. Why don’t you call me next time you go to Barney’s too?”
“What?”
“Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been stepping your game up. It may be a little dark in here, but I know Ralph Lauren when I see it. Yo, you know my birthday’s coming up, don’t you?” Jose asked reminding Danny with a Cheshire smile.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” not taking his eyes off the soccer game on the TV.
“And how’s Vanessa enjoying the new Johnny sipping, Polo dipping Danny?”
“Probably not as much as she’d like. It’s been awhile. Definitely not as much as I’d like!”
“Yeah, well, welcome to the sexual desert of new fatherhood, bro!”
Danny wanted to be pissed off, but Jose knew when and where to strike in a conversation with the choicest of words. He thought it better to laugh than cry anyways.
“Why do we keep coming here? I thought drinks were supposed to be cheap at happy hour?”
“This is cheap for this town. Besides, you know why,” Jose’s eyes wide with brows of a Pointer breed.
“Pfffff, yeah,” dismissed Danny.
But with all the posturing, Danny couldn’t avoid following Jose’s gesture taking a direct look at her, choosing to forego his prior discretion. Colombia’s most well known exports may be it’s coffee and South American snowflakes, but that’s only because the curves of Sofia Mendes never had to go through customs. She made 5’4” look like anything taller was excessive, and a physique that seemed to pay homage to the high altitudes and deep valleys of her home country, albeit with the green of the Andes replaced with the caramel of the Mendes. What Danny continued to ask himself more than anything, was how in the hell is this fine Colombiana not married with children, and getting massages at the Biltmore on her husband’s tab?
“Man, how did you not tag that?” Jose probed.
“I don’t know,” Danny said defeatedly.
“So what the hell happened? Or didn’t happen?”
“Life I guess. We had some mutual friends back in the day, so we’d see each other from time to time, but that was about it. We always vibed and I knew she was feeling me, but it never seemed to come together. Then she broke out to LA for college and worked out there for a few years. I hadn’t seen her for almost ten years and then last week, she’s sitting next to me at the bar buying me drinks.”
“Good, now you can hook the wifey and I up with a good anniversary present. You know what a room at the Four Seasons would do for my stock!”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever? The chick is Managing Director, right? She’ll hook it up, especially for you Papo.”
“You think so?”
“You said she was feeling you back in the day, and now 10 years later she’s buying you drinks. C’mon mano.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty official.”
“I agree. The girl obviously doesn’t play. She handles her business.”
“Yeah, she came up alright. She’s got a house in the Gables now, 3 series in the driveway and everything. “
“And no man,” Jose said with the tone of a shoulder dwelling devil. Danny’s silence affirmed Jose’s unnecessary reminder.
“If you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it,” Jose sang along with the music in the bar to Danny before interrupting himself with an eruption of laughter.
“Dumbass.”
And as if it is written in the laws of the universe somewhere, stare at someone long enough, they’ll notice. And Sofia did. And with the spark of eyes connecting, she was striding across the room like the Spaniards across the continent. Her pin straight black hair, reaching halfway down her back, permanently coppertoned skin, and her abyssal brown eyes drew sharp contrast to the tight aqua skirt and white blouse she wore whose top button struggled to perform it’s expected task with her every step.“Batter up, ” Jose whispered into Danny’s ear.
Danny could feel her heels clicking against the floor as she crossed the bar. Holding her glass in the air above the chaos of the bar patrons, she successfully traversed the pinstriped minefield of Walker, Greenfield, and Associates without taking a hit. She never took her eyes off Danny.
“Dun, dun. Dun, dun,” Jose joked to a now visibly tense Danny.
“Real funny. Chill,” Danny said soberly.
God Bless tradition, Danny thought as he felt her lips greet his cheek hello.
“What’s up Danny, how are you?” Sofia asked loudly over the music as her lingering right hand brushed his wrist. “Twice in 2 weeks, huh?”
“Yeah, Jose and I have been coming here lately, cool spot.”
“Yeah, we met last time. Nice to see you, “ she said, politely smiling to Jose. Jose raised his glass and smiled and nodded in affirmation.
“So how have you been?” she asked Danny with a decided precision, quickly eliminating Jose from the conversation.
“I’m good. Been real busy. The firm is making sure they’re getting their money’s worth out of me. There’s been a lot of late nights at the office. ”
“Yeah me too. Now that the weather’s cooling down, we’re booking a lot of rooms. Everybody wants to be in Miami right now.”
Amen, Danny thought, his brain transporting him from their conversation to the land beneath the white cotton of her mid-week blouse. Jose had diverted his attention to the close captioning of Sportscenter on the bar’s TV, since he had no interest in becoming the bothersome child in the adult conversation.
“So, what are you doing for dinner? Don’t tell me you’re eating here again?” she inquired, breaking Danny out of his gutteral trance.
“Why, what’s wrong with this place? You’re here,” he said half-jokingly.
“Nothing. But, the chef isn’t as good a cook as I am,” her eyes focused on him like a sniper’s laser sight.
“So, what are you gonna cook for me?”
And as the words came out of his mouth, he felt his foot going in. What the fuck are you doing he screamed within. Johnny Walker needs to keep his mouth shut! He felt himself getting sucked into the moment and could see Jose grinning out of the corner of his eye as he absorbed the gossip worthy conversation within earshot.
“Whatever you’re hungry for,” she said with a grin. “Come by my house tonight and I’ll cook for you.”
“I don’t know how Vanessa would feel about that.”
“She doesn’t have to feel any way about it. You’re working late at the office tonight, aren’t you?” she said with a sensuous smile.
He tried to look away from her eyes, now piercing and as dark as cacao beans. But by now, the coal was steady burning in the locomotive and the station was only a dot on the horizon. Even some Ali footwork wouldn’t get him out of the corner of this situation. She was doing the floating, and he was about to be stung.
“Alright. Sounds good,” he said with a misleading smile. “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll cook up something special.”
“I remember you said you live in the Gables, right?” as if he forgot.
“Yeah, 355 Majorca. Do you know where that is?”
“Yeah, and even if I don’t, I’ll make sure I’ll find it, “ now grinning like a lottery winner.
“Alright, well call me. 305 597 1327,” she rattled off, Danny struggling to get out his phone and punch in the keys.
“Now call my cell.”
Danny called her phone and the exchange was made.
“Come by in about an hour,” she said, now very pleased.
And with their arrangement sealed with another brush of her lips on his cheek, she was off. Within five steps of her departure, Jose quickly spun around on the barstool.
“Yo, what are you doing?” asked a baffled Jose.
“Going to eat some dinner,” Danny said smugly.
“Oye mano, we come here and look around and talk some shit, and have a good time. Have a few drinks and go home to the family. Don’t go complicating things.”
“Chill Jose.”
“Nah, this right here is a whole other ballgame. You’ll need Manny to handle your divorce and then I’ll have to pay for all the drinks,” he said with a half reassuring smirk.
“I hear you, Jose,” Danny assured, glass still between his lips as he finished his drink.
“Well, where you going bro?” Jose prodded.
“To get some dinner,” Danny calmly replied. He took his wallet out of his pocket and left the cash on the bar for both of their drinks. “I’m out, I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
“Alright man. Later. But I don’t want to hear shit when you need a couch to sleep on.”
Danny hopped into his car and sped hurriedly through downtown and onto the on ramp of the freeway. He pulled his phone out of his inside jacket pocket. I’ll give her a call. Let her know I’m on the way. Maybe she’ll need me to pick something up, he thought. He pressed 4 on the keypad and send.
“Hey, how are you? I’m good. I’m on my way. You need me to pick anything up. Ok, I’ll see you soon,” he concluded with a smile.
As requested, he purchased a bottle of Pinot on the way. It had been awhile since he had a glass of wine. He slowly pulled into the driveway, shut off the lights, and put the car into park, as if indefinitely. Walking up to the door, a calm came over his body like being submerged into a warm bath. And like the flashing dip of a baptism, the warm, spicy smells wafting out of the windows shook him out of his sense of comfort. He knew the door would be open, but figured it best to knock first. No need to startle a woman with pots of hot food in front of her.
Knock-knock.
Walking into the house, he noticed all the lights were off in the living room. His only guides through the house were the light escaping the kitchen that draped the hallway with shadows, and the sweet, colorful smells being distributed though the house by the cold front blowing through the open windows. As he walked the length of the corridor, he paused his momentum in the arched doorway to look at her, still and quiet, to truly appreciate her beauty. She had beautiful hair. It was one of the first things that drew him to her. Her back was turned to the doorway when he placed the bottle of wine down. The clink of the glass on the granite counter top revealed his presence, but she already knew he was there. She knew sometimes he would quietly gaze at her.
“You know you shouldn’t leave the door open. Anyone could walk right in,” he said with a grin. “How’s our girl?” he asked approaching to kiss her on the neck.
“Hey baby,” she purred in his embrace. “She’s already asleep and you better be hungry,” she lovingly demanded, turning from the stove and smiling with a charm only she possessed. She put her arms around him greeting with a kiss. “I wanted to try cooking something new. It's coconut curry chicken.”
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