All the Lonely People
She had finally made her way to the bar, smiling wickedly as she leaned forward enough to give the bartender a good look down her dress. There was a bit of space between her and Jake Mackenzie, she made a quick glance at him and looked him over and gave an inviting smile before turning back to the bartender.
The bartender, apparently in a rage of hormones, did not even bother to disguise lustful gazes while he readied to take her order. Jake felt it was the time to begin to setting his trap, speaking before she could.
“Vodka, barkeep. For the lady,” Mackenzie said, she looked momentarily amused and surprised. He held a finger up as he continued, “And add just a bit of apple juice for taste.”
She went from amused to surprised, “I’m impressed.”
Mackenzie held up his drink, the same drink. “Just recognize someone with selective taste.”
Jake could tell that he had her attention, at least for the moment. In less than a minute the bartender had delivered her drink, refilled the peanuts, and wiped down the area in front of her. Lust can be a powerful motivator Jake mused.
He motioned to the glass.
“So Kristie, enjoy your drink.”
Jake watched as her amusement quickly become fear. Her body language became one of a trapped animal. Jake could actually see that her heart was beating faster, making the blood he craved move faster.
He fought the urge to lick my lips.
“Do I know you?” she asked with more than a hint of fear and concern in her voice. She seemed to be mentally trying to place me.
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed, “Then how do you…?” she stammered. Jake saw the fear grow in her eyes, the subtle little things; the quickening of her breath, the way she gripped her drink tighter. The fight or flight in our hormones, just adding spice to her blood.
Then trying to regain her composure, she said with a nervous laugh, “Mind reader?”
“Only on weekends, birthday parties and such.” Jake commented with a smirk, “I am a friend of Morris.”
Visibly relaxing, she held out her hand, “And you are?”
Jake took it and pressed his lips to it. Never once losing eye contact, “They call me Mackenzie. Friends call me Mac.”
Kristie reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette, holding it between her lips as she dug for a lighter. The bartender nearly flew down the length of the bar with a lighter. Giving him a dismissing smile she turned away from him. Crestfallen, he went back to his other customers.
Taking a long appraising look at Mackenzie, she took a long drag of her cigarette. Playfully adding, “And what do I call you?”
“Anything you wish.”
She gave a soft laugh, “So tell me, mind reader, what am I thinking?”
Smiling Mackenzie motioned to the dance floor.
Copyright 2014-2021 Kohl Media Solutions. All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.