The door opened with a bang into a darkened room lit by the fluorescent hallway lighting and a streetlamp outside the far window. One hand still on the doorknob, Sam Malone pressed Diane Chambers up against the door in the throes of a torrid kiss. They'd been at the ballet that evening, and now, having literally run from Sam's car to his apartment, were finally free from the restraints of public decorum and Corvette confinements. As soon as his key hit the lock, Sam pulled her into the kiss he'd been aching to give her since she arrived at Cheers that evening, dressed to the nines for their date. Her hair was slightly mussed now and her silk dress a bit wrinkled, but the slight imperfections only stoked Sam's desire.
Eager to get to the good stuff, Sam blindly slapped at the wall in the entranceway to turn a light on, never suspecting it would do anything but expedite matters. The dim light from the overhead fixture in the foyer cast shadows all over Sam's apartment, and Diane's attention was drawn to the newly illuminated room. She'd never been to his place before and was immediately struck with the need to explore.
"Oh Sam… your apartment!" she exclaimed excitedly, breaking the kiss, "Your home…"
"Yeah, this is it alright. Not much, but it does have a bedroom…" he hinted broadly, eager to move the proceedings into the boudoir.
"Yes, of course, but I want the grand tour!"
"Right now? I mean, couldn't it wait?" he semi-whined, shifting his weight impatiently and gesturing toward the bedroom door.
"Oh, but Sam, one's domicile says so much about the person… It is the place you rest your head… your escape from the outside world… the place you are when you're away from me. Please Sam, I want to know you… to know all of you. To share that level of intimacy with you."
Sam perked up at the word intimacy, and the meaningful look she gave him when she said it. He decided to forego immediate gratification and play out the long game in the hopes of a heightened payoff. Luckily, his one bedroom flat would make for short work.
"Well, sure, sweetheart…" he began, looking around for things to point out.
His apartment was not lavish but spacious, and Diane was impressed by how tidy it was for a bachelor pad. Sam hit another light switch and the antique wall sconces filled the space with a warm incandescent glow.
Looking around the living room, she admired the masculine accoutrements. She'd rather anticipated that his decorating style would be early fraternity house, but was pleasantly surprised by what she found— the deep brown leather sofa and loveseat, set off by a sturdy burgundy armchair, a well-worn Persian rug and a burnished mahogany coffee table... Sam Malone had taste. Sure, it could use a woman's touch, but it was furnished and neat, save for a few stray piles of bills and a file box of ledgers brought home from the bar. She happily imagined him sitting in the armchair, studiously going over the books with a calculator, making notes and being the responsible human being she knew him to be. She wondered if he'd straightened the place up for her.
The room was equipped with an elaborate, high-end a/v system. This was clearly a man who enjoyed his television and his music. Diane wandered over to the long shelf of vinyl he had—no cassette tapes for Sam—and began perusing his collection. Sam & Dave, The Isely Brothers and James Brown were mixed in among The Beach Boys, Nat King Cole and the Rolling Stones. Down at the far end of the shelf lurked Ravel's Bolero, and Diane laughed out loud, pulling it from its hiding place.
"Sam, really?"
He grinned, remembering something Diane had said about that very album not too long ago. A floor mat and The Bolero played at 78?
"Hey, don't laugh… I was about to set a damn sexy mood with that," he replied, sidling up behind her. His breath was warm against her ear and his voice was like melted caramel. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her neck and she couldn't help sinking back into his embrace just a little before recovering.
"Now, Sam… the tour? First things first," she chastened.
"Oh yeah, sure… but first, let me show you what this baby can do. The stereo system, not the album."
He took The Bolero from her grip and slid the disc from its cover and onto the turntable. He flipped a few switches and soon the light crackle of needle on vinyl signaled the opening drum beat of Ravel's most notorious work.
Diane smiled at its familiarity. Had this been anyone else, she'd have ended the date immediately. She'd been on the receiving end of countless Bolero seduction attempts by clumsy graduate students in très bohème studio apartments, and it never failed to elicit an eye roll and a polite but swift exit from her. At least Sam knew better. Besides, Sam was no bohemian pseudo-intellect.
"Ah yes, it begins… the mating call of the rutting college male."
Sam smiled. He'd bought it because Bo Derek said something about it in that movie where she came running down the beach in that swimsuit. He'd stopped listening to it about 2 minutes in, when he realized it was classical music.
"Oh yeah? Maybe I oughta give it another go."
"Oh, Sam…" she laughed, "By the way, I must compliment you on the stereo. The sound fills every corner of the room beautifully. The perfect high fidelity asset to the décor."
She turned to continue her exploration, and out of the corner of her eye, Diane spotted it—a built-in bookshelf! With books! Quite a few! Diane gasped at the sight, and rushed over to take a closer look. There was Treasure Island, and The Hobbit and oh, Swiss Family Robinson and Huckleberry Finn! Granted, not exactly Tolstoy, but still, Sam Malone read!
Diane's eyes glistened with happy tears and her heart swelled to near bursting as she browsed the contents of his library. Thrilled by this revelation, she wondered what further hidden depth she had yet to discover in this terribly mysterious man. He was an enigma and a source of constant surprise. She knew his heart so well, but what went on in his head both eluded and excited her. What other wonderful secrets lay beneath that equally wonderful exterior? She was determined to be the one to find out. The challenge was irresistible and set her heart racing.
She could feel her pulse pounding along to the rising thrum of The Bolero, and the warmth of her coursing blood found her cheeks, leaving her flushed. She was overcome by an aching need for him. Breathing deeply to steady herself, she turned to face him. Her tousled visage was the very picture of unbridled desire. Her sparkling periwinkle eyes roamed over every inch of his frame, until they met his own.
He gazed at her, slightly puzzled at first, but then quickly recognized her look for what it was. His nostrils flared and he licked his lips in anticipation, never breaking eye contact with her, lest any momentum be lost. He could see she was on fire and he wasn't about to do anything that might douse the flames. When Diane Chambers got hot, she was damn near nuclear.
Without another word, she pounced, hands sliding over his chest, around his neck and into his hair, insistently pulling him ever closer. Her mouth consumed his, tongues burning and entwined in a kiss like none she'd ever given him before. Sam was thrilled by her combustible lust and met it with equal measure, passionately scooping her up in his arms and carrying her at long last to the bedroom.
"Boy that Bolero sure is doing its stuff!" he breathed in happy astonishment. Diane's musical laugh filled every corner of the apartment.