Chapter Two
Monica entered the bar at exactly 7:55pm and carefully observed her surroundings. It was a large place, tastefully decorated in different shades of blue and green with panels of aged wood running along the whole room. Old-style lamps hung on the ceiling and the walls, giving the place a warm comforting glow. Music filtered from the large stereo that was next to the bar which stretched from one side of the room to the other. On each side to the room there were small booths, upholstered in forest green leather with beautiful oak tables contained within them. Small round wooden tables with chairs were also arranged neatly in the middle of the room. Surprisingly for a Saturday night the place wasn't too crowded, most people opting for the numerous trendy bars and nightclubs New York had to offer instead.
Monica looked around the whole place, not being able to see her partner anywhere. Suddenly doubts started entering her mind about coming alone to a bar deep in the heart of New York. Scenarios started flashing in Monica's head at the possibility that John actually hadn't been the one to write the mysterious note. After all, he had told her he only wanted to stay alone in his room tonight. Monica quickly shook her head, dismissing the notions while scolding herself for being so paranoid. It had definitely been John's writing on that note. She had even knocked on his door again before she left for the bar to check whether he was in there, but again had no response. She figured he was probably just late, deciding she may as well get a drink and just hope that John will turn up later.
Perching herself on a metal barstool, she ordered a beer from the bartender who returned with it almost instantly. Monica took a gulp from the bottle before turning around to face the entrance, hoping to see John walk through it in the next minute or so. The only people to come through the door though was another couple, who had evidently released their sexual frustrations out in the back alleyway, and a woman who seemed to think that it was trendy to have her bright blue hair done up to resemble like she had just came in from a hurricane.
"You know, there's more interesting things to see around here than a door."
Monica turned around in shock. She had been so absorbed in watching the entrance that she'd failed to see a tall man with slick black hair take the barstool next to her. He was dressed in a grey pinstriped suit, his garish pink tartan tie having been loosened some time ago. A few of his top shirt buttons were undone allowing some of his thick black chest hair to just peek over the top of his shirt. He held a whisky glass in his hand, some of the amber liquid spilling out as the man gestured with his hands. "I'm sorry?" Monica questioned.
"I said, there are more interesting things to see in this place than a door." The guy repeated with his strong New York accent before he smiled slyly at her. "Like ME for example…"
Monica sighed. She really didn't want to deal with guys trying to chat her up tonight…especially those that thought they were God's gift to women. "Listen, I'm meeting someone…"
"Well, they're not here right now are they?" the man interjected. "I'm sure they won't mind if I keep you company." The man looked up and down Monica's body, his gaze lingering on her breasts and bare legs. His breathing started to become deep and heavy. "Though I must say, I wouldn't have kept a woman with your sexy body waiting for so long…"
Monica cringed and suddenly wished that she hadn't chosen the black satin dress she was wearing. It was a very simple dress meaning that it was generally suitable for any occasion. Its non-crease material meant it could be folded easily in the travel bag she kept in her SUV and whipped out whenever the opportunity arose when she needed it. However, it had been some time since she had actually worn the dress and was surprised when she'd discovered that it had shrunk a little during that time. Its hemline was now a little higher above the knee meaning that quite a lot of her long slender legs was revealed when she sat down. The rest of the clothes in her bag though mainly consisted of t-shirts and jeans so, having little choice in the matter, she had simply thrown her tan leather jacket on top, figuring that John wouldn't mind her showing even more of her body than usual. Monica had even secretly hoped that it could maybe help their relationship to move along a little. However, she hadn't anticipated on John being late and that she would have to cope with sleazy drunk men leering at her instead.
"Look I really just want to drink my beer and wait for my friend in peace…" Monica wanted to get rid of this guy with minimum trouble but he was really starting to get on her nerves with his stubbornness. "Please, would you mind just leaving me alone…"
"Darling, in New York, it's never safe to leave a gorgeous young woman on her own at a bar." The guy started stroking her hand that was resting on the top of the bar, his face now an inch away from hers. "You never know the kind of scum that will try to come onto you…"
"Oh, I'm sure I can look after myself." Monica replied curtly, quickly retracting the hand underneath his fingers and leaned away from him. She had finally lost patience with the guy and decided it was time to use her last resort. "When they start getting closer to me than I like, I'll just use this on their lower extremities…" Monica pulled back the side of her jacket to reveal her concealed gun, attached as always in its holster by her side, the sleek black metal glinting in the bar's overhead lights.
The guy's face suddenly turned pale at the sight of the gun, his eyes becoming wide. "Ah…err…yes." He replied, his voice coming out as a high squeak. "Errm…that would be an…err…effective way…errm…excuse me…I…err…think my friend is calling me over there…" He then hastily got off the stool and fled towards one of the booths.
Monica let out a sigh of relief at the man's retreating form. She'd had enough. It was now 8:20pm and there was still no sign of John. She guessed with disappointment that he must have chickened out or something, deciding he still couldn't handle having company tonight. She started finishing off her beer, contemplating whether to get McDonald's drive-through or pizza for dinner when she felt someone slide into the stool next to her.
Thinking it was the same guy as before having decided it was better to get shot in the crotch than risk humiliation in front of his mates at failing to score, Monica turned around in frustration with her eyes blazing, intending to beat her message into his thick skull with her beer bottle if necessary.
"LOOK! I thought I TOLD you I wasn't…" She didn't get to finish her sentence, the words becoming stuck in her throat, as a pair of ice blue eyes transfixed her with their deep compelling intensity.
End of Chapter Two
Monica entered the bar at exactly 7:55pm and carefully observed her surroundings. It was a large place, tastefully decorated in different shades of blue and green with panels of aged wood running along the whole room. Old-style lamps hung on the ceiling and the walls, giving the place a warm comforting glow. Music filtered from the large stereo that was next to the bar which stretched from one side of the room to the other. On each side to the room there were small booths, upholstered in forest green leather with beautiful oak tables contained within them. Small round wooden tables with chairs were also arranged neatly in the middle of the room. Surprisingly for a Saturday night the place wasn't too crowded, most people opting for the numerous trendy bars and nightclubs New York had to offer instead.
Monica looked around the whole place, not being able to see her partner anywhere. Suddenly doubts started entering her mind about coming alone to a bar deep in the heart of New York. Scenarios started flashing in Monica's head at the possibility that John actually hadn't been the one to write the mysterious note. After all, he had told her he only wanted to stay alone in his room tonight. Monica quickly shook her head, dismissing the notions while scolding herself for being so paranoid. It had definitely been John's writing on that note. She had even knocked on his door again before she left for the bar to check whether he was in there, but again had no response. She figured he was probably just late, deciding she may as well get a drink and just hope that John will turn up later.
Perching herself on a metal barstool, she ordered a beer from the bartender who returned with it almost instantly. Monica took a gulp from the bottle before turning around to face the entrance, hoping to see John walk through it in the next minute or so. The only people to come through the door though was another couple, who had evidently released their sexual frustrations out in the back alleyway, and a woman who seemed to think that it was trendy to have her bright blue hair done up to resemble like she had just came in from a hurricane.
"You know, there's more interesting things to see around here than a door."
Monica turned around in shock. She had been so absorbed in watching the entrance that she'd failed to see a tall man with slick black hair take the barstool next to her. He was dressed in a grey pinstriped suit, his garish pink tartan tie having been loosened some time ago. A few of his top shirt buttons were undone allowing some of his thick black chest hair to just peek over the top of his shirt. He held a whisky glass in his hand, some of the amber liquid spilling out as the man gestured with his hands. "I'm sorry?" Monica questioned.
"I said, there are more interesting things to see in this place than a door." The guy repeated with his strong New York accent before he smiled slyly at her. "Like ME for example…"
Monica sighed. She really didn't want to deal with guys trying to chat her up tonight…especially those that thought they were God's gift to women. "Listen, I'm meeting someone…"
"Well, they're not here right now are they?" the man interjected. "I'm sure they won't mind if I keep you company." The man looked up and down Monica's body, his gaze lingering on her breasts and bare legs. His breathing started to become deep and heavy. "Though I must say, I wouldn't have kept a woman with your sexy body waiting for so long…"
Monica cringed and suddenly wished that she hadn't chosen the black satin dress she was wearing. It was a very simple dress meaning that it was generally suitable for any occasion. Its non-crease material meant it could be folded easily in the travel bag she kept in her SUV and whipped out whenever the opportunity arose when she needed it. However, it had been some time since she had actually worn the dress and was surprised when she'd discovered that it had shrunk a little during that time. Its hemline was now a little higher above the knee meaning that quite a lot of her long slender legs was revealed when she sat down. The rest of the clothes in her bag though mainly consisted of t-shirts and jeans so, having little choice in the matter, she had simply thrown her tan leather jacket on top, figuring that John wouldn't mind her showing even more of her body than usual. Monica had even secretly hoped that it could maybe help their relationship to move along a little. However, she hadn't anticipated on John being late and that she would have to cope with sleazy drunk men leering at her instead.
"Look I really just want to drink my beer and wait for my friend in peace…" Monica wanted to get rid of this guy with minimum trouble but he was really starting to get on her nerves with his stubbornness. "Please, would you mind just leaving me alone…"
"Darling, in New York, it's never safe to leave a gorgeous young woman on her own at a bar." The guy started stroking her hand that was resting on the top of the bar, his face now an inch away from hers. "You never know the kind of scum that will try to come onto you…"
"Oh, I'm sure I can look after myself." Monica replied curtly, quickly retracting the hand underneath his fingers and leaned away from him. She had finally lost patience with the guy and decided it was time to use her last resort. "When they start getting closer to me than I like, I'll just use this on their lower extremities…" Monica pulled back the side of her jacket to reveal her concealed gun, attached as always in its holster by her side, the sleek black metal glinting in the bar's overhead lights.
The guy's face suddenly turned pale at the sight of the gun, his eyes becoming wide. "Ah…err…yes." He replied, his voice coming out as a high squeak. "Errm…that would be an…err…effective way…errm…excuse me…I…err…think my friend is calling me over there…" He then hastily got off the stool and fled towards one of the booths.
Monica let out a sigh of relief at the man's retreating form. She'd had enough. It was now 8:20pm and there was still no sign of John. She guessed with disappointment that he must have chickened out or something, deciding he still couldn't handle having company tonight. She started finishing off her beer, contemplating whether to get McDonald's drive-through or pizza for dinner when she felt someone slide into the stool next to her.
Thinking it was the same guy as before having decided it was better to get shot in the crotch than risk humiliation in front of his mates at failing to score, Monica turned around in frustration with her eyes blazing, intending to beat her message into his thick skull with her beer bottle if necessary.
"LOOK! I thought I TOLD you I wasn't…" She didn't get to finish her sentence, the words becoming stuck in her throat, as a pair of ice blue eyes transfixed her with their deep compelling intensity.
End of Chapter Two