CHAPTER – 45: A Night on the Town (3)

After setting the plates on the table, Siran pulled a chair next to me, sat down, and started quizzing me about the girls. From her questions I understood, Hagop told her my quip. Reaching for my glass, she took a sip from my Ouzo and chased it with a sip of water. “You know, this is the first time I see you with female company, and without your cousin.”

“Already getting jealous,” I teased her, and she smiled appreciatively.

“I’m too old for you honey, and you’re too young for me.”

“Ahh! That’s where you’re wrong. You’re just like a fine wine, and I’m at the age to appreciate a fine wine,” I quipped.

She gave me a surprised look, clearly not expecting my friendly flirtation, but it quickly gave way to a smile, appreciating my little quip for what it was, a compliment. “You shouldn’t put ideas in Hagop’s mind. He might ask for a trade in,” she retorted. Turning to Dana and Sarah, she said, “You don’t mind it, do you? It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and he’s always been too quiet, even after a couple of glasses of Ouzo with his cousin. Never figured he would get over his quiet self. Which one of you is responsible for the change?”

“She is,” Sarah responded immediately, glancing at Dana. “I’ve known him since we were kids. His sister and I are best friends. He used to be shy then also. I think he’s getting over it.”

“Finally... Someone managed to do what neither I nor his cousin could do,” Siran said, flashing a soft smile at Dana.

“Oh, I didn’t do much. He’s still quite shy. Just look at his face,” Dana responded.

As usual, my face heated up; I felt self-conscious at being the subject of the three-way conversation between the women. Siran laughed at me, while reaching for my glass again, and after she took a sip, she handed me the glass, and said, “Drink up. You can claim the blush is from the alcohol.”

That didn’t help much, but I decided to take her advice, and took a sip. “What did I do to deserve all this teasing?” I retorted.

“Nothing, Mitchell. I always wondered what was beneath your quiet and calm demeanor. I like it.” Changing the subject she asked, “We don’t get to see you, not as much as we used to see your cousin.”

“Umm... This is just a short visit. I might look him up later. It’s been a while. Has he been here, lately?”

“He was here last month with some musicians,” she replied, and as an after thought, she added, “there was a new woman with him also.”

“Really?”

Siran nodded, flashing me a conspiratory smile. “They were very friendly with each other.”

“I guess I have some catching up to do with him.”

“It would be nice to see you both again,” she said, and stood up. “Let me check what Hagop is up to in the kitchen. Enjoy the evening.”

When she left, Sarah asked, “Do you know each other so well?”

I was surprised by the question, and seeing my puzzled look, Sarah’s eyes went to my glass to remind me what Siran did.

“Hagop and Siran are very friendly, and with some of the customers, they would sit down and have a chat or join for a drink and a bite. They both did that when my uncle and I dropped by for a quiet dinner, so they both know me to some degree.”

“Well, it sounded like she knew you,” Dana commented.

“Kind of. Siran always tried to draw me out, but I was more of a listener than a talker at the time, despite my uncle’s best efforts. As I said before, I enjoyed the company of older people, and Siran is. That’s why she succeeded to some degree, after a few times sitting with her, but it was usually Hagop who sat with us and drank. Siran would drop by for short intervals, but she was usually busy with the other customers, or in the kitchen. That’s another reason I like this place. It has a homey feel.”

“It does,” Dana concurred.

We continued to talk and drink and eat. By the time the appetizers were almost finished, we were on our second glass of Ouzo. I saw Hagop stop at the actor’s table, before visiting our table. He inquired what we would like to have for the main course, listing what he had. Dana wanted to see the fish, before making a choice—another custom in this restaurant. So we all stood up and followed him to look at what he had tonight.

Before we reached the kitchen, there was a large refrigerator, like the ones in the meat and poultry section of supermarkets, open at the back, with a glass front. Different types of fish were on display in big trays, and small cards listed the daily price for each, in front of the trays. Depending on the catch, and demand, the prices varied from day to day, but not too much, unless the weather interrupted the supply for long periods. We looked over the selection: there was sea bass, mackerel, bluefish (the local variety which was slightly less strong and oily than the Atlantic bluefish), and turbot. The sea bass was one of my favorites, and Hagop mentioned all were today’s catch, fresh from the Fish Market with the exception of the mackerel. After a short discussion we all opted for sea bass, pointed at three medium sized pieces, and Hagop picked them up. After he weighed them he announced the price, rounding it down—‘special price’ for his regulars. Most of his clients left a big tip to make up for it, and I was no exception. It was sort of a game between him and his customers when it came to fish. If it was a dinner consisting of Ouzo and appetizers only, then there were no price adjustments, and the tips were a bit more measured. After all, many of his regulars were journalists and writers, who came to dine simply, to enjoy the appetizers, a glass or two, and the company of their fellow colleagues discussing the day’s events, politics, and such, or just to relax after a busy day, before heading home.

He suggested grill, and when we agreed, he went to the kitchen to prepare them. We walked back to our table, and I saw Felix—the actor—watching us, especially the girls. Then his eyes settled on my face and he smiled in recognition and gave a short nod as a way of greeting, which I returned. On a whim, I decided to greet him properly, and directed the girls to his table. After I made the introductions, we exchanged pleasantries, and then returned to our table.

When we took our seats, I noticed that Sarah looked a bit flushed. Dana was smiling at her with a knowing expression. Seeing us watching her, her flush deepened. I couldn’t help but tease her. “Why don’t you visit the ladies’ room and get refreshed?”

She flashed her eyes at me angrily, but it wasn’t very effective, considering the circumstances.

“You behave yourself, Mitch. You did that on purpose,” Dana admonished me.

“No, I did not. He recognized me, and it would have been impolite not to drop by.”

“That may be so, but you didn’t have to tease her,” Dana returned.

“Well, I warned her about paybacks, didn’t I? You girls can give, but can’t take it?” I retorted smugly.

Dana was going to continue, but Sarah cut in.

“It’s all right, Dana,” she said. With a twinkle in her eyes, she added, “If he wants to tango, we will accommodate him.”

“Indeed, we will,” Dana agreed, with a side glance at me.

“You know... he’s sitting by himself, all alone. The polite thing to do is to invite him to our table. What do you think?” I asked with a poker face.

To my surprise, instead of reprimanding or warning me, both of them laughed. Leaning forward to Sarah, Dana said, “Either he’s had too much alcohol, or he’s developed a big set in a hurry.”

“I hope it’s the latter,” Sarah responded with a grin.

“Me, too.”

“You forgot a third possibility,” I said, and when I had their full attention, I quipped, “all of the above.”

They let out another tinkling laugh. Dana picked up her glass and offered a quiet toast. “To big brass ones!” and Sarah joined her.

I wasn’t sure where it came from, but the next thing I did was move closer to them and kiss their hands before I picked my glass and offered, “To you. Two lovely witches who tease me to death and make my heart sing.”

Sarah was quick with a come back. “You’ve got it wrong, Mitch. I’m a witch, and she,” she said, and turning to Dana added, “is a she-devil. And you... uh... what’s he, Dana?”

“I think he’s a romantic, and... all of the above,” Dana retorted. Then, she leaned and kissed my neck, while Sarah looked on with an adoring expression on her face. “And, this is from Sarah, to tide you over until she can give it to you personally,” Dana said, and repeated her kiss. Noticing something, she took her napkin and gently scrubbed my neck. I realized she had left a lipstick mark.

We continued to talk, and ate the last of the few remaining appetizers, while waiting for the main course to arrive. It was a lovely night, and the windows reflected our image, with the sights of the city forming a nice, faint backdrop. A while later, Hagop came with a tray, and served our plates and a small cup with a dressing. The fish looked delicious. There were charred laurel leaves, which added to the aroma. After I removed the leaves, I drizzled a little bit of the dressing over the fish, a mixture of olive oil, lemon juice, parsley and small slivers of sweet, red onions. Sarah did the same, and after a little hesitation, Dana decided to use very little on her fish, probably to test it first.

“It’s somewhat similar to the lime sauce they use for sole in England,” I offered. “I usually take sea bass without any dressing or sauce, but I like Hagop’s mix.”

Giving me an almost apologetic smile, she said, “I’m a bit embarrassed that I know so little about some of the local cuisine.”

“Why? Food is always a personal experience, not about knowing this or that. And, the lasagna yesterday was great, and that tells me you’re a good cook. So why would you feel embarrassed? You’re probably away from home most of the time, eating out, but that also means you’ve sampled different cuisines. I like trying different stuff, and enjoy most of it, but some things are just personal favorites; like the fried mussels with the sauce, here. I’ve eaten at Chez Léon, in Brussels. They are famous for their mussels, and I loved it, but if I had to make a choice...”

She laughed at my example, and nodded. “Yes. You’re right. I only cook for myself, and that’s when I’m at home. You really prefer the mussels here, rather than Chez Léon?”

“Kind of. I mean, I wouldn’t go for their style of cooking here, and in Brussels, I wouldn’t want them to try our style. It’s hard to explain. When in Rome...” I trailed off.

“Do as the Romans do,” she completed, and patted my hand. “I didn’t know you’ve been to Belgium. Where else have you been?”

“I haven’t traveled that much. I just took advantage of the seminars and technical courses, and made sure my schedule allowed a week or two to travel, afterwards. I’ve been to Aberdeen a few times, London only once. Mostly though, I visited Belgium, Holland, Germany and Austria. I think I’ve spent most of my time in Amsterdam.”

“Not been to France or Italy?”

“Not yet. I’ve planned to, but somehow I always end up running out of time or feel too tired to travel further. If I was passing by Amsterdam, then that was it. Even when I try to put Amsterdam at the end of my itinerary, I usually drop by earlier than planned and stay there. I guess it has something to do with wanting the comfort of a familiar place. After all, I know Amsterdam quite well, in fact better than most other places, and it’s a lively city just like this town. I really like Holland; the Dutch are very liberal, and most of them speak several languages. France... I don’t know. First, there is the language barrier. Then the people themselves. Based on the few French people I’ve met, I have to say I don’t like them very much. Sometimes I wonder if the country is along the Mediterranean coast by some mistake. Almost all the other people along the Mediterranean are friendlier, warm, and they try to overcome the language barrier, one way or another. I’ve known Spanish, Italian, Greek, and many others, and I’ve never seen the typical French arrogance or superiority among them. I know I’m generalizing and perhaps I’m more than a bit prejudiced, but I do have a very dim view of the few I’ve met.”

“Well, not all of the French are like that,” Dana said.

“I guess. I just would like to know something. Don’t misunderstand me. This is not exactly a generalization, but from what I’ve seen and heard, I think it’s a somewhat valid observation about them. Many of the French people think they are the center of civilization, and that they invented democracy and such. Worse, they base it on a single revolution—one of the bloodiest! What a laugh! It’s a bit ironic that this is their—what... fourth or fifth republic? By the way, I do have an interest in history, but to tell the truth, I’m a bit weak on French history. Anyway, strictly speaking in terms of length, compared to ours, I think their history is a spoonful in a bucket, and I’m sure the Chinese would look at it as a miniscule drop, when they can claim more than 4000 years. So, where do the French get this feeling of superiority? I would really like to kn—” I stopped in mid-sentence, realizing I was switching fully into a lecturer mode. Yes, I was trying to make a point, but... With an apologetic smile, I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lecture. I’m sure there are some very nice French people.”

“I understand, Mitch. You’re right about that observation. I think it’s a particular trait of the ‘Parisiennes’, rather than the general population. Many of them—Parisiennes—think they’re the center of civilization. But then, they’re French, I mean, Parisiennes,” she said with a small laugh. “Amsterdam is nice, but you should really try Paris. I think you’d like it.”

“I planned to, but most of the time I considered a visit, it felt like such a cliché. I know it’s a very romantic city, but what am I supposed to do there?” I replied.

As the last words left my lips, I realized what I was saying, and I noticed how Dana’s expression changed, almost as if she had read the unspoken words between the lines, my reasons hidden just beneath the surface. For several seconds our eyes locked, communicating silently.

It’s a city for lovers, and I never had anybody with me to share the experience before! But now...

We both spoke—well, attempted to speak—at the same time, and stopped immediately, wanting to let the other one talk. After two more false starts, Sarah interrupted us with a little giggle. When we turned our attention to her, she flashed a mischievous smile and said, “I’d like to be the traffic police. Dana, you go first!”

We both laughed at her quip. Collecting herself quickly, Dana reached and took Sarah’s hand. “Thank you, Sarah. Without you, I think we would spend the whole night here with false starts.” Sarah responded with a squeeze of her hand and smiled sweetly.

Turning to me Dana said, “I’d like to show you around.”

“I was going to ask you just that, after your comment about Paris,” I replied. “I have a trip to Aberdeen coming up sometime in March. I have to take an exam, so I might be able to arrange something then.”

“See. That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?” Sarah quipped again, making us smile.

“Sarah, have you been abroad?” Dana asked.

“Only once. A year ago, I worked in a hospital in Austria for two months during the summer. It was a short exchange program with students from various countries. After that, I spent a month, traveling around.”

“Where did you go?” Dana asked.

“Parts of Austria, then Italy and France. I loved France, but Italy is my favorite. First Bolzano, then down to Venice, and from there, I went to Florence and Rome. Afterwards to Genoa, and Milan. I really loved Lombardy and Lake Como, but Lake Como was very expensive, and I wanted to visit France.”

“That’s a very good itinerary for Italy,” Dana remarked. “Lombardy is great, but so is the Trentino region. They have some breathtaking landscape with alpine meadows, waterfalls, and small, enchanting towns.”

“Yeah. I saw parts of it, when I left Austria, traveling to Bolzano. We crossed the famous Brenner Pass, and the small towns were beautiful. I like the Italians. They are friendly.”

“Yes, especially the men,” Dana quipped.

“Yeah, they are,” Sarah agreed. “Despite the weather I had to wear jeans.”

That last comment was met with an amused laughter from Dana. “Friendly pats on the bottom or pinches?” she asked.

“Both,” Sarah responded with a grin. “I was lucky. There was an Italian girl in our group in Austria. She offered to be my guide, and showed me around. She was very good at giving the guys a tongue lashing, but still...”

“They are quite insistent and very expressive when they take an interest. You’re a very striking woman, Sarah. Can you blame them?” Dana responded.

“Thank you. I liked the attention, but sometimes it was a bit too much, especially the young guys. I wonder if it’s something genetic? However, I had a great time.”

We returned to our food after the short discussion, and between bites, continued talking about our favorite places, and comparing notes. By the time we were through with the fish, we were almost finished with our drinks, too—the carafe of Ouzo was empty, with little left over in our glasses. Dana ordered one more round of Ouzo—by the glass this time—and wedges of melon.

“Don’t look so surprised, Mitch. I told you I like it,” she said.

“I can see that. My mom, and occasionally Kathy, drink it straight as you do.”

“Well, I learned it from Dad, when I was young. Mom used to drink it as well, when he was alive.”

“It also has a good side-effect... on women,” Sarah chimed, eliciting a knowing smile from Dana.

“As if either of you need that kind of extra boost,” I retorted.

“You wanted to tango, if I remember correctly. We’re just getting ready for it,” Dana returned.

Before I could get in another word, Sarah asked, “Dana, do you know of any good places where we could go? A place with good music, atmosphere and dancing? Not a discotheque.”

“There is a club I visit sometimes. It has good music. You want to dance?” Dana replied.

“I’d like to. It’s been a while.”

“Ehm... Ladies! I’m really rusty. I don’t—”

“Oh, come on, Mitch,” Sarah cut me off. “You’ll get over it. If it’s been that long, it’s time to get some exercise.”

When Dana nodded in agreement, I knew it was inevitable. During the day, when they were making plans, I heard them talk about visiting a club, but I never really gave it a thought, expecting them to choose a bar with music. Now, it was obvious both of them wanted to go dancing. I also remembered them dressing, putting on their high-heels, and perhaps that was why I never gave a serious thought to their talk of dancing.

“Umm... I don’t want to step on toes,” I tried, one more time.

“You better not, Buster! There will be repercussions,” Sarah returned, reading my sly move correctly. “I know you can dance.”

Dana arched an eyebrow, questioning, and when I didn’t answer, Sarah took it upon herself to explain. “Kathy and Mitch used to take dance lessons. I know he can dance.”

“That was a long time ago, when we were kids,” I objected, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Quit whining, Mitch. It doesn’t become you,” Sarah retorted.

“I think he’s scared of being raped on the dance floor in front of an audience,” Dana quipped, eliciting a laugh from Sarah.

“Hmmm... In that case, he has a legitimate cause for concern,” Sarah replied, flashing me an evil grin.

“Don’t scare him off before we do anything, Sarah.”

“Don’t you think we should keep him on his toes?” Sarah asked innocently.

“Yes, you’re right. Anticipation would do him some good,” Dana agreed.

I took a large swig, the last of the Ouzo in my glass, and Dana immediately warned me. “Don’t you dare get drunk on us. You can’t escape so easily.”

“I’m not going to do something like that. I’m just trying to settle my nerves,” I retorted.

“Leave that to us, honey. That’s our job,” she replied softly with a teasing smile.

Siran’s arrival put a stop to the teasing. While she collected our plates, and placed new sets and cutlery, she mentioned they had fresh dessert, and listed the options. As soon as I heard one of my favorites I knew what I was going to order, but it had to wait. She returned with a plate of melon and our drinks, and a small glass of Ouzo for herself, then she sat next to me. We all praised the excellent food, and she told us Hagop would be very pleased. Siran moved the subject to Sarah and Dana, trying to get to know them, and the girls asked about Hagop and her, and the restaurant. I lit a cigarette, and for the most part listened in on the conversation, but I wasn’t excluded. A few minutes later, Dana joined me by lighting a cigarette, and we continued chatting, while drinking Ouzo and sampling the melon. We saw Hagop making his rounds, before he joined us, pulling a chair from another table, and he immediately poached Siran’s drink. After the usual pleasantries about the food, he asked me why I had disappeared for such a long time. I gave him the usual story of being caught up in work, and such, and we caught up with what was happening in our lives. Siran left us to check on the other clients, and after she made her rounds, she sat with Felix, chatting, while Hagop sat with us. Because I hadn’t had a chance to talk with Felix, I asked Hagop about him.

“He was busy with a TV serial. It should be coming out in a couple of months,” he replied.

“No movies?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t mention anything. I think he’s looking for a quiet period. Get out of the city and have a vacation.”

“It must have been a long project.”

“Yes, it was. He was frequently here, after the shoots, the last 7–8 months. I think he also wants to get away from the scene. His lady friend broke up with him.”

“Ahhh... Was she an actress?”

“Yes. I heard they met on the set. They were quite a couple.”

“If he’s planning on getting away it must have been serious,” I commented.

“I guess. You know he never remarried after his wife passed away. I know your cousin and a couple of his friends are trying to get them back together again.”

“Really?”

“Yes. All his close friends thought they were a great couple,” he said.

Sarah asked about other famous people visiting the place, and we caught up with the latest news and gossip, but Hagop was being careful about what he told us, and Sarah was quick to realize he didn’t want to offend his regular clients. This place had become a sort of sanctuary, again, after the fad had died, and the so-called artists—new comers to the art and movie world—and the ‘richies’ moved on to other pastures. Now, it was only a handful of artists but mostly journalists and writers, and some middle class young couples who wanted to taste the authentic delicacies of Hagop’s kitchen.

When we were finishing our drinks, Hagop asked about our dessert order, before leaving the table. Sarah and Dana opted for some of the lighter sweets, and coffee while I asked for the baked honey-soaked bread served with clotted cream and a cup of mocca—another favorite.

“It’s quite sweet and heavy,” Dana observed.

“By the looks of things, I need to gather my energy,” I quipped.

“Oh, you poor man,” Dana teased.

“It’s one of my favorites, and with the cream it’s not that sweet,” I offered.

“I’m just surprised that you don’t seem to put on weight,” Dana commented.

“It’s something I got from Dad. He’s careful, and he has a high metabolism. He doesn’t exercise much; just takes long walks now and then. Like him, I burn whatever I eat. Besides, I exercise, especially when I’m on vacation. On the rig, the work keeps me in shape. Kathy, on the other hand, took after Ma.”

“I don’t think she’ll be putting on too much weight. If she doesn’t eat properly, she might even loose weight,” Sarah commented with a serious, almost concerned tone.

“Yeah. Mom is always worrying about her. She’s concerned that Kathy is too busy to take proper care of herself,” I concurred.

Sarah nodded with a cryptic smile, and I heard Dana laugh. When I turned to her, she was shaking her head at Sarah, and said, “You’re terrible, Sarah.”

Sarah shrugged nonchalantly, and flashed her a mischievous grin, eliciting another laugh.

Dana turned to me and said, “She meant exercise,” to clue me in.

Remembering my lecture to Kathy about exercising at the hospital, I said to Sarah, “So, she’s taken my advice and is exercising at the hospital.”

When she heard that, Sarah burst into laughter, leaving me completely befuddled, until it occurred to me what she really meant. “Mark,” I said, almost at the same time with Dana. Addressing both girls, I chided them. “Both of you are terrible. I thought men were bad, but now...”

“What! It’s the best kind of exercise,” Sarah retorted, with Dana nodding in amusement.

I raised my hands in surrender.

Luckily, Hagop came back with our desserts and cups of coffee, which put a stop to the back–and–forth, or so I thought. When I dug in to my dessert, savoring each bite, slowly, I heard titters from the girls.

“Now, what?” I responded with an exasperated tone, which earned me more titters.

Trying to soothe me, Dana patted my hand, and said, “It’s fascinating to see you savor and relish it the way you do.” Turning to Sarah, she continued with, “Eating habits tell a lot about a person. It’s no wonder he makes love the same way. Don’t you agree?”

“Indeed,” Sarah responded enthusiastically.

I decided to ignore the teasing, and instead concentrated on the delicious dessert, but neither of them let me have any peace. They were enjoying yanking my chain too much for that to happen.

“You know, we talked about waking up a sleeping lion, but if I remember correctly, lions don’t like to be interrupted when they are dining. I think he’s just a big docile cat,” Dana quipped.

“Or this is the calm before the storm,” Sarah responded, giving me an amused look, almost challenging me.

Taking a break from my dessert, I rose to the bait, and flashed an evil grin to her.

“Yes, it looks like we’re in for heavy storm, Dana,” she quipped.

To my surprise, Dana stole a hand to my thigh, and moved further down to check me out, discreetly. I hadn’t realized they were having an effect on me.

“I think you’re right,” she said. “There’s something brewing here... according to the weather forecast.”

Gently I grabbed her hand and removed it, before she could worsen my already deteriorating condition.

“You ladies seem to have had too much to drink.”

Ignoring my response, Dana turned to Sarah. “How are you feeling, Sarah?”

“Never felt better. As he said, the gas tank is full. What we need is an oil check,” Sarah replied, and gave her a wink.

“Yes, that’s what we need, but I don’t know how it’s done,” Dana returned, realizing where Sarah was going with her quip.

“Well, that’s why we have a man here. They know about such things. Mitch, what is it they use to check the oil?” Sarah asked innocently.

I couldn’t come up with a good response, so I offered a lame excuse—despite knowing that it wouldn’t stop them one bit! “I’m sorry. I know very little about cars.”

“If I remember correctly they call it a dipstick or something,” Dana responded—theatrically being helpful.

“But of course, a dipstick,” Sarah said, with a twinkle in her eyes.

“We might also need an oil change,” Dana added.

“Yes, of course. A good engine requires regular oil change,” Sarah came back.

I knew if I didn’t somehow intervene, they were going to be more than a handful, and that last quip gave me the opening to return fire. “I think you two should first make sure that there are no oil leaks, before concerning yourselves about oil change or anything else.”

Although it had the desired effect, it was short lived. They weren’t going to let anything stop them—let alone slow them down—from teasing me.

“If there are any leaks you can help spot them. Perhaps seal, or plug the leaks,” Dana returned, eliciting a giggle from Sarah who nodded enthusiastically.

To my dismay, I felt myself fluster with their incessant and blatantly off-color remarks. I gave up my efforts to eat my dessert, and pushed the plate away. Picking up my cup, I took a sip.

“Oh, honey. You need to finish it off. Hagop might take offense,” Dana said with an almost apologetic tone, and reaching across, she pushed the plate back in front of me. I was just starting to believe they were going to give me a break, when she quipped, “You also have your work cut out for you tonight, my dear,” giving me a remorseless grin.

I almost choked on the sip of coffee; Dana had to slap my back a few times, and apologized effusively, but I waved it away, telling her I was all right. After that little incident, they were more careful, and let me eat my dessert in relative peace—well, almost! They kept their teasing non-verbal, resorting to suggestive looks and smiles, and I was semi-hard from their attention. They looked lovely, and exuded a subtle sense of sexuality and desire. If I didn't know them so well, I wouldn't have sensed how horny and worked up they were. They seemed to switch the sexiness and desirability on and off, at will. It acted like a potent aphrodisiac. Reflecting on it, for the first time I managed to put into words my thoughts about women; they were fascinating creatures, but some were more than that, with a magical quality to them, and the two who were sitting at the table, were of the latter category.

For a short while I was quiet, letting them continue their game, engrossing myself in their lovely aurora, as I sipped my coffee. I lit a cigarette, and continued to savor the moment; I felt alive, the more I immersed myself in the moment, in the girls’ magic. I was almost tempted to let the moment continue, freeze the particular magic but... I knew it was to be savored for only so long. Otherwise, it would have been cheating, and carried past a point, the moment would have lost its magical quality. They must have sensed something because they grew quiet. There was the beginning of a faint tension, the anticipation for something to happen, and I knew I had to take advantage of it. With deliberate slowness, I took a sip of from my cup, put it down, and after taking a drag from my cigarette, I put it in the ashtray. When I felt I had their complete attention, I interlaced my fingers, and flexed them in and out, like a pianist; the sound of popping and cracking of joints clearly audible. Then I flexed my fingers separately, inspecting them as I would a new tool, before using it. Turning my gaze to them, I waited until I saw their expression changed to one of curiosity.

“Just checking my arsenal,” I said responding to their tacit question. “And getting ready to rock ‘n roll. If I remember correctly, I’m invited to a tango,” I quipped—issuing a challenge.

At first, they were quiet, exchanging looks as if they heard me wrong. When my meaning percolated through their surprise, they burst into laughter, the melodic sound washing over me, warming my insides. However, they were quick to bounce back from their surprise, and after sharing a long look, they opened up on me!

“Oh, boy. I think we’re in it, now,” Dana quipped.

“Nope, but he’ll probably be in us,” Sarah returned, and both of them let out another laugh.

“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about his fingers. He did say he was checking his arsenal,” Dana reminded, at which point I flashed an evil grin.

“We can always fake an orgasm or a fainting spell,” Sarah retorted.

“And what if I continue, thinking you’re faking it?” I asked.

Sarah had an expression of horror, and Dana looked scared, too, but I knew they were play-acting. Turning to Sarah, Dana said, “You know, he’s just playing with us. This is just a warm up, and if we let him continue, we’ll be in serious trouble. Let’s equalize the playing field, and get him to the club. There, we can soften him up.”

“Do we really want him soft?” Sarah asked pointedly.

Before Dana could respond, I cut in with, “The playing field is unequal as it is. Besides, I have the usual short-comings like any other male.”

Reaching down under the table, Dana retorted, “I wouldn’t call this a short-coming,” and emphasized it by gently rubbing my hard-on. Then stopping her ministrations, she took my hand, and kissed the back of my fingers. “And these are lethal. They melt us, and kill us gently.”

“Yes, they do,” Sarah concurred. “I think the French got it right, calling it little death. He manages to kill us time after time, and yet, complains about inequality.”

“Why shouldn’t I? Now, I have to contend with performance anxiety, too, after your compliments,” I said with a very concerned tone. If they didn’t know me, they would have bought it—perhaps.

“That should be the least of your worries,” Dana retorted.

“It is,” I responded, flashing another evil grin at them.

“I told you he’s playing with us,” Dana remarked to Sarah, who nodded in agreement.

“Let’s get freshened up,” Sarah suggested with a quick wink to Dana.

“You mean, ‘let’s plot Mitch’s downfall?’” I quipped.

“It’s already decided. We just need to figure out the details,” Dana replied. With an amused twinkle in her eyes, she added, “And, down isn’t what we have in mind,” before standing up. Sarah followed suit.

“Don’t run away, otherwise you’ll incur penalties,” Sarah warned me.

“I’m already a slave to your whims and desires. Why should I run away?”

Leaning down, Dana gave a fleeting kiss, and brushed my cheek lovingly with her fingertips, before they left the table. There was a pronounced swing to their hips, as they walked to the facilities. They knew I would be watching them. They must have been very sure of themselves, because they didn’t even bother to look over their shoulders to see if I was. When I managed to spare a moment from the enthralling display, I noticed I wasn’t the only one who was watching their departure.

I finished the last of my coffee, and took my cigarette from the ashtray. As I scanned the room, I saw Felix and Siran watching me. Siran leaned and told him something. After a slight hesitation, Felix raised his glass discreetly, as if wishing me luck or saluting me, and Siran smiled. I suspected both of them must have witnessed the recent laughter at our table, and how the girls made their departure right after that. I returned a slight nod in acknowledgment, and they returned to their conversation. By the time I finished my cigarette, the girls returned. Dana moved to take Sarah’s chair, while Sarah moved to take Dana’s, next to me. I was wondering about the seating arrangement, when Sarah leaned and whispered, “Just a temporary changing of the guard.”

“Switching to tag team tactics?” I retorted.

“Something like that,” she replied. Giving me a soft kiss on my neck that made me shiver, she sat back.

I saw Dana check her watch and directed a questioning look, but she shrugged it off. Instead, she said, “We are going to a club I frequent now and then. They have good service, nice music, and we can also dance. As Sarah suggested, it’s not a discotheque.”

“How far is it?” I asked.

“It’s near the town center, where we were shopping today.”

“Shall I ask for the tab?”

When they both nodded, indicating they were ready, I looked around for Hagop, but he was nowhere to be seen. Then, I caught Siran’s eye, and a few minutes later, she excused herself, and came to our table.

“Are you leaving?” she asked. When I nodded, she made a quick scan of our table, and noticed our empty cups. “I’ll bring your tab. Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Thank you, Siran. Everything was perfect. We had a great time,” I said.

Dana and Sarah extended their thanks, and told her how much they enjoyed the dinner and the atmosphere.

Some ten minutes or so later, Siran returned with a small wooden box, and left it at the table, telling us that Hagop and she would be joining us in a short while for a night cap, and also asked if we would need a cab. When I told her we would need one, she left us again. I checked the tab, and to my dismay I discovered Hagop had charged us discounted prices on everything—not only for the fish. With a resigned sigh at his antics, I tried to recalculate everything, and then left more than a generous amount, before putting the box aside.

Dana looked like she wanted to ask something, but was hesitating. When I tilted my head, prompting her, she asked, “Is something wrong?” glancing at the box.

“Nope. Hagop outdid himself again. He loves to make my life difficult, and confuse me.”

“Confuse you?”

“He charged way below his usual prices. Everything.”

“He did not!” Dana exclaimed.

When I nodded, she said, “I guess, they really want to see you back.”

“I guess.”

I saw Hagop and Siran coming; Siran was carrying a tray with small shot glasses. After she served the glasses, Hagop seated Siran next to me. Then he pulled up a chair and sat next to Dana across from us.

“It was nice to see you, again, Mitch, but this was too short, so it doesn’t count,” Hagop said. Turning to Dana, and Sarah, he added, “We’d also like to see you again, and please, sooner than later.”

“I would, but only if you play fair, Hagop,” I responded pointedly, but both Hagop and Siran acted as if they didn’t hear me.

“Don’t disappear like you did, Mitch. We missed you,” Siran followed up.

I knew they took pride in their hospitality, and it would have been futile if not down-right impolite to mention the subject—the questionable amount on my tab—again. “I won’t make a promise, but I’ll do my best, Siran. It was good to be back here. Thank you,” I replied. I felt sincerely welcome here, and I really missed them.

“Please, if he forgets, you’ll remember to bring him, won’t you?” Siran urged Dana and Sarah. “We’d love to see you, again.”

Dana responded with a sympathetic smile, and said, “We will. We had a great time, and we enjoyed your hospitality very much. Thank you, Siran... Hagop.”

“Thank you,” Sarah repeated, giving them a dazzling smile of appreciation.

Hagop picked up his glass, and offered a toast for good times, and we followed his example. I was watching the girls when they took their sip of the liqueur. As I expected their expression change to one of pleasant surprise.

“It’s something special from Hagop and Siran,” I offered.

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

“It’s a family secret,” Hagop replied. “The only liqueur we were able to get Mitch to drink.” When Sarah looked puzzled, he elaborated. “He finds most liqueurs too sweet.”

“He’s right, they are. I like this,” Dana commented, with Sarah nodding in agreement.

Before we could continue further, we heard the sound of a horn.

“That must be the cab. He’s early,” Hagop said, as he stood up.

“No need to hurry. I’ll hold him. You help the ladies with their coats,” Siran addressed Hagop, and left the table.

We all stood up, and I helped Sarah with her coat, while Hagop helped Dana. I collected our purchases, and after we exchanged a quick goodbye with Felix, we walked to the door, where Siran was waiting for us. The cabbie had the engine off, so we took our time with our goodbye. Siran and Hagop hugged each one of us—I got smooched on both cheeks by both of them—and they repeated their invitation, again, before we got into the taxi.

As the cabbie turned into the boulevard, Dana gave the address for our destination. For a short while, the girls talked about Hagop and Siran, how friendly they were, and asked me a few questions about them. After that they snuggled up to me for a quiet ride to the club. When we neared the shopping center, the cabbie had to take the side streets, because the main street was closed to all traffic except the trams. Finally, we arrived at our destination, and he pulled in to the curb, in front of the club. There was a big neon sign announcing the name of the club, below which stood a big, swinging door, with shiny brass designs on it, and a big glass pane. A bouncer—dressed in a suit—stood in front of the door with his arms crossed. Seeing us, he gave a quick nod, and a polite smile, before he opened the door to let us in.

 

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