The Offer

Erika stood on the corner of Central and 10th Street in her new black jacket with all fastenings closed. It was light on her body and together with a blackberry coloured cashmere v-necked sweater, black leather gloves, grey woollen scarf, and her long black shiny boots under a longish A line black woollen skirt, she was warm and comfortable, in spite of the frigid conditions. She had dressed with care and in a way that she anticipated would please her luncheon companion.

Erica was a little early for David. He had told her to be waiting for him at 1.00 but it was only 12.55. She did not want to keep him waiting. She knew that he was meticulous about time and claimed that he was never late for appointments. She did not see him approach her moments later. She felt a hand on her arm first and when she saw that it was him, she gave him a warm smile. She anticipated a kiss and an embrace but instead he kissed her on the side of her neck, and merely said, “Let’s go.”.

She walked beside him and as she did she was aware of a slight nervousness. It made no sense. She had been sleeping with him for months and willingly accepted his directions to do things she had no idea about before she had met him. She had been a willing participant in her own depraved demise, time and time again, and yet walking along this crowded street beside him fully clothed, she felt that she could not get enough air. She wanted to take off her scarf but was worried that it would look strange on such a cold day. She kept her mouth open a little trying to inhale some extra oxygen; trying to take charge of her irregular breathing. She felt a passion for him that was overtaking her.

He took her hand in his. They walked in silence, though he turned and glanced at her a few times, studying her. When they reached ‘Bistro Thierry’ he stopped, so abruptly that she had already taken a step beyond him and needed to backtrack. He held the door open for her and had her walk ahead of him until they reached the waiter a few steps into the restaurant who enquired if they were here for lunch. She undid her jacket and he took off his coat. The waiter hung them on hooks to the side.

He escorted them to a table beside other patrons but David said that he preferred a table on the other side of the room. The area was not occupied at all. The waiter demurred to his preference, a little peeved, and it was David who held her chair for her as she sat down. He asked for a menu right away and asked the waiter to wait for their order. He glanced at it quickly and told him that they would both have the minestrone soup and a glass of pinot noir. That was all.

With the food ordering out of the way, he turned to her and looked at her closely.

“You look beautiful. The colour of your sweater looks wonderful against your pale skin.”

“Thank you, David.”

He complimented her openly when he approved of her choices and she knew from experience that if he had not liked it, no compliment would have been forthcoming.

She sometimes found it hard to look into his watery blue eyes and she looked at him for a moment when he said those words but then looked away as soon as she responded. She was suddenly shy, as if she hardly knew him at all. He continued to look at her and after a few seconds she looked back at him, into his searching eyes.

“What you want and need, darling, it goes beyond my bedroom now. Your needs have filtered through to all your waking hours. I am aware of this. I have brought you here today to make you an offer. But I must warn you that it is not negotiable. My terms are my terms and you must listen carefully.”

“Yes,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Now...”

“Yes,” she repeated again, slightly louder this time.

“But...”

“It doesn’t matter what your terms are. I accept.”

His expression was one of incredulity. Had he known before he had even sat down that she was the girl for him for the rest of his days? Had she simply just confirmed what he had already known?

The waiter arrived with the wine and he gestured to her to raise her glass. They toasted the agreement, sight unseen. There was nothing that she wouldn’t do for him. There was nothing that he would not do to protect her.

© Vesta
January, 2010