Comfortably Cool

A woman experiences a romantic evening with an eccentric man.

 

She shivered against the night air wrapped in his designer tuxedo jacket. He had held out the promise of exceptionally dry martinis and the best view in the city. So far he had delivered on half. The view was spectacular.

 

Although she had just met him tonight, she had already allowed herself to fantasize about dates, relationships and even matrimony. She knew it was ridiculous, since she had met him only a few hours before, but he had already passed a few of her secret tests. He was impeccably dressed and well groomed. Handsome, but not in an overtly obvious sort of way. He was interesting on many different levels: music, art, travel, career. He played the saxophone and spoke Russian.

 

However, it was the fact that she had to draw each of his accomplishments from him that impressed her the most. He volunteered nothing. As he walked out onto the balcony of his duplex condominium, she felt a flutter in her stomach caused by the slightest bit of hope. In one hand he was carrying a tray with two martinis; in the other was a plush blanket.

 

“Well, there you are, beautiful. It’s a bit chilly. I have brandy inside if you’d prefer.” He said as he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

 

“I’m not letting you off the hook that easily. You gave your word that you would deliver to me an exquisite martini and I intend to put that to the test.” He responded with a wry smile and extended the glass. Sublimely confident and comfortably cool.

 

She drew in a sip between her full red lips intentionally leaving a perfect red lip print on the rim of the glass. “This may be the best dry martini in the world.”

 

She thought for a second that his face twisted slightly in the way that it would had he stepped on a tack. She let it pass. Possibly a nervous tick.

 

“But of course you couldn’t possibly know that.” He said.

 

“Pardon? Know what?”

 

“That it’s the best martini in the world.” She was confused. “I mean you would have to have sampled every martini and of course there are different types. A lot of it would depend on personal taste.”

 

Humor. She laughed. “Oh my word, Mason. You are drier than this drink.”

 

Sinatra was being piped onto the balcony from invisible speakers. The martini was relaxing her quite a bit. She had worn her hair up for the fund raiser. With a single move it fell in long full golden locks about her shoulders. It was a daring move for her, but she was emboldened by the chemistry that she was feeling with Mason.

 

“I haven’t listened to Sinatra in a hundred years. My nanny used to play his records when my parents were out.”

 

“Now, this I really can’t believe.”

 

Confused again, she responded, “What do you mean?”

 

“I know that you aren’t more than a hundred years old. You said your nanny played Sinatra, which would mean that if that was the last time you heard him, you were a child. In the same breath you said that you hadn’t heard his music in a hundred years.” He studied her face, “With the information that you’ve provided I would wager that you’ve heard Sinatra in the past two decades, give or take a few years.”

 

She laughed again although it was somewhat nervous this time. “Mason, I know we’re just getting to know each other so I don’t want to rush things. Let’s just enjoy the view.”

 

He slid in closer and wrapped his arms around her from behind. The city was amazing, but it was the stars and the moon that caught her eye. She picked up her glass and took a sip carefully matching her lips to the previous imprint. She had heard that one lip imprint was sensuous, but two was tacky.

 

“Mmmm. There must be a million stars out tonight.”

 

She felt Mason stiffen then abruptly pull away from her. His right hand enclosed on the rim of the glass as he firmly pulled it from her hand.

 

“I think that it’s time for you to go.” He said coldly.

 

“Mason, darling, I don’t understand.”

 

“No, well let me explain it to you, madam. First you come in here and make a wild claim about martinis. I let that one go, because I thought you were nervous. Then you try to convince me that you are over a hundred, like that’s supposed to impress me. I can clearly see you are in your late twenties. Possibly thirty if you've taken good care of yourself. Now, you demonstrate that you clearly have no understanding of astronomy.”

 

She was horrified, “Astronomy. I don’t…”

 

“Know the first thing about it? That’s obvious. No one knows exactly how many stars there are, but it’s preposterous to think that it’s an exact number like a million. Even if it were, did you ever think of how a million stars would illuminate the sky? We would have constant light and never be able to sleep.” His voice softened just a bit, “This has been a trying evening, please, please, just leave. I will have the doorman summon you a taxi. I need to go on my computer and fact check some things that you told me earlier.”

 

What could she do? This was humiliating. She let the blanket drop to the floor and stormed out of the penthouse duplex. Tears began to run down her face.

 

When the doorman saw her disheveled state, he handed her a handkerchief. As she was dabbing at her face, she said, “Do you know Mason Masterson on the penthouse?”

 

“Of course, Ma’am”

 

“Would you give him something for me?”

 

“That would depend on what it is.” She assumed that he had dealt with angry women before so she tried to manage a smile.

 

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just want to leave him my number and e-mail address in case he wants to get a hold of me.”

 

She wasn’t going to let the perfect man slip through her fingers, just because of one minor idiosyncrasy.

 

“Do you want me to call you a cab. It’s raining?”

 

“You know, I just feel like walking. Could you, please, make sure that he gets that.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” He pocketed the number and the substantial tip.

 

As she walked into the street and looked up at the balcony, a smile came over her beautiful face. She was in love.

 

 

 

Author's Note

I wrote this for a contest. The requirement was that it was to be completed in less than an hour. I was working when I wrote this, but I think it came in under 45 minutes. Obviously, because of the short time there was not enough time for proper grammar and spelling checks.

Reviews

[None]

You should enter more of these timed contests. You did a remarkable job here by telling a great story and left the reader wondering, wanting more. I laughed out loud at the ending wondering where this girl's head was at. You covered all the bases with this detailed story and left yourself wide open for a sequel as well. Great writing!

[None]

Good to see you received an award for your story. I was hoping you would. You had my vote!

[Rain]

Perfect short story, with some clever lines. Women are always attracted to to the non-hustler. The best hustle...is no hustle. Nice write.

[BrightEyes]

I enjoyed the ending here; and while I get the absolute wonder at what this girl could be thinking from some, it is the mystery and intrigue he creates with such off the wall reactions I think that grabs her attention. reminds me of someone who likes a challenge. making my sympathy take a turn for our dear man here, however eccentric he may be lol though you have left us hanging a bit here; that is alright too - it allows our imaginations to fill in the blanks and leaves yours to perhaps travel back here later on :)

[Jet Lag]

Awesome read.

Love the details, like this:
--She picked up her glass and took a sip carefully matching her lips to the previous imprint. She had heard that one lip imprint was sensuous, but two was tacky.

This is a chick who'd getting her life and love advice from the magazine Seventeen and romance novels, and he's such a pragmatic.

Well written, even with a few typos. (45 minutes is quick to write, agreed.)

Enjoyed it and will read more.

[Here's What I Say]

...........Oh my God. I think you summed up in one story the absurdity of girls falling in love with impossibly irresistible and unavailable men...not that I know that from experience, why do you ask?

He's perfect. In the sense that she's everything she's ever wanted. If you find the "perfect" man in one date, one of these two is the case: 1) You've truly met a person who meets your physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual needs and by the grace of God, karma, or whatever higher power is out there, something inside of you is well aware to the point where you consciously know it, or 2) You're shallow as f**k. I'll let you gander a guess as to which one I think she is.

There were a few points where I didn't know who was speaking (like when Mason calls her out on her exagerrations about martinis and the stars) and for a second, I thought it was HIM who was saying that he was a hundred years old (making me think that possibly there's something supernatural going on? The only thing that is super is his absent-mindedness).

I hope she has a nice walk in the rain; she might slip, fall and maybe meet a guy who's willing to take her at her lowest point.

[Flame DM]

o.O that was not the ending i expected but again, this is better. your characters are real and i felt like strangling Mason at one point, no lie. Love it when i get involved that way, how writers can do that to your mindframe like that. I hope you write more on this lady...and i hope she realises that Mason has no common sense at all.

Excellent write!

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