Page 61 of His Wife

“It means no ice.”

“Oh right,” said the barmaid. “Why didn’t you just say that then? There’s no need to be fancy around here. Look around you. The only thing fancy about this place is you, and that’s not a compliment. That’s just to say that this place is an absolute shit hole.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Lisa uttered under her breath.

“Like everyman I ever fucked used to say,” said the barmaid, “if you lower your expectations love, you won’t be disappointed.”

“Right,” said Lisa. “Thanks for the advice. Can I order a double please?”

“Coming right up your highness.”

The barmaid proceeded to pour the drink and placed it in front of Lisa. “That’ll be $4.75.”

“Can I open a tab?” said Lisa.

“Sorry, don’t do tabs. Not anymore.”

“Do you take cards?”

“Not unless you are spending more that ten bucks at a time.”

“Okay. Is there a cash machine around here?” asked Lisa.

“There’s one next to the slot machine by the door but it charges,” said the barmaid.

“Of course it does,” said Lisa under her breath as she rose to her feet. “I’ll be back.”

“So you still want the whiskey?” asked the barmaid.

“Yes,” Lisa replied. “In fact, make it two double whiskeys and I’ll be back to pay for the drinks in two minutes.”

*

Lisa returned to the bar to find that a handsome silver-fox in a leather smoking jacket and a thick Irish accent had taken her seat and had helped himself to one of her drinks.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “Whiskey happens to be my favourite. And, yes, I am the stereotypical Irishman.” He grinned, revealing boyish dimples. Despite his finely lined face and grey hair, he obviously still knew how to charm the fairer sex with his nonchalant attitude and boy-band smile.

If Lisa wasn’t so attracted to both his looks and his cocky personality, she’d be offended. Instead she took a seat next to him at the bar and began to nurse the second glass of whiskey.

“You owe me a drink,” she said as she sipped.

“No,” said the Irishman. “I paid for these so I believe that you owe me a drink.”

“It looks like I do," said Lisa, in the most seductive voice she could muster.

“So, what’s a single girl like you doing in a place like this?” the Irishman asked.

“What makes you think that I’m single?” She batted her eyes as she sipped on her drink once more.

“No wedding ring. No light line on your finger. So you are not recently divorced.” He looked her up and down, like a cop would a potential suspect.

Lisa liked this. In fact, she liked it more that she thought she would. In both life and love she had always been the dominant one, always the one in control but as she got older, wiser, richer, all she wanted was for a man to take control. Could he be the one to take her to places that she had never been?

“If I had to guess,” he continued, “I’d say, judging by the fancy clothes, the fact that you don’t often go places with minimum card payment and, of course, that great set of wheels outside… I’d say that you were one of those career women who spent her twenties and thirties building a great career.” He downed his drink and signaled the barmaid for another.

When he could see that his signal had been noted, he turned back to Lisa. His eyes crinkled, smiling. “If I had to guess, I’d say you work with money, lots of it, and it’s your job to spend it. Life’s been good, but now you’re worried that love has passed you by.”

The barmaid placed another double in front of the Irishman. “I’ll put this one on your tab,” she said before giving Lisa a look that said, “We look after our own around here. We don’t like outsiders.”

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