Page 20 of The Facilitator: Part 3
I waited until she sipped. “Tell me what you taste,” I asked.
The barman watched us. “Ma’am, if you need me, I’ll just be here,” he said, and I smiled at him. I was impressed with his concern and also impressed that he genuinely thought we’d just met.
“It’s sweet and spicy at the same time,” she said, and I actually couldn’t remember what she’d said at the time, but I thought it was close.
“What else?”
“Smooth, like you,” she said, licking the whiskey from her lower lip. I stared at that lip.
“It’s a fine whiskey, one of my favorites,” I said. “So, why are you sitting her all alone?” I asked.
“I’ve been stood up. I was meeting someone off Tinder. I guess they lied when they said they could afford to take me to The Berkeley,” she said, making a sad face.
“Then I’m glad I can, and I’m here,” I replied, leaning a little closer to her.
“Mackenzie Miller,” I offered. “And you are?”
“Lauren Miller. How funny that we share the same surname,” she said, with her eyes wide.
“I wonder what other things we share. Perhaps the same tastes in the bedroom,” I whispered.
“Well, I have no idea what you mean, Mr. Miller.” She sat back a little and raised her glass to her lips.
“Are you happily married?” I asked, staring at the rings on her finger.
“Absolutely, Mr. Miller.”
“I’m glad to hear that. However, perhaps you’d do me the honor and dine with me tonight.”
“I’m not sure what my husband would think,” she said, looking shocked.
“You could always ask him,” I said, I slid my cell toward her.
She picked it up and then my hand. She needed my thumb to access it. Static coursed over my skin as she held my thumb to the phone. She scrolled. Typed a message and then rifled in her bag for her own cell.
“I have a hall pass, Mr. Miller,” she said, and I chuckled. “Although only for you, onlyeverfor you.”
By now the barman understood, he chuckled as he dried the glass and I gave him a wink.
“Would you like to take my arm, Mrs. Miller?” I asked, standing and putting on my jacket. I then held out my arm.
“I’d be delighted to, Mr. Miller,” she said, giggling, and I kissed her temple.
She took my arm and we walked to the dining room. She paused at the doorway and looked at me.
“Oh my God, it’s the anniversary of when we met, isn’t it?” she asked.
I smiled and nodded my head, not confessing I’d only remembered myself earlier that day. She laughed. “Then I hope you have a wonderful evening planned for us,” she added.
“I certainly do, Mrs. Miller.”
Dinner was outstanding, as usual. I could always rely on The Berkeley for something special but we rushed through, both eager to see what the rest of the evening held.
I took her hand and led her to the elevator. She leaned close to me. “I’ve always wanted to do a lift scene,” she said, laughing. As the doors opened and a porter welcomed us in, she sighed.
We stood behind the porter and I placed her in front of me. I ran my hand over her ass, lifting her dress and reaching under. She tried to wiggle away, I held her steady.
“You always wanted to do this,” I whispered.
