Tears on a Sunday Afternoon - Michael Presley [9]
Julie came over and placed her hand over my head. She took my head and leaned it against her side. I wrapped my arm around her waist. For the first time that day, I felt at peace. I was secure in the arms of my best friend.
Chapter 3
The Brooklyn Marriott was located on Adam Street, a block away from the Brooklyn Bridge. I drove down Atlantic Avenue and turned onto Adam. Taking the local road, I made a right into the underground parking garage. The attendant stopped my car and came over to make his inspection. He asked me to open the trunk and he quickly looked inside. He glanced in the back seat as if expecting to see a big timer with a “BOMB” label. I took the ticket from him and parked my car.
The escalator ascended to the second floor where I made a left into the main dining room. The hostess, a young woman in her early twenties, looked at me as if she was about to have her favorite dessert. She pushed her chest out a little further than necessary, making sure I saw her hard nipples tight against her white shirt.
“Good evening, Sir. Will you be dining by yourself this evening?” she asked as if making a wish.
“Donald, I see you made it on time.”
I turned around to see Donna in tight, dirty jeans, which from the front promised a lot behind. She had no need to push out her chest because her breasts made their own voluptuous statement.
She slipped her hand around my waist, reached up and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
I turned back around to the hostess. Her chest had become flat and the smile she had greeted me with earlier had disappeared.
“Table for two?” she asked.
I nodded in agreement.
“Follow me.” She picked up two menus and walked away.
I followed her, knowing that pairs of eyes would be dissecting us as we walked to the table.
“Will this table be good for you?” the hostess asked. Her name tag said Lisa.
“Thank you, Lisa; this will be fine,” I replied.
The earlier smile that had disappeared when Donna walked in came back with a vengeance. “Your waiter will be over shortly. Feel free to come over and ask me anything you want to know about our hotel. We’re presently offering a twenty percent discount on rooms for corporate accounts.” She walked away, putting as much swing as possible into her pancake butt.
“Why didn’t she just give you the keys to the room?” Donna stated with sarcasm.
“A little jealous?” I joked.
“Jealous, not really,” she said, taking the menu and opening it up.
“Good afternoon, Sir, Madam.” The waiter was a middle-aged white man with a deep, Russian accent. “Can I get you something to drink while you peruse the menu?”
“No, thank you. We’ll order in a minute,” I said.
“Where do they get these people from? We haven’t sat down a minute and they’re in your face. Didn’t he see us looking at the menus?” Donna said, sounding exasperated.
“We’re obviously not at the Waldorf in Manhattan,” I answered, noticing the waiter standing a few feet away staring at me.
“Should we drink the water and leave?” Donna asked, returning the waiter’s penetrating gaze. “Or should I order the chicken sandwich? It looks delicious.”
“I’ve had it before. It’s very good. Today I think I’ll have the salmon sandwich. It’s difficult to mess up salmon.” I closed the menu.
“You obviously haven’t been to Fish and Things on Jessup Avenue. I had the worst salmon in my life there,” she replied, putting down her menu.
I lifted my right hand up and the waiter hurried over. I placed the order for both of us, repeating it twice as the waiter fumbled with his pen.
“What’s the occasion? This isn’t our usual meeting place,” I said, as our eyes connected.
I had fucked Donna four more times since our initial encounter in the office. Unlike the first encounter, those sessions were long and exciting. I had put in some wonderful work on that woman.
“It’s time,” she said.
The waiter had remembered and placed the correct dishes