by Lilah May
These guys never stop working, bustling from one steel structure to another like bees in suits buzzing back and forth in their steel hive.
The building I stop in front of looks like every other office building with no sign for the restaurant. I like it that way. The only words on the outside of the building is Dover Tower.
Inside, next to the elevators, the directory lists advertising agencies, investment companies, law firms, and on the thirty sixth floor there is one name that stands out in scrawling cursive.
Anything Goes.
Instead of stepping off the elevator into a maze of cubicles, we walk into a brightly lit store with aisles of fresh produce, fancy cheeses, expensive looking wines, all sizes and shapes of pasta, and every other food item you can think of.
Basically a Whole Foods, but smaller and without the hipster element, meaning it’s much more elegant.
“Why did you bring me to a grocery store?” she looks around, taking it in. “Do you want me to cook for you?”
“While no one can beat your cooking, tonight you won’t be doing any work.”
Other than a few well-dressed couples like us, the place is empty, no frantic moms with wild kids, no hipsters with beards and dirty dreadlocks. Just dresses and suits.
No cashiers either, just men in white tuxedos. One of them approaches us.
“If you don’t shop here, what do you do?” she’s still utterly perplexed.
“You eat,” the man walking up to us answers for me. “Hello, sir. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Hey, Jeeves. Nice to see you too. Looking sharp as always.”
“I might say the same to you.” He inclines his head. “And your lady friend looks lovely as well.”
“She’s not my lady friend. She’s my mother.” Lisa looks at me surprised but goes along with it.
“Mrs. Carter! I’m so sorry. You look so young. What a pleasure to finally meet you. Your son practically keeps us in business.”
“He comes here that often?” She looks a bit disappointed.
“Yes, but mostly alone and looking as if he’s starved himself for a week straight.” Jeeves responds. Her face brightens immediately. Oh, she thinks I bring girls here, which I do. Jeeves is one slick motherfucker.
“If he came home more often, maybe I could have fed him,” Lisa complains.
“Next time, I shall shoo him away and send him packing home to you, madam.”
“Thank you, Jeeves. I’m glad you’re on my side,” Lisa sticks her tongue out at me.
“Always.” Jeeves bows and backs away.
“So where’s the food?”
“You’re looking at it. First, we have to choose our ingredients.” I lead her to the first aisle, full of the ripest looking fruits and the greenest looking vegetables, not one of them bruised, mottled or bug-eaten.
“What would you like for dinner?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just pick a few of your favorite things. Whatever catches your eye.”
She follows along, even though she looks a bit doubtful.
“I’ve always had a weakness for broccoli rabe.”
“Eccentric. I like it. This one, please, Jeeves.” He types something in the tablet he’s pulled out magically from his person. “OK. Moving on.”
For the next few minutes, she picks and chooses her favorite things, some of which also happen to be my favorite things, as we go up and down the aisles. Some colorful bell peppers, baby spinach, pink lady apples, Gruyere cheese, an aged Parmesan, angel hair pasta, walnuts, an old Riesling, a well marbled filet mignon – I could live off of steak — mint chocolate chip ice cream and finally, curiously, gummy bears.
“Finished?” Jeeves asks, glancing from his tablet.
“Yup. I think so. Even though I have no idea what’s going on.”
“Then, I shall submit your order.” Jeeves disappears.
“Thank you, Jeeves.” I call out after him.
In the far corner of the store, tucked away behind a set of double glass doors is a dimly lit restaurant. Two of the four walls are completely glass, the colors of the city lights pouring in, brighter than the muted lighting in the restaurant itself. I lead her right next to the window, if you can call a glass wall a window.
“Wow, this is the best view I’ve ever seen of the city without waiting in a line for hours and being jostled by hundreds of tourists.” The brilliant array of colors reflecting off her face make her pale skin look iridescent.
“I thought you’d like it. From now on, I’ll make sure I show you so many more beautiful views all over the world.”
“Save that for your girlfriend. Hey, I wanted to ask, Is that guy’s name really Jeeves or did you just call him that?”
“Wow, if I just called him that, wouldn’t that make me some sort of rich snobbish asshole?”
“Who says you aren’t one already?”
“Ouch. That hurt. Especially coming from you.” I pretend as if an arrow has struck my chest. “What would you do if that wasn’t his name?”
“I’d give you a smack on the back of the head.”
“See, that’s why I love you. You’re the only one who would. Well, you’re gonna have to save that smack for later because that’s actually his name.”
“Wow! It’s like he was born for this job.”
“Hey, don’t limit his career options just because of his name.” I tease her.
“Yea, I guess that was a bad joke.”
“No, but seriously, his parents screwed him over on that one.” And we both laugh. I love listening to her laugh, seeing her face light up with happiness. It makes me feel so satisfied to be able to make her happy at last.
“Sir, are you poking fun at my name again?” Jeeves sneaks up on us, bottle in hand. “I’m glad I can serve as a talking point.”
“I’m sorry, Jeeves. It was my fault.” Lisa admits, taking the blame.
“Madam, you can say whatever you want about my name, and it will only fill me with delight.” He pours the wine into the glasses. “But, you sir, on the other hand, you are only permitted to make one joke per evening about my name.”
“It was only one! I swear! Not one more peep from me tonight about your name.”
“Remember, I am a butler. I hear everything.” He smiles and bows before walking away.
“You better make sure you tip him well, cause he’s funny!” Lisa is cracking up.
“He really is the best. I’ve already decided when I have a family, I’m going to take him away from here.” I’m glad she likes him, because the family I’m planning is with her.
CHAPTER 14
LISA
He said when he has a family. Does he have a girl in mind already? What would it be like to have a family with him?
He would make a great father. So caring and attentive, yet firm and strict when he needs to be. Why am I thinking about having a family with him? I’m almost 40 for crying out loud. He has plenty of time to find a girl he wants to marry.
“So, now what?” I try to distract myself from my wishful thinking.
“Now, we wait for the chefs to make our meal.”
“Ohhhh! Wow, I’m slow. I should’ve guessed that. It’s like a Chopped! Restaurant. I love Chopped! We used to watch that together!”
“Yup, but this time we’re the judges.”
“Oh, crap. The gummy bears. I did that asshole thing in the show where they put like, sour straws or a lollipop in the basket.”
“That’s the fun part! At least gummy bears isn’t that bad. Remember the one with grasshoppers? Or rattlesnake meat?”
“Oh my god, I remember that. Yuck. One of the chefs almost threw up on their grasshoppers.” I fake a dry heave.
“Who knows? It might’ve made it taste better,” he jokes. We both chuckle. It’s so easy to laugh around him. I know it wasn’t that funny, but the laughter seems to just bubble up out of me. I’m so relaxed with him, so comfortable.
“Cheers to the beginning
of an amazing night out with an even more amazing woman.” He smiles that cheery smile of his that seems to wash away my worries, setting me at ease even though it’s my first time in such a fancy place. I realize I’ve been staring at him and look away, burying my embarrassment in my cup of wine.
In one sip, crisp flavors of peaches and pears flood my mouth and floral aromas drift up from the glass, completing the honeycomb like combination. I can’t help but moan, the depth of the wine so perfectly palatable to my taste.
“This wine you picked is delicious. Not just your dress but even your taste is elegant.”
“Stop it. The dress looks better than I do.”
“The dress is only as beautiful as the woman who wears it.” His eyes look solemn as if he truly believes it.
“And I picked the wine at random! The bottle just looked cool with it’s gold label. I bet every wine out there tastes good. How did you even find this place? How does this place even exist?” It has to cost more than a thousand dollars just to sit down. All those ingredients would definitely go to waste with the few customers here.
“All the produce and dairy that’s unbought is given to soup kitchens at the end of the day. Essentially, we’re donating to charity by eating here. So don’t feel bad and enjoy.”
“How do you always seem to know what I’m thinking?” This time I ask him.
“Because I know you. I know who you are. You wanted to find out who you are but I already know. And I’ll show you tonight.” Before I can ask what he means, the butler comes with our food, the enticing aroma making me forget all about what he said.
The courses come one after another, and as soon as I’m finished with one, the butler is there with the next. Bobby must’ve told them how hungry I was because I unceremoniously devour every dish before he’s done with half.
First is a salad made of bell peppers, baby spinach, sliced walnuts, and apple cubes with parmesan sprinkled on top, the dressing a sweet vinaigrette derived from gummy bears.
The main course is filet mignon stuffed with Gruyere cheese and angel hair pasta with an assortment of colorful peppers and spinach topped with creamy alfredo sauce made from both the Gruyere and paparmesan.
Dessert is the mint chocolate chip ice cream but with melted gummy bears swirled in.
“Wow, that was amazing.” I lean back, hands on my ready-to-burst stomach.
“You picked great ingredients. I’m sure it wasn’t much of a challenge for them to cook it up. Sometimes I come in here and pick the weirdest things like bleu cheese, a Snickers, and kale just to mess with them,” he chuckles at his own antics.
Suddenly, I realize I might not be the only one he brought here. He must bring all his girlfriends here. Wait, why do I care? It’s not like we’re on a date.
I just got caught up by the romantic atmosphere, the dim lighting — just a flickering candle between us — and hushed voices from the other couples.
He’s a rich young bachelor and hot to boot. He’s doing me a favor taking me out like this. As family. We’re just family.
“Next time some rich hunk takes me here, I’ll keep that in mind,” I say sarcastically. Why am I being ungrateful? Am I jealous?
“Anytime you want to come back, you can be my date.” He ignores my jab.
Wait a minute, did he just say date? Is this a date? I almost blush before I catch myself.
How the hell does he always make me feel like a giggling schoolgirl? I’m almost 40 for Christ’s sake, but being with Bobby makes me feel like a teenager all over again.
CHAPTER 15
BOBBY
When we descend, my Corvette is waiting for me in front of the building, engine purring. Part of our app services includes a valet so there is never a waiting period — it would break the flow of the night. With your car waiting for you, or a limo if you prefer, your experience can be seamless.
Sometimes people forget how much effort it takes to make a night out perfect. I check my phone quickly and sure enough Vinny has done everything I asked, including the new tiny modification to our date night that I thought up of before we got to the restaurant.
Everything is ready.
“Now what?” She asks as I roar down the city streets, weaving through traffic.
“Now we need to digest.”
“Some plush couches and coffee?” she suggests.
“I was thinking the complete opposite.”
“Oh, no. Don’t forget I’m 40, I can’t rock climb or wrestle crocodiles.”
“What about alligators?” Before she can answer, I reassure her, “don’t worry. It’s nothing too intense.”
We’re in the center of the city where flashing neon signs decorate every inch of the buildings. I pull up to the main plaza, creatively named Central Plaza, where a crowd of people swarm the streets and sidewalks.
“What’re they all waiting for?” Lisa asks as we get out of the car.
Immediately behind me, one of Vinny’s people jumps into the car and drives away. Now that’s VIP service.
“Are we going dancing at a club? I haven’t been in so long!” She’s so cute. It’s still 8 o’clock. And she doesn’t recognize the biggest arena in the whole region. It’s seating capacity is 21,000 and it looks as if all 21,000 people are already waiting outside to get in.
“Dancing is on the menu. But later.” I take her all the way around to the employee entrance near the loading bay. No one stops me as I enter, walking in as if I own the place.
Technically, I do. For an hour.
Some people whisper and point, but most are busy setting up for tonight’s event. We go up the freight elevator and when it grinds to a stop, I slide the metal door open to reveal the stage for tonight.
The place is dead silent.
Bright spotlights hang from the ceiling illuminating the middle of the room, the surrounding floor seats and the mezzanine shrouded in shadows. In the center, beneath the lights, sits the cage, a hexagonal platform with tall black fences along the sides.
Wide-eyed, she walks to the ring and runs her hand over the links.
“What is it?”
“Wait, really?” I’m surprised she has no idea what MMA, UFC or cage fighting is. But then again, she had no clue that we just walked into Prestige Park.
“I mean, I know it’s for fighting and stuff. But the ring looks nothing like boxing. Donald never liked sports, much less violent sports.” She seems entranced by the gleaming black fence and the metal stairs, like looking at a lion, dangerous but awe-inspiring.
“It’s for Mixed Martial Arts. A bit different from boxing. You can use your feet.”
“Oh! Is it the one where they do wrestling, too?” She wanders up the steps and into the octagon, spinning around, taking in the vast arena.
“Yea, they combine all sorts of techniques like punching, kicking, and submissions.”
“It’s so big! There’s even box seats all the way up there!” she points to the glass windows, lit up but empty. “Where is everyone?”
“It’s ours. I rented the place.” She stares at me in disbelief.
“The whole place?”
“For an hour.”
“Holy crap!” She squeals, making it all worth it. She turns to me, holding her fists up. “So what? Are we going to fight?”
“Yes ma’am. I figured I’d give you some self-defense lessons. You seem to attract the dirtbags. It makes sense, you know with the way you look and everything.” That body combined with that dress would have every man crawling over her like flies to honey.
“The way I look? How do I look?” She lifts the cut in the side of her dress, revealing an enticing view of her smooth milky thigh.
Looks like she’s feeling as frisky as I do.
“You look so fucking sexy. Every man in the world would want to rip that dress right off of that body of yours.” The words spill out of me before I can stop them.
“Stop flattering an old woman,” she dismisses my compliment as exaggeration and drops t
he dress back down, covering up those delicious legs. “So what? Am I going to wear this?”
“I wish. My bag should be around here, there should be some training clothes in there.”
“Is this it?” She holds the bag up. Sure enough, inside the bag, there are a pair of short shorts and a tank top for her and a pair of spandex tights for me.
“The changing room is through that entrance.” I point to the corner.
“It’s fine. We’re basically family. Just turn around.” I oblige. “And no peeking!” I start to strip down, facing away from her, but knowing a mere ten feet away, she’s standing in the nude, that delicious body that I hunger for so much. I can’t help but take a glance behind me.
And what a body she has. Those mature sexy curves that only come with age, that plump juicy ass that begs to be groped, the swell of her pussy lips exposed when she bends down, the hint of her tits swaying as she changes.
All of that had been in the palm of my hand and somehow I didn’t bury my cock into her.
Something about her body is so erotic, it awakens a ravenous desire inside of me. Something I never felt with any of the girls I’ve ever been with. Those thick curves make me want to devour her, to take her and make her mine.
My cock twitches to life, stiffening from the sight of her. I want to stroke it to her right there. Fuck that, I want to take her hips, push her down and ram it between her soft thighs. I want to pump my hot steel between her pussy lips and grind the hard shaft against her clit.
She turns her head and catches me staring at her. Shit. Is she going to take offense?
But she doesn’t say a word and turns back, squeezing into her tanktop.
I quickly slip into my shorts, a ridiculous bulge protruding from the crotch, the tightness of the spandex leaving nothing to the imagination.
When I turn around, her eyes immediately land on my giant cock — the material is so thin and stuck so close to my skin, she can probably see the outline of the fat bulbous head and even the throbbing veins.
