Saturday. I love Saturdays. You got to wake up late and enjoy a long shower. After that you lay on the couch, scratching your balls while watching Star Trek reruns or playing fighting video games. No job to attend to, and I since have the habit of going on all necessary errands for the week-end on Wednesday afternoon, I have nothing else to do than to shout to the world, “Fuck Off!”
What I also love about Saturdays is that you can take time to prepare a meal fit for a king. Don’t misunderstand me, I also cook on weekdays, but since I am tired from work, I keep it simple. But on Saturday, I like to make myself a hell of a lunch. My roommates are usually gone for the weekend, so I’m free to fill the apartment in any scent I want.
I remember one Saturday in particular. It was for me an “Asian” day. I was planning Vietnamese nems and Japanese sushis for starters, followed by Pekingese lacquered duck. The dessert was Tatin pie. I know it’s not Asian but I’m a sucker for apple and cinnamon.
I was wrapping a sheet of rice paste around an elegant arrangement of shrimp, finely cut vegetables and coriander when I realized I hadn’t enough rice vinegar for preparing the sushi rice. Lucky me, there is a small Japanese grocery a few blocks away from my place. I checked the pie and the oven temperature: plenty of time to go. I took my keys, put on an old Motorhead T-shirt and rolled myself a cigarette before going down the stairs. Once at the entrance hall, I saw that some furniture was stocked there and that the front door was open. ‘Well,’ I said to myself, ‘someone must be moving in that flat below mine.’
I stepped outside, lit my cigarette and noticed a van parked nearby. Its rear doors seemed open and someone was unloading stuff, but I didn’t paid much attention as my destination was on the opposite direction. Once at the grocery, I quickly bought a bottle of rice vinegar, and stopped at an all-night booze shop to get a fresh beer before returning home.
I was walking up the stairs, sipping my beer when I heard some noise coming from above. Two flights of stairs later I was greeted with the sight of a nice female backside. Well nice was an understatement. Perfect was the term. Enclosed in tight black pants, her buttocks were perfectly round, small yet leading to curvy and feminine hips, no signs of panty line spoiling the heavenly sight. Following below was a splendid set of thighs, well defined and just full enough to be sexy without looking to fat nor too thin. Her pants were cut knee high, so I could see the smooth calves beneath them, well toned yet not too much muscular. Her skin was rosy. and look as soft as a baby’s. Stepping out of my reverie, I looked up. The girl who possessed this impressing body was wearing a white T-shirt and had short, raven black hair. She was petite, about five feet four, and her figure was to die for. Her waist was slim, with just enough curves to make it look soft as a baby.
She was trying to push a chest of drawers up the stairs, and was definitively having problems with it.
“Need some help?” I said when my brain processed the situation.
“I could use a hand,” she replied, out of breath.
She rotated her body while letting a hand on the piece of furniture, and I wish I could tell you I saw her face at the moment, but my eyes caught on with her perfect breasts before that. They looked gorgeous on her, just a little bigger for her figure than I expected, but that was a good thing. They were full and stood proud on her chest, and her T-shirt hung close to her body due to perspiration, giving me an outline of a bra I visualized white and lacy.
Then I saw her face, round and plump as a baby, with gorgeous big blue eyes emphasized with soft blue eye shadow. She wore a light touch of lip gloss, and she had the most wonderful genuine yet mysterious smile I’d ever seen. I quickly put down my beer and my bottle of vinegar and rushed to hold the chest of drawers, but I was unable to push it forward as its base was caught in a step.
“Hold it there, I’m gonna lift it from the other side,” I told her as I climbed the stairs past the piece of furniture. I quickly grabbed its base, then lifted and pulled at it at the same time, thanking the work out I’ve been doing recently after my graduation. With a few more efforts, we finally had the chest in front of her door.
“Thank you. I was going to let it slide down the stairs if you hadn’t arrived.” She was red from the effort, and took deep breaths while wiping her forehead.
“You’re welcome,” I said, panting a little bit but trying not to show it. Then I realized my Tatin pie was going to burn like hell if I didn’t shut the oven off.
“Shit!” I ran up the stairs and arrived at my apartment. Hopefully, the pie hadn’t burnt, so I opened the oven door, inhaling the cinnamon and apple aromas flowing from it. At this moment I realized I had left a damsel in distress two flights of stairs below and made an ass of myself, so I rushed back there. Hopefully, the girl was still there.
“Sorry I ran like that, bahis siteleri but I had a pie in the oven,” I said, mentally kicking myself for saying something that stupid.
She raised an eyebrow after I made a complete fool of myself. For a second, I wanted to shrink down to nothingness or be engulfed into a black hole, but then the cutest smile enlightened her face. She chuckled then said, winking, “For a moment I thought I scared the hell out of you.”
“Not at all,” I answered, relieved.
A strong apple scent started to fill the air since I had left my door and the oven open.
“Smells good,” she said.
“Sure does,” I replied, casually walking down the stairs and taking my beer and vinegar. “I was fixing myself some lunch when I had to run an errand,” I added, before taking a sip of my beer.
“A cooking man … What a rare sight.”
“Well, I always loved cooking, and now that I work and can afford healthy stuff, I don’t really deprive myself. Junk food is fine during college, but now I have time to cook. Especially on Saturdays.”
“Why ‘especially on Saturdays’?”
“Let’s just say that this is my ‘über cooking’ day. I take the time to make myself a killer meal”
She laughed, “You’re so lucky. I’m an awful cook; all I’m able to prepare is microwaved meals and overcooked pastas.”
“It’s not that hard once you get to it,” I said, smiling. “Do you have other heavy stuff to lift?”
“No, that was the big bastard. The rest I can take care of.” She paused. “That really smells good. What is it, apple pie?”
“Nope. Tatin pie. It’s a French recipe. Basically, you cook apples with a lot of cinnamon for about an hour, then pour the paste in a big dish, then cover it with pastry. It’s a sort of inverted pie.”
“Sounds really good,” she said, looking hungry.
I wasn’t going to pass the opportunity. “If you want, you can come to my apartment once you’re finished. I never eat it entirely in one time anyways.”
“I can’t say ‘no’ to that, can’t I?” she answered me.
“See you later then.”
“Later.”
‘Wow,’ I said to myself, ‘that’s some girl.’
I returned to my cooking and put on some music. Liv Kristine’s sweet voice came out of the speakers as I finished the nems and prepared the seasoning for the sushi rice. After about an hour, the sushis and nems were done and the duck and its sauce were slowly cooking. I opened a bottle of Bourgogne Aligoté from the fridge and laid the food and drink on the large TV table. I loaded videos from the last Korean Soul Calibur tournament from my PC to the TV and watched video game characters beating each other up with blunt and sharp weapons, enjoying the tactics used and figuring the input controls in my head.
I was taking a red tuna sushi with my chopsticks when I heard a knock on my door. ‘Already?’ I thought. I open the door and saw her tiny frame and smiling face. ‘You fucking dork!’ I thought. I didn’t even know her name, neither had I told her mine.
“Hi, uuhh,” I mumbled. I could have beaten myself with a stick at the moment. “Sorry I don’t even know your name. I’m Will.” I extended my hand.
“And I’m Ariel,” she said, shaking my hand.
“Come in. I’m afraid the pie hasn’t cooled off enough yet but if you’re hungry I’ve got some stuff ready.”
She followed me to the living room and I remembered the Soul Calibur videos were still playing. What a nerd…
“I …”
“You play Soul Calibur 4? Cool!”
“Yeah, actually those are championship videos from Korea. Some great stuff is played there.”
“Wow! Has Ivy undergone breast surgery after the last opus?”
“Sure looks like it… Maybe since the Bandai-Namco fusion they hired some Team Ninja designers.”
“Maybe …” she said, grinning. Did she acted out or did Ariel actually understood my nerdy references?
“Uh, I’ve got some nems and sushis if you want. Do you drink wine?”
“This looks delicious. And yes I’d like some wine.”
I got to the kitchen and grabbed a glass. We sat on the couch and talked about video games while eating. It turned out that her knowledge of fighting video games was genuine and came from her brother, who taught her a lot of tricks. We ended by enjoying all the meal together, from the entrées to the dessert. When we finished the Tatin pie, she said
“I’m stuffed. I think I ate for three days.”
“Me too,” I said, taking a sip of wine. “Wanna play Soul Calibur?”
“Alright!”
I fired up the video game system and we played some rounds and I was pleased to see that she was not a newbie. We exchanged taunts and comments on our hits and we were soon very comfortable around each other.
“Take THIS!” I yelled as my character (Nightmare) impaled hers (Talim) on the ground and summoned lightning on his sword.
“Fuck you! I’m gonna make you pay!” A few attacks later, Talim had Nightmare on a hold and gave him a hard blow of her tonfa on his balls.
“Woaaaa! You little minx I’m gonna blow you outta here!”
The round finished as Nightmare canlı bahis siteleri shoved Talim in a lava pit with his sword.
“Ring Out!” I cried.
“Shit! That must be because of her peroxide blonde hair-dying. I can’t stand it. I want a rematch, and this time, I’m gonna kick your ass!”
“Okay, but I’ll play subtly this time. I’ll take Setsuka”
“And I’m gonna take a good character. I’m taking X.”
“It’s gonna be tough …” Setsuka was quick, but the odds were against me facing Xianghua, alias the Witch, a fast and powerful character with crazy, almost magical escapes. Hence her nickname. We fought hard, but I was saved by my better knowledge of the battle mechanics of the game and won a tight three-two.
“Well played,” Ariel said. She took a look at her watch. “Shit, my boyfriend’s coming to pick me up in two hours! I gotta run!”
Of course… What was I thinking? Such a hot babe, liking fighting video games and speaking nerd fluently? Either she was an alien, or she was taken.
“Well, any time,” I said, concealing my disappointment and keeping a warm tone. “If you wanna come by and play video games, my door’s always open!” I felt so comfortable around her and really liked her personality. Even if she was taken, I had the feeling we still could be good friends.
“Okay, bye!”
*******************************
We continued to hang around each other for the next month, playing fighting games, laughing. I taught her a few recipes of mine that were simple yet delicious, and introduced her to my roommates. Being geeks like me, they liked her gamer side and she was quickly a regular guest in our mini tournaments.
We became great friends and introduced each other to our respective interests in music, literature and cinema. She was very witty and we spend long time discussing politics and news and anything. We also created our personal game we called cyni-news, which consisted in watching FOX News then commenting the stories as cynically as we could. We often had to resort to exterior refereeing by my roommates to determine the winner. We exchanged our share of cutting remarks during those games, often ending arguments with false fights and insult battles. She was truly a wonderful person and I cherished our friendship.
That friendship got tested soon enough. Let me explain.
One Saturday evening, I was slacking on the Internet when I heard:
***KNOCK! KNOCK!***
I opened the door and before me was a very disheveled and drunk Ariel.
“What happened?” I asked in genuine concern.
“That fucking son of a bitch!” she spat while staggering to me. I held her and led her to the couch. Her breath was reeking of vodka, and I could guess that she drank a lot of it.
“Tell me,” I said.
“My boyfriend… He cheated on me!” she yelled. “I trusted the bastard, but I’m through with him now.!”
‘What an asshole,’ I thought. I wanted to find him and beat the shit out of him for hurting Ariel.
“But I’ll have my revenge,” she added.
She looked into my eyes, exhaled a long, alcohol-filled breath then softly asked, “Will, do you think I’m pretty?” in a low but drunken tone.
I didn’t knew where this was going, so I decided to play it safe. “Of course you are. But you are also pretty drunk. Stay there, I’m gonna get you something that help your stomach survive this.”
“Will.” She took my hand as I was standing. “Did you ever think of something happening between us?”
I’m a lot of things, but I’m not one to take advantage of a drunken girl, even if she is the most beautiful one in a two hundred miles radius. I continued on the safe side, speaking slowly.
“Yes, I have, but not like this. I’d never want ‘this’ to happen because of someone else or because of alcohol. Your friendship means too much to me to ruin it like the first dork thinking with his dick. Now let me get you something you won’t regret in the morning.” I said this last sentence with a sad tone in my voice. Ariel was not in my league. She could never be. But at least she was my friend, and that was important enough for me not to blow it up.
I poured some bicarbonate in a glass of water and stirred the solution. I came back to the living room and I saw Ariel sinking in the couch, her eyes half closed. Putting a hand behind her neck, I made her drink the distasteful mix then laid her on the couch. After waiting a few minutes to be sure she didn’t threw up, I carried her in my arms to her room and put her limp body in the bed. I took off her shoes, then drew a blanket over her.
“Sweet dreams, Ariel,” I whispered as I got to my apartment.
***********************
“Now let me get you something you won’t regret in the morning.” I heard in my dream. In this dream, Ariel was advancing towards me, smiling. But she walked past me like I didn’t even existed and ended in the arms of faceless guy. “Fuck!” I said when I woke up.
I had taken my shower and was fixing some breakfast in my robe when I heard:
***KNOCK! KNOCK!***
I canlı bahis opened the door, and saw the Ariel I was used to. She wore a yellow T-shirt with a butterfly logo and jeans. She had a short lock of stray hair hanging on the left side of her face, giving her a very sexy look.
“Hey, Will”
“Hi. Feeling better?”
“Yeah.” Followed an awkward silence. “You know, about yesterday, I …”
“It’s okay, there’s no need to apologize. That’s what’s friends are for.”
She took a deep breath and said, “I want to thank you. For all you did. Or did not for that matters. Yesterday I was so drunk and angry I could have jumped your bones.”
My groin responded at this statement and I had to readjust myself not to lose my composure.
She continued, “I was weak and you held me up. Besides, I don’t know what awful stuff you made me drink, but my stomach feels okay.” A smile started to appear on her face.
“Bicarbonate. Nothing better for the tummy when you get wasted.” I smiled back, “Come, I’ve got bread rolls in the oven for breakfast. And no doubt a good cup of tea will help you start the day!”
***************************
Life got back the way it was, and we didn’t discuss much the ‘incident’. A few weeks later, I was sitting at my computer at work when my boss came in my office.
“Hey there Will.”
“Good morning Mr. Hallbert.”
“Like you know, we had a killer quarterly result, and the manager is throwing a dinner next week. You will be expected, you did a very good job with those analysis.”
“Thank you Sir, I’ll be honored.”
“Good. I already booked two places for you and your girlfriend at Ermando’s.” He went out as quickly as he came.
Girlfriend? I was with Erin when I joined the company, but it didn’t last long. I supposed that he thought I was still with her. Shit. Ermando’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, and I was fairly sure Mr. Hallbert told the manager I was coming with an escort. How was I going to handle the situation? Then a silly idea came to my mind. A very silly one.
***KNOCK! KNOCK!***
Ariel opened her door.
“Hey Will. Nice to see you.”
“Hi Ariel.”
I looked down, then took a deep breath. “I have a favor to ask you.”
“Anything for you,” she teased.
I looked at her nervously. “Come on, spit it out,” she said.
I had planned this moment many times in my head, yet my words weren’t those I prepared. “My manager is throwing a dinner at a fancy restaurant next week, and I’m expected to come accompanied. I wondered if you could be my escort.”
“How is that you are to come with someone?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I fumbled, “Well … I was dating someone a few month ago when I got my job, but we’re not together any more, but my boss extrapolated that I was still …”
“It’s okay. I’ll come with you. Besides, I owe you one,” she said in a cheery, reassuring tone. “When is that dinner taking place?”
I was taken aback by her quick response. “Uhh … Next Friday at eight.”
After that, we came back to our routine. Nevertheless, I pondered a long time whether she considered I had asked her a favor or on a date, but I couldn’t come up with an answer. So I decided to wait and see what would happen on Friday night.
***KNOCK! KNOCK!***
I heard Ariel’s voice through the door, “I’m not ready yet, come back in five minutes!”
One thing I knew for sure about women is that they sometimes slip in an alternate universe where time is contracted relative to ours. I came back to my apartment and waited for about a quarter of an hour. I took the time to adjust my outfit in front of the mirror. I was wearing my old tuxedo from my college days, yet I filled it well. It has always been too wide for me, but now that I was doing some sports it looked almost custom-made. Cleanly shaved, tanned face, well-combed dark brown hair and contact lenses over my dark eyes … ‘Not bad for a geek,’ I thought, thanking my part Latin origins.
I got down the stairs and this time Ariel’s door opened before I could knock. And what a sight I was greeted with! My jaw dropped to the floor as my eyes looked up and down her body.
She was wearing a black satin cocktail dress, with sewn golden floral patterns on the hem line, which was half thigh high. The garment hugged her round hips like a glove, and some Chinese characters were sewn in glossy black threads on the midsection. To complete the heavenly sight, the neck line was cut so that it was shaped like a downwards ‘S’. Starting on her right shoulder, a thin strap held the dress, broadening at the collarbone to hold a rose ornament, going down to her chest and smoothly following the upside of her full breasts, before disappearing about an inch under her armpit on her left side. Utmost refinement, Ariel wore an elegant silver ring around her left upper arm, emphasizing her bare shoulder. She swirled around and I could see that the hem of her robe was vertically slashed on the right side for about four inches, showing a fair amount of soft, rosy skin. The outfit was completed with a pair of strap high heels, and her dark hair was stylish yet wild, with short straws straying on her forehead. She was literally set to kill.