Aperitif

James liked these small, old fashioned Japanese restaurants.  He had encountered them a while back on a business trip to Japan, and had looked diligently for them in the US upon his return.  There was just something about them.  He sat in a private room, separated from the rest of the establishment by paper screens, overlooking a rather charming (if small) garden.  There were four such rooms in this particular place, and it had taken him some effort to procure one.  But he preferred a small, more intimate setting for this dinner.

At seven precisely, she appeared.  The screen door slid to the side to reveal a beautiful woman with brown hair so dark it would appear black in dimmer light, and a body that was clearly the result of an active lifestyle.  She was quite professional looking in a double-breasted, pinstripe suit and a pair of delicate, silver framed glasses.  Of course, the jacket was tailored to fit more precisely than your average suit, and a healthy amount of cleavage was on display.  The skirt was a touch shorter than most women in his office would have ever dared, and likewise the stiletto heels weren’t seen much in his line of work.  As she moved confidently into the room, kneeling opposite of him at the low table, he couldn’t help but smile.  Down to the last detail, she was precisely what he had ordered.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured as she removed the glasses and set them in a slim leather case.  “I mean, really, you’re exactly what I was after.  You will have to extend my compliments to your agency.”

She simply smiled, tactfully glazing over the fact that she was an escourt, hired for the night, and he was nothing more than another patron.  She sat back while he rang for the waitress, and then extended her hand to him as if they really were two business associates meeting for lunch.

“My name is Winter.  It is a pleasure to meet you, James.  Thank you for having me.”

He smiled again, all the more charmed by her manner, and took her pale hand in his.  It was soft, the nails manicured and painted a deeply glittering red, and faintly perfumed.  Instead of shaking it, he kissed the back of it, and felt his pulse race as he did.  Something about the satin feel of her skin and the scent of her hand.  It was something musky and eastern.  He was seconds away from turning her hand over and tasting her wrist when the screen began to pull back.  He released her and reminded himself that they were here for dinner.  They’d discuss what came later after that.

Dinner was everything he could have hoped it would be.  They both ordered sushi, and James remembered reading once that it was supposed to have aphrodisiac properties.  Watching Winter bring each bite up to her deeply red lips, he doubted he needed the extra help.  After dinner they relaxed with hot sake, and she moved over to his side of the table, kneeling next to him and even making a point of pouring his sake for him.  

She was good – very good.  She touched him casually, on the arm, the thigh.  To a casual observer her actions would seem warm and friendly.  But each touch was very warm, her hand would linger just a touch longer, and the smell of her perfume made James dizzy.  Her laugh and smile kept him mesmerized.  At one point James spilled a bit of his sake over his thumb, and with a playful smile Winter licked the drops away.  He hoped she hadn’t noticed his growing erection, and fought to regain his self control.

After the sake had been taken away and replaced with tea she leaned back, and extracted a sleep silver case from her jacket.  He watched her with a touch of surprise and a little confusion as she took out a small, slender cigar and lit it.  The smoke had a pleasant, sweet smell.  She saw his confusion and arched an eyebrow.  “I’m sorry, is something wrong?”

James found it difficult to concentrate as she blew a smoke ring off to the side.  The way her mouth looked when she did that, a perfect crimson “o”.  “No, there’s no problem.  I just was told that you didn’t smoke.”

“Really?  By whom?”

“Well, the agency.”

“Ah,” she said, and smiled knowingly.  “That would explain it.”

James was still watching her mouth, utterly captivated.  His mind was on other things, exploring the countless possibilities that mouth presented, and it actually took him a moment to process what she had said.  “Oh?”

Winter smiled, and if he had been watching her eyes instead of her mouth he might have seen the flicker of pity that entered them.  Instead, he watched as she took a long drag of the cigar, then blew the smoke directly into his face.  He blinked in surprise, then gripped the table as his head swam and the room began to spin.  He leaned heavily onto the low table, knocking over the cup of tea and watching as the liquid spread over the table and dripped onto the tatami.  Distantly, he heard Winter speak.

“I’m not from the agency.”

James slumped into his spilt tea, quite unconscious.  Winter smiled with satisfaction and stood.  First, she fished in his pants and jacked for his wallet.  That was easily found.  Then she grabbed his briefcase from where he had stowed it underneath the table.  Others would have perhaps found it odd that he hadn’t left it with his coat, or even over by his shoes.  Winter, however, knew what was in it, and wasn’t surprised at all.  

Returning to her side of the table, Winter removed a couple of those small alcohol wipes that hospitals use from her jacket.  She cleaned off her glass, the chopsticks, everywhere her fingertips or mouth had touched.  Smiling once more, she reached into her suit and pulled out a small business card.  There was nothing on the card, save that it looked as if someone with bright red lipstick had kissed it.  She slid the card into the inside pocked of James’ suit jacket.

“Call again,” she said, laughing, as she retrieved her shoes and climbed out the window into the garden.