Right of Refusal

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Added: Sun. Jul 25, 2010 5:03pm
Posted in: Writing

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No one refused his offer.  At least that‘s what she was told by Pete, the nightclub manager.  Refusing any offer by a member of his New York crime family was unheard of.  She was so naïve, barely off the train from the south and only 22 years old, unsophisticated in the ways of the big city.  She complained to Pete that she didn’t want to join this guy in his limo outside the club.  He said to just go out there and sit a few minutes, have a drink and then excuse yourself, saying you have to be in the last show of the night.  You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, he assured her.  She knew she was in a no-win situation here and, having known a few rough-and-tumble good ol’ boys, was keenly aware that more was expected than conversation, but she needed her job.  Pete mumbled something about her having been picked over all the other girls, as if that was some kind of compliment.  She wanted to strangle him.

 

She threw her coat over her scanty costume and went outside.  He was waiting in the limo with the window half down.  The driver suddenly appeared and opened the door for her to get in.  She slid onto the seat next to him, saying she could only stay a minute.  He was a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and not bad looking.  But she was shaking.  He offered her a cigarette.  A glass of white wine materialized out of thin air.  She refused the cigarette but accepted the wine.  She drank it down in two gulps.  He smiled, filled her glass again and said he wanted to get to know her better.  He leaned over and kissed her, very gently, on the lips, cupping her face in his hands.  It was very nice, she thought.  Then those same hands began to wander to places under her coat.

 

She recoiled from him.  He looked perplexed.  Obviously, he had played this scene before and wasn’t getting the response he expected.  She bolted from the car, catching her coat belt in the door as she did so.  She opened the door long enough to get free.  She really was operating on instinct but realizing she needed to explain her behavior to him, she stuck her head in the door and said, “Now look, sir.  You are a very nice man and I’m flattered that you invited me to your car and that you want to get to know me better but I’m new here and I’m not sure exactly how I’m supposed to act and all.  Pete said to come out here and meet you and that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to…so, I’m leaving.  Not that you want me to do anything bad, and…and…your kiss was very sweet...and...I WOULD like to know you better, but this is all too fast for me.  You understand?   I’m a country girl, you know?  I’m used to things going slow…slow like molasses.  Please say you understand.”

 

He began to laugh.  He said, “You sweet baby, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.  You’re a breath of fresh air.  You don’t have to be afraid of me.  I’m going now, but I’ll be back because I really do want to get to know you better.  I’ll see you another time.  Oh, and my name’s Chris.” 

 

As the car pulled away from the curb she felt like she needed to say something, so she yelled at the disappearing limo, “…and Pete said I have to be in the last show!”  Sure enough, he did return and she and Chris became good friends…over time, very good friends.