The Storm is Over

Greetings friends – Issac caused a mess in areas around New Orleans, and some folks’ homes and farms and businesses were destroyed. In comparison, we did fine – just four days without electricity and a/c. We are so spoiled.

My post for now is brief because I’m off to a Mediterranean cruise, back the first of October. Wrote a hot short story these last few weeks and am posting a little bit here. Enjoy ( but no talking cats this time)…

This is an except from The Red Halter Top — a young woman needs summer employment before she moves to another city to begin a Masters in Fine Arts program. This is her job interview at the local country club.

The tidy dining room contained about twenty tables, arranged with as many tables as possible crammed next to the windows that overlooked the eighteenth green. Odors of beer, cigarettes, and fried food lingered in the air.
A short, fat, balding man strutted in and greeted her, “Good Morning. You must be Susan. I’m David Lawson, the manager,” he said, reaching out to shake hands.
Susan stood and managed to stifle her flinch at his cold, clammy touch. “Yes, I’m Susan Pearson.”
He licked his lips as he appraised her from head to toe, focusing mostly on her breasts. “Nice, nice,” he muttered.
Repulsed and feeling her face go hot, she stood still, knowing she needed this job.
“All right,” he said, never taking his gaze off her chest. “You’ll do very nicely. Joanie said you’re available all summer?”
“Yes, I’m moving to Tallahassee in early September,” she said, and realized he wasn’t listening.
He brushed the front of his dingy white polyester shirt and stuck his hands in his pants pockets. Jiggling his change and God knows what else in his pants, he nodded and rotated to leave the restaurant. “Follow me,” he said over his shoulder.
They crossed the dining room and went through the double doors to the lobby of the club house. Taking tiny steps as though his shoes were too tight, Mr. Lawson opened a door marked Club Manager. He motioned for her to proceed him into the tiny space.
Susan sneezed at the musty smell inside. She stood aside for Mr. Lawson to pass, and he brushed against her breasts when he did so. She jerked back, ready to smack his face, but reminded herself of her purpose.

That’s all for now — Elise says Hi.

One thought on “The Storm is Over

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