Low Key: A Valentine's Day-ish Short

***Disclaimer: This short contains profanity and sexual content. Read at your own discretion***

I was sitting at the bar, nursing the second Peach Bellini I'd ordered since I got here. I'd had the day from hell at work, and as much as I wanted to take five shots of Patron straight to the head, I was trying to behave. I knew what tequila did to my mind and body. I did NOT need to relive my college days as a thirty-two-year-old woman. It wasn't as cute nor funny for the antics, that used to get me all the attention, at this point in my life.

Still dressed in my orange pencil skirt and sleeveless, color-block peplum top, I relaxed into the barstool my blazer was draped on. The four-inch peep-toe heels I wore today made my calves look damn good. As a matter of fact, this outfit always garnered so many compliments when I wore it. However, I was ready to strip out of all of this and put on some sweats, a sports bra and some tennis shoes so I could release some of my frustration on a punching bag. The only reason I was at the bar instead of my favorite hangout spot, the gym, is because I left my workout clothes at home and I wasn't trying to double back once I got there. Both places just so happen to be on the same route back to my humble abode. So, here I was.

About forty-five minutes into my visit at Low Key, someone chose to sit right next to me at the bar, even though there were at least three empty stools on either side of me that would have put distance between us. I sighed heavily to myself and mentally prepared to be interrupted. Sure enough, the person leaned in and loudly whispered in my ear as if we were friends or something.

“You know you're too beautiful to be sitting here at a bar, looking lonely, right,” he stated in a gruff Michael McCary voice.

I glanced at him briefly and with a huff, I say, “Does that bullshit line usually work for you?”

He looks at me with wide eyes before he fixes his face into a smirk. When I didn't smile back at him, he chuckled before following up with, “Tough crowd.”

“How can it be a crowd if I look lonely,” I quipped with my eyebrow raised.

He replies smoothly, “Many a men and women are surrounded by people and feel lonely.” I nodded my head at this truth and sipped the last of my sweet-tasting beverage. Before I could respond or react to anything, my new bar companion summoned the bartender to refresh my drink. That was when I realized he wasn't just getting to the bar because he already had a glass in front of him. Was I that far gone that I didn't notice the people surrounding me?

“Simon, can you supply this beautiful woman with another of what she was drinking?” He turns to me, “Or would you prefer something harder than your juice?”

“Juice! For your information, my Bellini was very present of champagne, thank you very much.” I rolled my eyes and decided to effectively end the conversation by turning my attention to my cell phone, as if I was actually doing anything on it. When Simon brought my refreshed drink, I was tempted to snatch it up and walk away. But I had a feeling, this one would follow me to my new destination, whether I wanted him to or not.

“Sooo, you just leaving work?”

I looked up and gave him a roll of my eyes. “Listen—”

“Isaac. But my family calls me Zack,” he offered before I could even ask for his name.

“Listen, Isaac. I appreciate the drink and all. But I really wanted to drink my frustration away until I felt ready to go home.” I looked at him and gave the most annoyed face I conjure up. I’m not gonna lie, though. He was very delicious to look at. I had been trying to ignore that fact the entire time we’d been conversing.

“You know, there are far better and healthier ways to dispel your frustration than drinking.” He dropped a beautifully dimpled smirk after his statement.

“Really? You get shut down after your corny ass pick up line and you think propositioning fucking you is a great way to try again?” My face got heated at his audacity.

“I was referring to the gym at the end of the plaza. Seems like you’re the one thinking about sex.” He chuckled at me. “It’s cool, mama. I get it. You probably get propositioned a lot, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. I… kinda… do.”

“Well, I can definitely understand why.” He surveyed me from head to toe. Had me squirming in my seat. And just like most people had been doing all day, he praised me on my attire. In fact, he made me blush when he said that the color really complimented my skin tone. I was what many consider a redbone. Orange, red, yellow, and even pink, pretty much all worked well for me. I had the short and naturally curvy girl body type that let you know mama fed me well growing up. My normally silk-pressed hair was freshly done yesterday in some rope twists and I’d just been to see my favorite nail tech less than a week ago. I looked put-together quite nicely today in my humble opinion.

“Thank you… I guess.”

“Are you not used to being complimented, Ms.—”

Isaac waited on me to respond to his question with my name and I smirked at him. “Sybrina. And yes, I am. I’m just trying to figure out your angle.” He gave me a perplexed expression.

“My angle?”

“Yes. What are you trying to accomplish by coming over here? Clearly, you’ve been in the bar long enough to have already had a drink in hand when you decided to come bother me. The bar is practically a desert, yet you sat right next to me instead of somewhere else or stayed where you’d been, apparently, babysitting your glass. So, yes, your angle. What is it that you want, Isaac?”

“Well, damn. I…” He chuckled and smoothed his right hand over his head covered in waves. “Truthfully, I was sent a text message to meet someone here. You fit the description of the color I was told she’d be wearing and where she’d be located. So, I thought—”

“So, not only are you supposed to be meeting some woman up here but now you’re trying to talk to me. And that’s the best pickup line you could come up with? Wow!”

We both chuckled before he sheepishly admitted, “I’ve never been good with pickup lines.”

“Clearly. What were you meeting this woman for? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

His deep dimples showed up again with the dazzling smile that emerged on his face. It was a bona fide panty-wetting, thigh-clenching smile that I know he’s used a plethora of times to spread someone’s daughter’s legs for him. Hell, I was ready to do that shit right now. It really didn’t help that this bar was across the street from a five-star hotel. This motherfucker almost had me out of character. I did not want that.

Then, he rested his elbow on the bar as he leaned into me to stare me in my eyes as he spoke. “If you must know, we were meeting for drinks and then,” he clears his throat before rumbling, “some stress relief.”