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 ï>¿The Reluctant Santa Belle byPickFictionÂ(C)

   As Erika turned the final corner on her way to meet Alison for lunch,
the old Chevrolet coughed, jerked, and slowed down.  The engine roared to
life as she pumped the accelerator, then went silent again.  She pulled
hard on the steering wheel, fairly dragging the car to the curb by sheer
force of will.  It bumped against the curb and stopped.  Now what, she
thought futility.

   She was just about to call Alison and her mother when she heard the
sound of a loud engine.  A glance in her rearview mirror showed a large tow
truck stopped behind her.  Good and bad.  She needed help but had no money
to pay for it.  She watched a man climb out of the truck and approach the
car.  Short, unshaven, tattooed everywhere she could see, an obvious chaw
of tobacco in his cheek, he shuffled up beside her car.

   "Havin' trouble, little lady?" he asked through a yellow-toothed smile,
his aroma wafting through the open window.  She tried not to let her nose
turn up at the smell.

   "Yes, the car just stopped," she replied, not sure how to describe what
had happened.

   He spat a stream of dark liquid; just the sound of it passing his lips
causing her stomach to recoil.  "Try to start it."

   She turned the key but there was nothing.

   "Pop the hood."

   The hood was right there in front of her but she didn't know how to open
it.

   "Um," she said, bending to look under the dashboard.  She knew it had to
be there somewhere.

   "Watch out," the man said, leaning in through the window and reaching
under the dash, bumping her leg as he did.  She cringed, wishing she could
be in the back seat, or at least in the passenger seat.

   He pulled on something, there was a clicking noise and she could see
that the hood had popped up.  None too soon for her way of thinking, he
retreated from the window and shuffled toward the front of the car, one
more spat of dark liquid splattering on the street.

   She knew she should tell him she didn't have any money but decided to
wait till the car was repaired if that was going to be possible.

   He was under the hood for about a minute, then reappeared, heading for
his truck, winking at her as he passed.  She noticed he had a wedding ring
...  and wondered.  He returned quickly with a little adjustable wrench and
disappeared under the hood once more.  She heard some scraping, a few tiny
squeaks and he slammed the hood.

   Back by the window, he said, "Try it now."

   She turned the key and as if by magic, the car was running once more. 
She gave the little man a huge smile.  She was glad it was fixed but it was
time to face the music, or whatever else she might have to face.

   "Loose battery cable," he said, leaning against the door.

   "Thank you," she said quietly.  "How much do I owe you?"

   He turned and leaned both arms against the car door, his face partially
inside the car.  Erika tried not to tremble but was only partially
successful.  He was way too close, and the only way to avoid him would be
to slide across the seat  -" she wasn't going to do that.  Somehow she'd
survive.  They were on a side street with no other people or moving cars in
sight.  That didn't help her nervousness one bit.

   "Little lady, I'm guessing you're a college student which means you
probably don't have a pot to piss in." Her body wanted to cringe again, but
she couldn't help but giggle at his crude analogy.

   She nodded.

   "You got five bucks?" he asked, shaking his head.

   She dug in her purse and found one of the two five-dollar bills she had.
She very gingerly handed it to him.

   "I don't usually get to fix cars for anyone as pretty as you are," he
said, a semi-leering smile on his face "Just looking at you is enough to
make up the difference from what I'd usually charge." He stepped back from
the window.  "An old car like this, you need to have someone who knows cars
look it over ever so often.  Keep stuff like this from happening." Another
splat on the pavement.

   "Thank you, you're very kind," she said, and she meant it.  He wasn't at
all what she'd expected when she first saw him.

   He shuffled back to his truck, left one more dark stain on the pavement,
and pulled away, tooting his horn as he did.  She noted the name on the
door as he pulled past her.  Willard Towing.  Not that she'd need it, she
hoped, but perhaps she could recommend him to someone.  She made a quick
call to Alison to explain why she was late for lunch, then drove away, very
content to be moving again.

   "Erika, you going home for Thanksgiving?" Alison asked after they had
finished eating and Erika had related to her the story of Willard Towing.

   "Yeah.  Mom's there by herself and we always have Thanksgiving and
Christmas together.  Have a great break."

   "You too, hon," Alison waved as Erika was climbing into the old
Chevrolet that she hoped would get her home safely  -" mostly just get her
home.  She wasn't sure what she'd do if something went wrong with the car.
With only about seventy dollars left in her account, she was hoping to make
it to Christmas break when she'd be able to work and improve her balance.

   She drove cautiously, staying just under the speed limit, nursing her
gasoline and the car.  Finally home, she breathed a sigh of relief and went
inside to greet her mother.

   The following day was Thanksgiving and Erika was looking forward to a
quiet dinner with her mother.  No other family was living close, so
Thanksgiving was not a big family gathering as it had been when she was
little.  She missed that, but it wasn't likely to happen again with the
deaths, moving, and arguments that had taken place in the last few years.
It had left Erika and her mother isolated with no support.  Thank goodness
for the scholarships or Erika would have been stuck in Spencerville,
scrounging for work with almost no hope of anything better.

   Erika was up early, helping her mother get everything ready for their
special dinner.

   "Mom, how'd you get all this food?" She knew her mother struggled to
have enough money to meet her expenses, and this looked like a full turkey
dinner that they were ready to prepare.

   "Aw, honey, I just saved and was careful with everything.  We don't get
to eat together very often now, and I wanted to have a nice meal."

   "Mom.  You know I'd be happy with baloney sandwiches," she said,
laughing.

   "But I wouldn't." She hugged her daughter.

   "I know, Mom.  That's why I love you."

   "Do you love me enough to peel potatoes?"

   They worked together and got everything going, doing something very old
fashioned  -" stuffing the turkey with carefully prepared dressing from an
old recipe her mother had found.

   At last, everything was in process and they were able to sit down. 
Since it was nearly noon, each had a small snack, anticipating filling
themselves with the delicious dinner whose odors were already filling the
house.

   "I think I'll go out tomorrow and look for some Christmas work." Erika
watched her mother's expression change.  "What?" she questioned.

   "Honey, there aren't any jobs here." She shook her head.  "My hours were
cut two weeks ago, but they promised I'd get them back before long."

   "Are you going to be okay?" Erika got a look she didn't expect, a kind
of half-smile from her mother.

   "You remember Kirk Smith?" She continued without looking at Erika. 
"He's always asking me to go out with him ...  and I've started accepting."

   "Mom, are you sure?"

   "He's really nice.  And he takes me to lunch or dinner every chance he
gets.  And I give him lots of chances."

   "Is that right, Mom?"

   "I think he's lonely, and I'm sure I'm lonely most of the time, so it
all works out." Her mother giggled.  "He gets a new Cadillac every year so
..."

   "Sounds like everyone is happy." Erika smiled.  From the smile she saw
on her mother's face, she suspected that certain other activities were
helping solve the loneliness problem.

   "But back to where we were ...  no jobs here.  You may have to stay at
school." There was a sad resolve to her voice.

   The food was as tasty as It smelled, and the rest of the day went
quickly with Erika updating her mother about everything happening at
school. She had expected to spend Friday job-hunting, but her mother
encouraged her to head back to school and look for her very-necessary
Christmas work.

   Friday morning came and Erika was in the old Chevrolet, reluctantly
doing what her mother had suggested.  Once back, her cell phone rang and it
was Alison.

   "Hey, you at home?"

   "Nope, back in my room."

   "I thought you were going to look for a job at home," Alison began.

   "There are no jobs at home, so I came back here to try.  Just filling
out a form now."

   "What's it for?"

   "Looks like they need a Santa Belle at Winegardner's Department Store
downtown."

   "Didn't know they still had Santa and the kids stuff there.  I thought
they stopped it a few years ago."

   "Me too," Erika replied, "but I guess it's still going." She paused for
a few seconds.  The application asked for a photo.  She picked one from her
Facebook page and attached it.  "There, sent it off.  Ready for lunch."

   "Good luck," Alison said.  "Meet you at Wendy's."

   Erika lived close enough that she could walk to Wendy's, saving her car
from even those few miles.  She was picturing herself working at
Winegardner's, helping the little ones climb up on Santas lap, helping them
shop for Mom and Dad and their siblings in the Secret Santa Gift Shop, and
comforting the inevitable sobbing ones, deathly afraid of the big guy in
the red suit.

   Alison was waiting for her when she got to Wendy's.

   "So, hope you get that job," she began as they stood in the short line,
waiting to order.

   "Me too.  I need to replenish the bank account.  Starvation won't be
fun."

   Alison looked her up and down.  "You don't look like you're about to
starve," she said, grinning at Erika.

   "Alison," Erika said, rolling her eyes.

   "You need to enter the Miss America contest, I keep telling you."

   "And I keep reminding you you're full of shit up to the neck and the
rest is peanut butter."

   "Yeah, well, you're funny, but what does Mason tell you?"

   "He'd tell me whatever he thought I wanted to hear ...  and then a few
things I don't want to hear.  He finally gave up."

   "Like Nick finally gave up?"

   "Haha.  Good old Nick.  Yeah, he finally figured it out.  Probably
because of the words I used to explain it to him."

   "You're a prize, Erika.  Guys don't want to give you up."

   "Will you cut it out?" She gave Alison a dirty look.

   She had dated Mason since the semester had started, nearly four months
before the breakup.  He was a very sophisticated senior to her
still-a-little-uncertain sophomore status.  She had begun to feel he was
just a little too smooth, quick with the words but a little short on
feelings and emotions.  She had used the Nick-talk to set Mason on the
right path  -" the path out of her life.

   They nibbled on lunch as they talked and teased, Erika bearing the brunt
of most of the teasing, a position she had occupied most of her life due to
her proclivity for vivid blushing.  Before long, both of them were gigging
almost continuously.

   "I better get going," Erika said, biting her lower lip, something she
did when she was nervous.

   "Worried about the job?" Alison questioned.

   "A little, I guess.  I really need it."

   "Keep me posted," Alison said as she stood up.

   Back in her room, Erika went to her computer and loaded her email.  She
was surprised to see a response from Winegardner's.  as she was about to
click on it she looked at it again.  The name she saw on her second look
was not Winegardner's but rather Winebrenner's, similar but ...  What was
Winebrenner's?

   She opened the email.  The name at the top caused her to inhale sharply.
She squinted at it to be sure she was seeing it correctly.

   Winebrenner's Men's Club

   What the hell?  There was a message of course.

   Erika, thanks for your quick reply.  I think you would fit in perfectly
with our Santa Belle team.  Give me a call and we'll work out the details.
Regards, Zack Winebrenner.

   She quickly did some research regarding Winebrenner's.  All she could
find was that it was a very high-end and exclusive club for both men and
women.  It had a gourmet chef from Europe and advertised the dining very
heavily.  No matter what she read, two words kept intruding on those
thoughts.  The words were Playboy Club. Nothing in the ad mentioned or
even intimated Playboy Club.  Even though it said "men and women," she
could only see the "men" part of it.  Maybe she was wrong  -" but was she
willing to find out?

   What was she going to do?  It was a job and it looked like she had it if
she wanted it.  Did she want that?  High-end dining would mean high-end
tipping.  That part sounded good.  She didn't know for sure but most men's
clubs didn't feature Victorian dresses.  She wore bikinis all the time. 
Somehow, this would be different.  She stared at the email.  If she turned
it down, was there another job available?  Nothing so far had made her
hopeful about that.  She could call and find out more.  She decided that,
with other options nearly nonexistent, she'd call.

   She dialed, hoping her voice wouldn't tremble too much.  A very pleasant
male voice made her feel a tiny bit better.

   "Zack Winebrenner."

   "Hello.  This is Erika Schmidt.  Your email said I should call." She was
working hard to control the tremble in her voice.

   "Erika.  So glad you called." He sounded excited.  "We'd love to have
you join us.  Your picture tells me you'd fit right in.  Let me ask.  Are
you, by any chance, a student, looking for Christmas work?"

   She hesitated.  Why not?  "Yes, sir.  That's my plan right now." She
hoped that last statement left her a little wiggle room.

   "That's not a problem," he replied, reassuring her.  "You may find that
you'll want to keep working after you start back to school.  The money is,
well, pretty good."

   Erika could hear the enthusiasm in his voice.

   Zack continued.  "Number one, I'm anxious to have you start.  We have
three blondes and two redheads.  The dark hair I see in your picture will
contrast nicely with the others.  Number two, I'd like to have you stop by
as soon as possible so I can talk with you for a couple of minutes, and
then Lorelei can fill you in on the details.  She's way better at that than
I am." He laughed.  "She's been here for several years and knows the ins
and outs way better than I do." He paused and she knew he was waiting for
her answer.

   "Let me think a second," Erika said, struggling to make two decisions.
Did she want to find out more about the "job," and when was she available.

   "Sure, take your time." She could hear him humming quietly.

   She quickly decided that she wasn't signing up for slavery, so she could
say no to the job any time.  That decided, she thought she'd turn it back
to Zack.

   "When would be a good time to stop by?"

   "Both Lorelei and I are here now if you're free.  If not, we'll be here
tomorrow as well."

   "I'm free the rest of the day."

   "Super," Zack exclaimed.  "Do you know where we're located?"

   "No idea."

   Zack gave her an address and brief instructions about finding
Winebrenner's.  Erika made notes, confident she knew about where it was. 
She thanked Zack and told him she should be there in thirty minutes, giving
herself a few minutes to change clothes.  She put on a print dress she had
that highlighted her figure, surprised that she was "getting into the swing
of looking sexy." She decided to go all-out and wore a pair of three-inch
heels.

   The drive to Winebrenner's was uneventful, as least as far as the
driving was concerned.  Her brain was a different story, however.  Her
imagination was in high gear until she finally reigned it in, telling
herself she'd know the facts within an hour.

   She was impressed as she pulled into the nearly empty parking lot at
Winebrenner's.  It was an impressive-looking low building, hidden from the
main street by trees and carefully landscaped shrubbery.  Erika parked,
smoothed her dress, and headed for the door.  When she was almost there the
door swung open.

   "Erika, good to see you." She recognized Zack's voice.  "Come on in and
we can get started."

   She followed him into a moderately sized office and he gestured to a
comfortable chair.  She sat down, ready for whatever.

   "The photo you sent didn't lie," Zack began.  "Tell me about why you
applied." He leaned back in his chair and Erika got the definite impression
he was sizing her up, both physically, of course, and mentally when she
began to talk.

   With the question he had asked, she couldn't suppress a giggle.

   "Uh oh.  Sounds like a story is on the way." He laughed.

   "I'm a little embarrassed, but I didn't read the application carefully
and I thought ...  well, I thought I was applying to Winegardner's to be a
Santa Belle for little kids." She was sure her face was reddening.  She met
Zack's eyes and saw his smile.

   "So, you had a decision to make."

   She nodded.

   "Since you're here, I guess you've decided."

   No reply from Erika.

   "Or maybe just deciding?" he questioned.  Her look told him he was
correct.  "Let me start then, with what I hope are encouraging details. 
Your base rate will be ten dollars an hour.  Probably what you would have
made at Winegardner's." Another smile.  "But, regular serving tips amount
to somewhere around a hundred and fifty dollars a night for the six to
eleven shift.  We're open till one and Lorelei will explain about that when
you get with her.  So you're looking at a minimum of two hundred dollars
for five hours of work or, forty dollars an hour.  Sound interesting?"

   Hell yes, it sounded interesting to a girl who was trying to earn enough
money to get through the rest of the school year.

   "Yes, it does," she assured him.  "It does." He had her and she knew it.

   "Great.  Let me get Lorelei and she'll give you the rest of the info."
He picked up his phone and punched a button.  "Lorelei to the office,
please."

   In just a few seconds a blonde head poked through the doorway.

   "This her?" she asked.

   "Lori, this is Erika.  Take over."

   Lori motioned for Erika to follow her.  Outside the office, she said,
"Zack is a great guy to work for if you're wondering.  You play straight
with him and he'll help you to the moon and back.  Mess with him, you're in
trouble, know what I mean?"

   "I do."

   They went into the dining room and sat down.  "This is where it
happens," Lori said, sweeping her arm around.  She reached over to the
empty chair and held up something red, a Santa Belle outfit that Erika knew
would be hers.  It was two pieces, a skimpy bikini-like top that would
probably expose two-thirds of her breasts, and a tiny skirt that would
leave her navel exposed.  Also, the traditional Santa hat.  She had
anticipated something like this but, she was now seeing it, almost exactly
as she had imagined.  She sighed in resignation.

   "Not too bad?" Lori suggested.

   "No, not bad." Erika giggled.  "I guess I've shown more on lots of
occasions."

   "Okay, here's the deal.  You'd have four tables on a normal night.  If
things are light, you might have five.  You stay at the tables, taking care
of things the whole time, except when you get a signal from the kitchen
that an order is ready.  There's a little Bluetooth thing you wear in your
ear to get those notifications.

   "From about six when we open until eleven, it's mostly husbands and
wives.  A few single men and, once in a while, a single woman.  This is a
gourmet restaurant and the food is always, always the very best.  It's not
cheap either.  If you work from eleven to one, it's almost all men.  For
the shift that lasts till eleven, you take orders  -"I'll show you how to
do that in a little while -"you serve, you keep the drinks, coffee, and
water glasses filled, and are always right there to meet their every wish.
During that time, you don't flaunt the outfit, those big boobs of yours and
you don't flirt with the men.  That'll come later.

   "Now, from eleven to one, when you get to work that shift, it's almost
one hundred percent men.  Women are allowed but don't usually stay till
then.  During this time, flirt with the men, let those boobs tantalize them
a little -"it helps the tips.  The good money-maker from ten to one is the
'cuddle' sessions."

   "The what?" Erika questioned, opening her eyes a little wider.

   "'Cuddle' sessions.  Oh, and I forgot to mention, you're topless from
eleven to one." She smiled at Erika who was now chewing on her lower lip.
"It's just a name.  It involves sitting on their lap, putting your arm
around their neck, letting them lay a hand on your leg.  If you want to let
them gently touch a breast, that's up to you.  Most of us do.  It's a
one-hundred-dollar charge for a session.  We don't use egg-timers since a
lot depends on how busy you are.  If you have to, you can split it into two
sessions

   "Got it," Erika nervously replied, nodding and trying to picture herself
doing that.  One of her early boyfriends had enjoyed watching her boobs
jiggle, so that was nothing new.  He was a boyfriend  -" this would be with
strangers.

   Lori jumped up and got one of the order books they used.  "See here, at
the top, these four little boxes.  Just put an X through the block to
indicate a 'cuddle' session.  Check two if the guy wants two of them. 
We've never had to use more than the four." She laughed.  "Just put more Xs
across the top I guess, if you have to."

   Erika was thinking ...  and calculating.  A hundred bucks for what, five
minutes work, or however long the session lasted?  Not exactly work but ...
At Winegardner's, if there was even a job there, she'd be getting eighty
dollars for eight hours work.  Despite her reservations, this job was
beginning to sound very enticing.

   "Plus," Lori continued, "if you look them right in the eye the whole
time you're doing some of that stuff, you know, make them the center of
attention, you may get five or ten dollars more on the food and drinks tip,
depending on the guy."

   "That sounds like a lot of money, and I do need money to get me through
till summer."

   "We work year-round, just changing our costumes with the season," Lori
assured her.

   Erika was thinking about something that had been said earlier and was
curious.

   "You said something about eleven to one.  What's different about that?"

   Lori smiled at her.  "First let me say, this is not a sex shop of any
kind.  No sexual activity takes place here.  Zack is strict as hell about
that.  But, the eleven to one shift is where you can make some real money.
Stand up a second and turn around."

   Erika was puzzled but did as Lori requested.

   "Quite a figure you have there.  You'll do well from eleven to one."

   Erika was having trouble breathing as she pondered all of what Lori had
just said.  She was picturing, at least trying to picture, some of the
things Lori had described.  It was all beyond anything she had imagined or
could imagine, although she was working at that.

   "Just be honest with the guy at the start.  You tell them no, it's no.
Zack will back it, too.  They give you any trouble and they're out on their
ass and they know that.  These are doctors and lawyers and businessmen,
guys with lots of money to spend, but they don't want any trouble.  I've
never had a problem."

   Lori was watching Erika pondering the near overload she had received in
the past five minutes.  She let her think, smiling as she knew exactly the
thoughts that were racing through her mind.

   "Wow," Erika finally said.  "Not exactly what I was picturing."

   "The money isn't what you were picturing either, is it?"

   "Not at all." She paused for a moment, obviously doing some calculating.
"So, on a good night, a really good night, working from six to one, you can
make ...  a thousand dollars?" Erika's eyes were very wide as she said that
number.

   "Sure can." Lori shrugged.  "Not as many people here from eleven to one
so there's only three of us working that shift.  We trade around so
everyone gets a chance."

   "And you're open seven days a week?" Erika questioned.

   "No, just six days.  No Sundays.  But Monday is slow and Thursday too
for some reason.  So, on those days there are only four of us working. 
Still, you get at least four days a week and that's a lot of money."

   Erika was still processing, and Lori watched.

   "Ready to start tomorrow?" Lori finally said.

   "Oh my gosh.  It's hard to say no.  That's for sure.  But tomorrow?"

   "Your first day, you'll just observe.  Then you'll be ready to go. 
Let's go tell Zack that tomorrow is the day." She grabbed Erika's arms and
directed her toward the office.

   Erika wasn't resisting, so the decision was made.  It was all happening
so fast, but the decision needed to be made fast.  Jiggling her boobs ...
hand on her bare belly ...  probably playing with her navel.  It wasn't a
sex thing.  She kept telling herself that.  Guh.  She was going to do it
and see what happened. * * * * *



   Erika was at Winebrenner's at five-thirty on Saturday, ready to watch
and learn.  She'd filled out all the papers yesterday so she was committed,
despite the reservations that still lingered.  She tried to ignore them and
was more successful doing that with each passing hour.  The dollar amounts
that Lori had mentioned were sweeping her doubts away as she was
anticipating having no problems surviving the rest of the academic year.

   Today, she wouldn't be wearing the uniform she had taken home yesterday
and tried on.  The material was a little stretchy and, given that, it fit
her reasonably well, if a little tighter than she would have liked.  She'd
stood in front of her mirror and tried jiggling her boobs.  Despite the
tightness, the material was flimsy enough that she had plenty of "jiggle"
going for her.  Lots of stomach and belly visible too, which highlighted
her cute innie navel.  Plenty of legs showing below the bottom of the short
pants.

   Lori greeted her and briefed her on what would be happening.  She found
herself anxious to get started and see what would be happening.  Saturday
was the busiest night, she had learned, so there'd be plenty to see.

   At six o'clock, Zack unlocked the front door and took his place behind
the small podium where he'd be directing the guests to their respective
tables.  He smiled at Erika and gave her a thumbs up.  She was tingling
with anticipation.

   Zack had told her to just roam around and watch what was happening and
take some mental notes.  He'd pressed her about college and how she was
doing and she'd had to admit that she had gotten a B during her first
semester of college, but all as since.  That seemed to reassure him that
she'd have no trouble remembering things.

   She watched as the first customers came in, men with their wives, as
Lori had said, with just a smattering of single males.  She watched Lori
and the others taking orders, noting that all but one had five tables.  She
had already gotten a couple of "can't wait for you to start" from the
others.  That would allow each to have the normal four tables.

   She noticed the servers giving big smiles and often laughter, without
overdoing it at all.  They weren't doing anything that would be offensive
to the women.

   A lot more activity, none of it discouraging to Erika, and it was the
mysterious eleven o'clock.  Amidst her nervousness, she was anxious to see
what happened here.  Despite that anxiety, particularly as she observed
several of the 'cuddle' sessions, she saw nothing she wasn't expecting,
nothing that Lori hadn't told her, and certainly nothing that would cause
her to change her decision.  She was ready for Monday. * * * * *



   There was no way to avoid lunch with Alison, and Erika was planning what
to tell her about the new job.  She had decided to leave out as many of the
details as possible.  Besides, she had never actually done any of those
details.  Rationalizing had become a common part of her life in the last
couple of days.

   "I'm dying to hear.  You get the job?"

   "I got it," Erika confirmed.

   "So, you'll be sitting little kids on Santas lap?"

   A very pregnant pause.

   "Um, what's up with that?" Alison looked genuinely puzzled along with
her grin.

   "I misread the application, or at least the name on the application."

   "I don't understand."

   "It wasn't Winegardner's, it's Winebrenner's." She glanced at Alison who
still looked puzzled.

   "What's that?"

   "It's a ...  men's club."

   Alison stared at her for long seconds.  "What the fu ...  hell is going
on with that?"

   "I'm a Santa Belle at a men's club." Erika shrugged.  "Think Playboy
Club, only not quite the same."

   "Holy shit.  Little bunny suit with your boobs hanging out?" Alison
looked amazed.

   "Kinda."

   "So, that's all you're going to say?"

   "Not much to say.  You can picture it." Erika wasn't going to help
improve Alison's picture unless she had to.

   "Of course, the big question is, do you make good money doing that?"
Alison was smiling, a very coy smile.

   "Yeah, it's good." Erika shrugged again, not willing to let Alison in on
how much she was making ...  or rather, was going to make.

   "I'll have to come and see you."

   "Bring lots of money if you do.  The food there is very expensive.  Very
expensive," she repeated, hoping to deflect Alison's interest.

   "I don't need that.  No extra money in my account either.

   They spent another thirty minutes talking about school, then devoured
their burgers, finally heading to their rooms, Alison to get ahead with her
studies and Erika to wonder about Monday. * * * * *



   Despite wanting to sleep in, Erika was awake at seven p.m.  and ready,
if not anxious, to start the day.  She wasn't anxious to start so early,
even while being anxious about what the day would be bringing.  She fixed a
light breakfast, two pop-tarts, and some coffee and tried to look at the
first assignments for her January classes.  Lori had told her she'd be
getting a check for her Saturday work, seven hours at ten dollars an hour.
After taxes, about sixty dollars she guessed.  Adding that to the seventy
she already had would provide her a nice cushion for the coming week until
she'd be paid again  -" the next one considerably larger than sixty dollars
she was sure.

   If things went like she was anticipating, she'd have to figure a way to
tell her mother what she was doing so she could provide her with a little
extra money as well.  She knew that would be an interesting challenge.  She
decided, since she had that little bit of extra money, she would wander the
mall and see if there was a trinket or two she might like to have.

   It was eleven o'clock when she got to the mall, wandering here and
there, trying to calm her nerves with the light exercise of walking.  She
stopped at a cosmetics store, got a couple of things for her hair, some
lipstick, and nail polish to match her outfit and, foolishly she thought,
two very small sterling silver bracelets, one for her ankle and one for her
wrist.  She'd heard a couple of guys talking about how cute the ankle
bracelets were and she'd decided to try it out.

   Back at her room, she wiled away some time, leafing through a school
book, not getting much studying done.  Finally, she took a shower and
carefully shaved her legs, realizing that was going to become a nearly
daily regimen.  She carefully did her fingernails, marveling at how the
color exactly matched her outfit.  Lori had suggested she get to the club
at five so she could become somewhat familiar with the menu, which wasn't
extensive but did change somewhat each night.

   She had debated about ironing her outfit but quickly realized the
material didn't wrinkle and, at least on the top, was thin enough that her
body, i.e., her boobs, would easily smooth out any wrinkles that were
there. Finally ready, she dressed, put her two bracelets on, packed the
outfit and shoes in a small duffle bag she had, made sure she had her
lipstick and headed for Winebrenner's.

   She dressed quickly in the room set aside for the servers, deciding she
looked pretty good with her bracelets and matching nail polish and
lipstick. She went directly to the kitchen where she got a twenty-minute
indoctrination on the menu, the food, and how it was prepared.  She was
usually very good at remembering things  -" it had gotten her through
school thus far, and she would brush up on the details every chance she
got.

   Zack met her in the dining room, his eyes opening wide when he saw her.

   "Um," he said, smiling broadly, "I think you'll do just fine.  Quick
question, how tall are you?"

   "About five-ten," Erika answered, not sure whether to be self-conscious
about her height.  With the heels she had on, she knew she was over six
feet.

   "With the dark hair and eyes, and that height, you have an advantage on
the others." He smiled again.  "Good luck, tonight.  But I don't think
you'll need luck." He winked and headed toward the front door.

   If he was trying to make her feel comfortable on her first night, he was
succeeding, at least as much as that was possible.

   She saw Lori headed for her at a quick walk.

   "We've got a couple of minutes here.  Let me show you how to fill out
the order.  If you have a super memory, you don't need to write anything
down, just remember it.  We had one server who did that and people were
impressed."

   Something to consider, Erika thought.  She had a good memory and might
experiment with it outside the club first.  With just two people at a
table, it would be easier.

   Lori continued with the explanation -"nothing too complicated.  She took
Erika to the computer entry console and showed her how to use that, also
not overly complicated as long as you were careful with your entries.

   They finished just In time as the door was open and Zack was directing
people to their tables, one well-dressed pair to one of Erikas tables.

   "Hello," she said, almost before they were completely seated, "and
welcome to Winebrenner's."

   "Well hello yourself," the man replied, returning Erika's smile.  "And,
unless I've missed something, you're new."

   "I am," she replied.  "I'm Erika," she ventured, not having been
instructed on whether or not to give out her name.

   "I'm Andy Watson and this is my wife, Sandra."

   "Hello, Erika," Sandra said, also smiling, then shifting her glance to
Andy.

   Sensing what was happening, Erika asked, "May I start you out with
something to drink?"

   Both decided on wine and surprised her by telling her only that it
should be red, her choice.

   "Are you sure?" Erika asked, glancing from one to the other.

   "We do that quite often", Andy assured her, "and we've never been
disappointed."

   Erika shook her head.  "That's a lot of pressure to put on a newcomer,"
she teased.

   "I'm not worried," Andy replied.  "You look like you can handle it."

   A quick glance at Sandra, who was watching Andy, appraising his gentle
teasing of Erika, and then she headed for the bar and some advice as her
knowledge of wine was nil.

   She returned minutes later with two glasses of red wine.

   Both Andy and Sandra took a sip of the wine.

   "Ah, it's a zinfandel," Andy quickly remarked, "and a good one too." He
looked up at Erika, obviously waiting for more information.

   "Yes, it's, and let me see if I can say this correctly, Grgich Hills,
2013." She was proud that she'd remembered the name.

   "Well done," Andy said, looking at Sandra.

   "Was I being graded?" she asked, laughing.

   "Absolutely," Sandra quickly replied.  "And I think you passed with
flying colors."

   "Thank you," Erika smiled.  as long as passing equated to tips, she was
happy with that.

   At about ten-fifteen, she watched a nicely dressed man approach her area
and be seated by Zack, who looked at her, gestured to the man with a head
nod, and winked.  That made her wonder, but she moved quickly to the table.

   "Hello," she said, "and welcome to Winebrenner's," her usual greeting.

   He lifted his head from the menu to look at her, and a shiver ran up her
spine, he was so handsome.  Her smile was matched by his even broader
smile. He just looked at her for long seconds, until she remembered why she
was there.

   "May I get you something to drink?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't
waver too much.

   "Please," he replied, still smiling.  "Maybe a glass of chardonnay." He
nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

   as she was at the bar getting the glass of wine, Lori sidled up beside
her.

   "Good luck with that one," she said.  "Every one of us had hopes about
him.  He's so freaking good looking and tips well."

   Erika served him the wine and, once again, his eyes never left hers.  He
asked her a few questions about the night's menu, probing quite a bit, she
thought.  Finally decided, he ordered.  He asked for a refill of the wine a
few minutes later and she took care of that.  He had finished eating about
ten forty-five and he gestured to her.  She hurried to the table.

   "I'd like to talk to you for a couple of minutes if that's all right."

   "Sure, no problem," she said, giving her other tables a quick glance to
ensure that everything was in order.  This late, only one other of hers was
occupied.

   He looked up at her, a different look on his face this time.  It nearly
gave her goosebumps.

   "Well, here goes," he began.  "I'm just guessing here, but from
listening to you talk I'd say you're a college student looking to make a
few dollars over Christmas, or a graduate, doing the same thing.  Am I way
off base?"

   "Exactly right on the first count," she said, their eyes meeting again,
only much closer now as she had bent over to talk with him.  She could
smell his cologne, see so very clearly the clear blue of his eyes, the tiny
stubble of his beard.  She could even feel his breath against her as he
spoke.

   "I'll tell you that my name is Matt," he said, "on the condition that
you tell me yours."

   "Since you've already told me yours, you've left me no choice then?"

   "True," he replied, chuckling.  "I planned that."

   "I'm Erika, a college sophomore, trying to get enough money to survive
the rest of the school year.

   "And what is a sophomore like yourself looking forward to becoming?"

   She could hardly keep herself from saying that she was looking forward
to becoming a wife to someone like him.  This job was bringing out an
entirely different side of her.

   Instead, she answered, "A nurse.  I've wanted to do that for years."

   "When you graduate, let me know.  I'll hire you."

   "What?" she gasped.

   "I'm an orthopedic surgeon, and I hire nurses all the time."

   "Wow," she exclaimed, a little louder than she'd wanted.  "Oops, sorry",
she said, shushing herself.  "I may hold you to that," she said, a playful
grin on her face.

   "You won't have to.  I'll remember you," he assured her, the look on his
face much more serious.

   They looked at each other from six inches apart until, once again, that
huge smile appeared on Matt's face.

   "Put one hundred dollars in your little book or whatever for our
conversation here," he said, swallowing her with his smile one more time.

   "No, that's too much," she said quickly, and I don't have a book ... 
plus that should be for after eleven o'clock." She was a little flustered.

   "I sort of offered you a choice before, when I asked if we could talk.
This time, I'm not offering you a choice."

   "You sure?" One-hundred dollars was a lot of money, at least to her it
was.

   "Yep."

   "Thank you," was all she could muster.

   "No problem.  And, like it or not, you'll be seeing more of me." It was
a matter-of-fact statement.

   "Not a problem for me," she replied.  Not a problem at all she thought.
She could get used to a guy like Dr.  Matt.

   She retrieved his check, he handed her the credit card and she went to
Zack to have it taken care of.

   "He asked me to talk with him and said he was giving me one hundred
dollars for doing that.  How do I handle that?" she asked Zack.

   "Oh my gosh," was his reply.  "I'll take care of it." He smiled at her.
"I kind of figured," he added.

   She wondered what he'd figured.

   Back at his table, she saw Matt adding a tip and his signature.  He
handed it to her.  She was tempted but refused to look at it.

   "Have a good rest of your evening," she said, looking at him eye to eye
when he stood up.

   He glanced at his watch.  "Sleep well," he tossed back at her.

   A wave of his hand and the good doctor was headed to the front door and
out into the cold night.  Erika took the completed check and handed it to
Zack.  He glanced at it and then at Erika, a questioning look on his face.

   "Did you look?" he asked quietly.

   She shook her head.

   "The doctor is a good tipper, but I've never seen him tip quite like
this." Erika was now curious.  "Fifty bucks, on top of the hundred.  You
must have treated him well."

   She took a deep breath.  "He's, well, very easy to treat well."

   Zack laughed and nodded at her remark.  "On a quiet night, with not too
much happening, not unusual for Monday, you made the regular fifty collars
in salary, a hundred extra from the doctor, and about three hundred in
regular tips.  So, four-hundred and fifty dollars

   "Unbelievable," was all she could say.  "And thank you so much, for the
job."

   "Hey, no problem." He paused, just looking at her.  "You have to realize
you're a beautiful woman.  When you're here, and men are debating about
where to eat, they're going to remember you and choose Winebrenner's."

   "You give me too much credit," she said, lowering her head.

   Zack smiled.  "Get changed and have a great night," he said, turning to
greet a pair of men, arriving for the eleven o'clock segment.

   * * * * *

   Tuesday night went much as Monday had, with several very pleasant
conversations with customers and earning about the same as Monday's, even
without the doctor's one hundred dollars.

   On Wednesday, she had a familiar customer as Dr.  Matt appeared once
more, brandishing that intoxicating smile he'd sent Erika's way on Monday.
She brought him his wine, then dinner.  After dinner, and over another
glass of wine, he spoke to her with a gentler tone to his voice.

   "I'm offering you your choice again," he began.

   She shook her head, unable to surprise a smile.

   "I want to talk with you a little more, your chance to say yes or no."

   Now she was thinking "working at Winebrenner's" thoughts.  If it were
after eleven she could have a 'cuddle' session with this wonderfully
handsome man.  But it wasn't, so she'd have to remain standing.  Even doing
that she could display a good bit of cleavage and, she was sure, a pleasant
swaying of her breasts as well.  She knew that if he was a normal male he'd
like that.

   Matt was waiting, his eyes never leaving hers.  It was an almost
hypnotic spell he cast when he did that.

   "Sure," she answered, eager to talk more with Dr.  Matt.

   "How are the studies going," he asked.

   "Good," she answered.

   "That's it?" he teased.  "My older sister has a nine-year-old who always
says 'fine.'"

   "They really are, well, good," she repeated.

   "All A's?" he questioned.

   A hesitation.  "Yes," she said demurely.

   "I should have guessed," he said quickly.  "Now I know I'm going to hire
you.  You ever think of being a doctor?"

   Too much too fast.  From talking with a doctor to becoming one.  Matt
didn't waste time.

   "Oh my gosh, no.  I'm lucky to be in school, let alone thinking about
becoming a doctor."

   "If you're getting all A's, that's not luck.  I think there are some
brains hiding behind that pretty face." He was eying her from just inches
away and, as she had anticipated, she could feel his breath on her cheek
when he spoke.  And she did enjoy the compliment, coming from him.  She
twitched just a tiny bit and looked around the room.

   "Okay, okay," he said, laughing.  "I know I can't keep you here all
evening.  But I do hate to share you."

   Was he sending her signals?  Share her?  She wanted to think that he was
but wasn't about to be that bold.  She knew she was pretty and men would
enjoy talking with her or 'cuddling' with her.  A handsome guy like the
doctor could have lots of girls 'cuddle' ...  without having to tip them
either.  If he was going to give her that extra tip again tonight, the
money would be helpful, and she needed to leave it at that.

   She brought him another glass of chardonnay, then his check which he
completed and signed.  Erika didn't look at it this time either, difficult
as that was.  She took care of the remainder of her tables, getting a smile
and nod from Matt as he left.

   Thursday was her day off so she went to the mall again.  She had the
money from her one-day paycheck and needed a few things, mostly underthings
but she always hated to spend her money on something no one saw.  She found
herself looking at frilly and lacy things though, afraid to admit where
that inclination had originated.  But she was very pleased with what she
had chosen.

   She woke up Friday morning, nervous before she climbed out of bed. 
Tonight would be her first eleven to one shift.  She took a long walk in
the morning, her mind drawn to what Lori had told her, and what she had
seen on her training night.  She tried to put herself into the pictures her
mind was generating without much success.

   When afternoon came she followed her usual routine, taking a shower,
carefully shaving her legs from top to bottom, doing her hair, and
double-checking her manicure ...  and her pedicure.  Lori had told her
about one guy who paid extra if she would remove her shoes while she sat on
his lap.  Erika thought she'd have no trouble doing that.

   Then there was the topless part.  She'd had the two boyfriends her
senior year of high school who had, well, seen her topless a few times and
prepared her for the "squeezes" that would be a possibility tonight.  There
had been the two or three episodes of alcohol-enhanced skinny dipping last
year that prepared her for having strangers see her bare breasts.  Prepared
or not, she wasn't sure she was ready.  She told herself she wasn't that
special and would just do it ...  and smile the whole time.

   Her regular shift went much as the first three had gone with nothing out
of the ordinary.  Her tables were full almost the whole time so she knew
she'd do well on regular tips.  Just before ten Zack seated an older couple
in her area with a whispered warning that the gentleman could be a little
cantankerous at times.  Sure enough, he complained that there were spots on
the silverware, his wine wasn't the proper temperature, that Erika was too
tall and it hurt his neck to look up at her.  When she bent to talk with
him she was tsk-tsked by his wife who was shaking her head, looking at
Erika's cleavage.  She smiled inwardly, knowing there was no way to win
with these two.

   The grumpy pair were gone when eleven o'clock arrived and Erika slipped
off to the servers dressing room, along with two others, to shed her top. A
deep breath and she was back in her area.  She got a thumbs-up from one of
the leftover customers which brought an embarrassed grin from her.  By
eleven-thirty, she had done two "cuddles", stopped a leg-rubber was being a
little too enthusiastic and thanked a very inebriated older guy for telling
her she was the prettiest server he'd ever had.

   At eleven forty-five, she gasped as she saw Zack seating Dr.  Matt in
her area.  Her instinct was to hold her arms in front of her breasts, but
she couldn't do that, despite the desire that was puzzling her.  He caught
her eye and smiled.

   She moved to his table.  "The usual chardonnay?" she asked, knowing her
cheeks were very pink, angry at herself that it was happening.

   "That's perfect," he replied, looking at her with a very soft and gentle
smile, one she hadn't seen before.  "And so I'm not hiding anything, I
checked with Zack to learn when you were working this shift.  Never been to
one of these before." She thought his cheeks might have the tiniest pink
hue to them when he said that.

   Her breath caught in her throat.  No way to respond to what he'd said so
she left to get his wine.  When she returned she bent to sit it in front of
him, her breasts swinging teasingly right in front of his face.  A part of
her wanted to tape those things down, but another part wanted them to
torment him even more and to do it more often.  She was getting to be a
mess when Matt was around.

   He ordered, doing a pretty good job of looking her in the eye.  A few
times his gaze drifted a little south of her face.  Embarrassingly, she
felt her nipples begin to harden when he did look at her breasts and she
was sure he couldn't fail to notice that.  What could he be thinking?

   He ate, she kept checking to see if he needed anything else, probably
more often than she would have normally done with another customer.  It was
obvious that the part of her that wanted to torment him more often was
winning the battle.  Her brain kept reminding her that he was a
sophisticated surgeon and possibly untormentable.  He ordered another glass
of wine and when she brought it, he patted his lap.

   "Cuddle time," he said.

   She took a deep breath, smiled, and swung her leg over, and sat down,
her boobs bouncing as she did.  He made no bones about looking at them from
as close as he was.  As her arm went around his shoulders, she felt his arm
go around her waist, his hand holding her firmly.  He was paying for a
"cuddle" and she was willing to cuddle with him.  Her other arm lay across
her legs.  Rather than putting his hand on her leg as she expected him to
do, he began playing with the tiny bracelet on her wrist, softly rubbing
his finger from one side to the other and then back.

   She studied his face as he played, wondering at the sights those blue
eyes had seen in the operating room.  She was sure that the hand that was
playing with her bracelet had worked medical miracles regularly.

   "You said you were an orthopedic surgeon, right?" she finally asked, not
wanting to interrupt his leisurely touching her bracelet ...  and her arm.

   "That's right," he replied, not looking away from her arm.

   "So, you do replacements and things like that?"

   "That, and I'm on emergency call for accidents, falls, things like that
too."

   "That has to be hard," she said, crinkling her face at the thought of
what accidents could do to a human body.

   "You'll find out when you're my nurse," he answered, still looking at
her arm and his finger tracing the bracelet from side to side.

   She was sure she could feel her breathing changing.  Just the touch of
his finger was entrancing.  She never imagined that something so simple
could be so intense.

   "Long hours?"

   "Sometimes, yeah.  Not always though."

   She could feel his hand tightening slightly on her waist.  She
involuntarily shifted her arm that was around his shoulders.  Her hand was
resting on his shoulder, and it wanted to give that shoulder a little
squeeze.  She let it.  His finger stopped tracing its path.

   "Is this new?" he asked, sliding his finger under the tiny chain.

   "I've had it since I started here."

   "I've noticed the one on your ankle.  Those things are fascinating,
particularly on long legs like yours." He slid his hand under her hand. 
"You have beautiful hands, you know.  It's a surgeon thing I think.  We
notice hands."

   His hand was moving back and forth under hers.  His head turned toward
her and they locked eyes for a few seconds.  Then he was back, looking at
her arm and stroking the bracelet

   "You finished at one?" he asked.

   Her breath caught again.  "Yes."

   "For a thousand dollars, would you go home with me when you're through?"

   Her eyes widened and she stiffened.  Was he serious?

   "Fifteen hundred?"

   What the hell?

   "Two thousand?" Still stroking the bracelet.  He looked at her again, at
the shocked and surprised expression on her face.  "Seriously though," he
continued almost immediately, laughing.  "Instead of that, how about
meeting me at Scramblers for breakfast in the morning?"

   Those blue eyes, that inviting smile, the hand holding onto the bare
skin at her waist, that single finger, stroking her bracelet and her arm.
She could feel her nipples hardening even more, a very natural reaction to
the way she was feeling and what he was saying.

   "Matt, are you serious?" she asked, almost directly into his ear.

   "The Scramblers part is very serious.  The others were just me being an
asshole."

   She glanced around quickly.  None of her other tables needed service. 
She was free to sit here for a while longer.

   "Since you said that, the cuddling is free tonight." She let her hand
squeeze his shoulder again.

   "It's complicated," he said, puzzling her once more.  "And I hope I can
say this right." A little squeeze to her waist.  "The tips are ...  well,
for you but just as much for your schooling, so I'll have a well-trained
nurse when I hire you.  And some spending money while you're there.  I
leave you good tips because I want to help.  And, you may think I'm kidding
about hiring you, but I'm not.  I'd hire you today if you had your degree.
Of course, I couldn't afford what I'm sure you're making here." That
brought a laugh from both of them.  "So," he continued, "I told you I was
serious about Scramblers, but you didn't say yes or no."

   "as long as it's not too early, yes."

   "I have rounds.  How about ten o'clock?"

   "I'll do my best," she laughed.

   He took hold of her hand and helped her stand.

   "Another glass of wine?" she asked, finding herself unwilling to leave
Matt's table.

   He laughed.  "Haven't finished this one yet," he said, lifting his
glass. "But rounds start early in the morning so I better get some sleep."
He finished the wine and smiled at her.  "Check please," he added with a
laugh.  She went to the printer, processed the check, and returned to
Matt's table.  He filled in some numbers, signed it, and returned it to
Erika.

   "Thank you.  Sleep well." A final smile and Dr.  Matt was on his way.

   The rest of her shift went smoothly with three more "cuddles" and
nothing more than that.  Until about twelve-fifty, that is, when a regular
at the eleven to one shift had far more alcohol than he should have.  On
his third inadvertent touching of her breasts, she was thinking of
calling Zack when he appeared at the table.

   "How's your evening going, George?"

   A slurred, "Good."

   Zack held out his hand and helped her stand.  He turned to George.

   "Good night, George.  We'll call an Uber to get you home." He turned to
Erika.  "Let me have his check." He winked.  "George tips well." Zack and
George stumbled toward the front of Winebrenner's

   It was one o'clock and she went to the dressing room with the others. 
As she was dressing, Lori stopped by her locker.

   "See you had a pair of them tonight."

   "More than a pair."

   "I mean harmless George and the doctor."

   "George's hands wandered a little."

   "We've all been through that." Lori lowered her voice.  "You sat on the
doc's lap for a freaking hour."

   Erika felt her cheeks reddening.  "He's paying so ..." She wasn't about
to tell Lori about tomorrow morning.  She finished dressing and headed for
her room, anxious to imagine and then sleep.

   Erika had set her alarm for eight-thirty just in case.  Just in case
happened as the alarm awakened her from a dreamless sleep.  A big yawn and
she jumped out of bed, anxious for her ten o'clock breakfast.  She
exercised as she did almost every morning, then took a warm and relaxing
shower.

   She debated about what to wear, finally deciding on a pair of black
workout pants that stopped a few inches above her ankles  -" she wanted the
little ankle bracelet that Matt seemed to like to be visible.  The same
reasoning for the pullover sweater with three-quarter length sleeves. 
Ironically, all her underthings were dirty except for the new lacy ones she
had just purchased.  She put on her Nikes and was ready.

   Her timing was good as she arrived at Scramblers just five minutes
before ten.  She didn't see Matt but went ahead and was seated, ordering a
black coffee to occupy herself while she waited.  Five past ten slipped by
and then ten past.  The first twinges of nervousness had just begun when,
through one of the big front windows, she saw him jogging across the
parking lot toward the door.  Relieved, she watched him spot her, smile,
and head for her table.

   "Sorry," he said, tossing his coat on a chair.  "There was an accident
and, well, I was right there and helped out on some surgery." He was still
in his green scrubs, a Dr.  Matthew Kinghorn name tag pinned to his chest.
He sat down.

   "My gosh," Erika said, "that's way more important than breakfast with
me." She watched his smile broaden.

   "Both are important," he finally said.

   "It's interesting to see you like this, more like Dr.  Matt."

   "Same with you," he added, "after the special treat last night."

   "Oh god," she gasped, looking away.

   "Oh shit," he said, immediately taking hold of her chin, pulling her
face around to look at him.

   She slowly raised her eyes to his, her face very red.

   He took a very nervous deep breath.  "I ...  am ...  so ...  sorry. 
That was gross, unkind, and insulting.  I ask you to forgive me, but would
not blame you if you didn't."

   The look on his face was not like any she had seen before.  Her heart
was pounding and she could still feel the heat in her cheeks.

   "That shocked me," she said, "and hurt a little."

   She watched his eyes close.  Slowly she reached up and moved his hand
from her chin, holding onto it.

   "Forgiven," she said, laying his hand on the table, the mood broken by
the server stopping by to take their order.

   They both ordered, and Erika sipped her coffee.

   "Thanks," Matt said softly.

   "I don't believe you could be nasty," she said.

   "Just thoughtless and crude," he added, a dejected look on his face.

   Erika had things she could say but hesitated, anxious to see what Matt
would do.  She did have one thing she was wondering about.

   "This is a little awkward but I'm curious  -""

   Matt interrupted, "About why I talked the stupid thousand dollar stuff
and then asked you to meet me for breakfast?"

   "Just the breakfast invite but, yeah."

   He shook his head.  "A little too much wine, an inflated opinion of how
clever I was and, finally, a hint of sincerity." He met her eyes.

   "I wondered for a few seconds but your face gave you away."

   "Thank god for a readable face."

   "And here we are," she said.

   Breakfast came and they ate.  A few comments while they ate but both
were hungry and the food tasted good, particularly for Matt who had been up
since five-thirty.

   When they had finished, Matt wiped his mouth and said very tentatively,
"So, is this our first date?"

   Erika looked at him, a wry smile forming.  "No," she said.  "We just met
for breakfast."

   "Okay, fair enough.  Then, I'm asking you for a date  -" and if I need
to I'm willing to beg  -" to be arranged when we review our busy schedules.
But the sooner the better."

   She reveled in the very anxious look on his face and smiled.

   "Since I forgave you I guess I can't refuse, but I'd be interested in
having you beg.  Never had that before."

   He looked around quickly, stood up, and started to get down on one knee.

   "No, no, no," she said, nearly horrified as people were turning to look.

   Laughing, he was quickly back in his chair.  "Your face is really red
now," he said.

   "That was horrible," she said through her laughter.  But the picture of
Matt, kneeling in front of her to beg for anything was making her whole
body tingle.

   "You said you were interested in having me beg.  Just trying to
accommodate you."

   The smug grin she was getting told her more about what he was thinking
than his words could.

   "You're terrible," she giggled.

   "Since you accepted the date request and we're both adults, give me one
of those beautiful hands to hold while we sit here and talk."

   "Adults?" she questioned, as she extended her left hand toward him.

   "Sometimes I try to think on my feet ...  and don't do a very good job
of it.  If I wanted to see you blush again, I'd just say that you're so
beautiful, it sends my brain spinning and I can't think."

   She closed her eyes, feeling the crimson returning to her face.

   "I'm sure people wonder what's going on here, with my face blinking on
and off like a neon sign."

   He squeezed her hand.  "I'd just explain to them that it's me, trying to
sweep you off your feet with my stumbling banter."

   "Matt, you barely know me." As she said that, the irony of that
statement, compared with the picture of her sitting on his lap, her bare
breasts inches from his face struck her.  She quickly dismissed it, afraid
of where it might lead her.

   "I probably know more than you think.  Just from the talking we've done
and the things you've told me about yourself.  But," he said, holding up
his hand to silence whatever she was going to say, "learning more will be
fascinating."

   She couldn't agree with him more about that, and vice-versa too.

   "You're about twenty-one I'd guess."

   Why did he have to bring that up?  Things were going so well.  She had
no idea how old he was and was almost afraid to find out.  You didn't
become a capable surgeon at twenty-one.

   "No, I'm twenty," she answered hesitantly.

   "You could easily pass for twenty-five or older," he assured her.

   He was holding her left hand with his left hand and one finger of his
right was caressing the thin bracelet, just as he'd been doing last night.
She was watching, nearly hypnotized by the gentle back and forth movement
of his finger on her wrist, the simple touch of his finger warming her
heart beyond reason.  She thought that if he leaned forward to kiss her,
she'd meet him halfway.

   He raised his eyes to hers and she could see them gazing at first one of
her eyes and then the other.  He was going to say something; she could read
that in the way he was looking and thinking.

   "I was engaged once," he said quietly, still holding her eyes.  "Wow,
six years ago now." His expression didn't change.  "Bad choice  -" the
engagement, not the breaking up.  Really screwed things up.  Been doctoring
ever since, just doctoring.  Until now, until Monday, until last night,
until today." He was squeezing her hand with each of the "untils." "Do you
know what I'm saying, without me saying it?"

   "I think so," she said, searching his eyes for confirmation.

   "Think so?" he questioned, twisting his head and giving her an
inquisitive look.

   "I know what you're saying," she confirmed.  "And I'm here.  Do you know
what I'm saying?"

   "You bet." Another squeeze.

   "One condition though," she cautioned.

   "Oh shit.  What do I have to do now?"

   "It's what you have to STOP doing."

   "You mean being a jerk and stuff like that?"

   "Well, yes, of course.  But if you keep coming to the club, you have to
stop the extra tipping.  You can tip for the dinner service, reasonably,
but not the other things, which will be my way of tipping you."

   "Erika, that isn't right.  It's like your education fund."

   "No, if we're dating, and you just asked me for a date so we are, then
tipping for those things just wouldn't feel right."

   "Ugh, I guess I see where you're coming from.  I agree, on one
condition."

   "This is turning into a negotiation session."

   "That's how we start I guess, getting everything in place right from the
beginning."

   "What's your condition?" She tried to look disgusted but wasn't very
successful.

   "I love this little bracelet.  It just fascinates me, partly because
your wrist is underneath it.  But it's so fine and delicate that it will
eventually break and you'll lose it.  So, you take it and put it in a
little box and stash it away where it won't get lost.  I will get you a
first-date present, a new bracelet with the letter "E" attached."

   "Matt, come on.  You don't have to do that."

   "Did I have to ask you for a date?"

   A hesitation.  "No, of course not."

   "Then why did I do it."

   "Hell if I know," she teased.  "Sorry.  Because you wanted to and I get
what you're saying."

   "Good.  I still have an hour and you don't work till evening.  East
Morrow Mall?"

   "There's no sense disagreeing is there?"

   "Nope."

   Coats on, they headed for the parking lot.

   "I'll drive if that's okay," he said.

   "Fine.  My car's a little tentative sometimes."

   "I'm right over here," he said, gesturing to a sleek and low silver car.

   "What's that?" she asked, eyes wide.

   "It's a Porsche 911 Targa, but 911 Targa may not mean anything to you.
Does it?" he laughed.

   "It will a little later when I look it up on the internet.  What year?"

   "Smartypants, huh.  It's a 2017."

   "How fast does it go?"

   "Depends on how fast I want to go and who's with me."

   "If I'm with you, how fast?"

   "We'll soon find out I guess." He noticed that Erika looked a little
hesitant "I'm taking good care of you, so not very fast.  I want to be sure
you last to our first date, whenever that is.  But, it can clip off one
seventy-five on the right road."

   Matt opened the door and helped a rather long Erika wind herself into
the low passenger seat of the Porsche.  Matt went around the car and slid
down into his seat.

   "Before we do anything more, let's trade cell numbers," Matt said,
pulling his phone from his back pocket.  Erika got hers out as well.  They
each recited their numbers, tapping the other's into their phone.

   They drove to the mall, and only one time did Matt hit the accelerator,
pinning Erika against the seat.  At eighty he let off and the rest of the
trip was uneventful, Erika noticing that they got lots of looks from cars
they passed, and that passed them.

   At the mall, they went to Doyle's Jewelry Store.  Since she had
purchased her two bracelets at Doyle's, she headed for that counter, only
to have Matt take hold of her arm and pull her in a different direction.

   "Matt, no.  Those are gold and way too expensive." She started back
toward the other display case but Matt blocked her path.  "Matt," she said
again, very sternly.

   "Pick one," he said.  "And pick the one you like the very best with no
thought to anything else.  Remember, you put a condition on getting this
bracelet ...  the no extra tip thing." She feigned a glare at him, but
sighed and began looking at the bracelets.  She quickly saw the one she
wanted and cringed when she saw the price.

   "Hi there, may I help you two?" the man in the suit said.  "I'm Barry
Doyle," he squinted at Matt, "Dr.  Kinghorn."

   "You been here long?" Matt asked, looking around.

   "About two weeks now."

   "I see you have security too." Matt nodded toward the back of the store.

   "Officer Timson.  I feel much better when she's around." He smiled at
the female police officer standing on the other side of the counter.  "I
closed the downtown store and moved here.  Too many alarms downtown, right,
Officer Timson?"

   The laugh Barry got from Officer Timson told Erika and Matt that there
was more to that story than they had just heard.

   Erika pointed out the bracelet she liked.  Barry removed it from the
display case and carefully put it on her wrist after first removing the
small bracelet that was there.

   "Beautiful," he said.  "Eileen, look at this."

   Matt nudged Erika who had picked up on what had been said.

   "Very pretty," Officer Timson ...  Eileen ...  said.

   Matt and Barry moved to the other side of the counter to complete
everything.

   "A very handsome doctor, isn't he?" Eileen said.

   "Barry seems very nice too," Erika countered, watching Eileen's face.

   Eileen looked at her and smiled.  "More than very nice," she said
quietly.

   "So is Matt," Erika added.

   Eileen smiled and moved around the counter as Matt was headed back to
Erika.

   "Thank you," Erika said.  Before she realized he was moving he had
kissed her.

   "You're very welcome," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of
the store.

   * * * * *

   Erika was working the six to eleven shift today and it was a very quiet
time with three men talking to her like they wished it was after eleven,
and "cuddles" were possible.  When she finished the shift, she stopped in
the front where she knew Barry had her pay.

   "So, your first regular paycheck.  How was the week?"

   "I could never have imagined," she said, amazement filling her face.

   "Here's your check," he said, holding it toward her.  "You want to
guess?"

   Please, no." she said, waving her hand.  "I'm afraid to."

   He laughed.  "How does two thousand two-hundred-twenty-five dollars
sound?"

   "Oh my gosh." She was staring at Zack, eyes wide.  She couldn't keep
from calculating in her mind what she might have made at Winegardner's had
she worked there.  Her shift would probably have been six hours rather than
eight, so sixty dollars a day and three hundred dollars a week.  For the
five weeks, fifteen hundred dollars.  She had made way more than that in
her first week at Winebrenner's.

   She had already begun to think about something else.  If she had a date
with Matt, and then another and so on, how comfortable would she be sitting
on a stranger's lap with bare breasts, particularly if the stranger decided
he wanted a squeeze or two.  She wanted to save the squeezes for Matt if he
wanted them.  She knew that sitting on Matt's lap with her bare breasts
would cause a reaction that she couldn't avoid and that would be very
obvious to him.  Depending on what happened between now and then, that
might not be bad at all.  He might enjoy it.

   She had to stop thinking about it as the reaction was taking place right
now.

   "You looked at the weather forecast?" Zack asked.

   "No, but it looks nasty outside."

   "They're predicting a blizzard for this evening." He was looking at her.

   She was a little alarmed at what Zack had said.  "So, you're thinking it
might be a slow night?"

   "Yeah, for sure.  Already had several cancellations.  If you want to
play it safe and bug out for tonight, that's fine with me."

   She looked at Zack and then out the door.  It was already dark outside
and she could hear the sound of the wind, already beginning a gentle howl.

   "Okay," she said.  "If you're sure that's okay with you I'll head home."

   "See ya," Zack said.  I'll call you if things are still bad by Monday."

   "Thanks." Erika was quickly out the door and to the parking lot, the
wind tearing at her coat.  She was glad she wasn't dressed in her Santa
Belle outfit.  She sat in the car debating, then pulled out her phone.  A
couple of punches and she was sending a text, smiling to herself that she
was doing it.

   Not working tonight due to blizzard.  What are you up to?

   In seconds her phone rang.

   "No kidding," Matt said, sounding very pleased.

   "No kidding.  I'm sitting here in the parking lot, trying to decide what
to do."

   There were a few seconds of silence.  "You like pizza?"

   "Who doesn't?"

   "I'm through and ready to head home.  One surgery was canceled  -"
weather you know." He laughed.  "Do you know where Weatherly Road is?"

   "Yeah, about."

   "I live at 1267, just east of Broad.  What kind of pizza?"

   "Pepperoni and sausage are fine.  So wait, are you asking me to meet you
at your house?"

   "Erika, you're so proper, I love it.  Yes, I am asking that, and pray
you'll consent to my request."

   She couldn't let him get by with that without responding.  "Yes, I'm
consenting, Dr.  Jerk." She held her breath, waiting for his reply.

   A howl of laughter from the phone.  "I'll get the pizza and have
everything ready when you get there.  Dr.  Jerk.  I'm getting a new name
tag made." More laughter.  "And when you're outside, call or text.  I'll
put the garage door up and you can park inside."

   "Okay."

   Park inside ...  for how long?  A couple of deep breaths.

   "Starting to snow.  And pretty hard," she said.

   "Better hurry then.  See you in a few."

   "On the way," she replied, laying the phone down and starting the car.

   By the time she found Matt's house, it was getting very difficult to
see; the headlights just reflecting off the heavy snowfall and blotting out
the road.  She was fortunate that she knew exactly where Weatherly Road was
and she spotted the house, the number barely visible on the curbside
mailbox.  The porch light was on and the garage door open.  She carefully
pulled inside and the door came down.  All sorts of hidden significance in
that but she wasn't quite ready to go there.

   She climbed out of the car to Matt's greeting from the open door into
the house.  She smiled at the sight of her Chevrolet sitting beside his
sleek Porsche.  She wondered if the contrast covered more than just their
cars.

   But the smell of hot pizza was drawing her and, as she headed for the
couch, his arms were suddenly around her, giving her a very welcoming hug.

   "Glad you made it safely.  I worried about you." He released her. 
"Pizza is over by the couch.  What do you drink?"

   "Diet anything," she replied, digging into her first piece of pizza. 
"And I know.  Why drink diet when you're gorging yourself on pizza?"

   "I didn't say a thing.  Whatever you do, you do it well because you are
gorgeous."

   She decided that Matt wasn't wasting any time with preliminaries, which
made her a little nervous since she still didn't know what her reactions
might be.

   He brought her a Diet Coke and had a Mountain Dew for himself.

   "Doctors run on caffeine and nervous energy," he said, holding the
Mountain Dew aloft.

   He sat down next to her, his leg against hers, grabbed a piece of pizza
and the TV remote, switching on channel one, the local news and weather
channel.

   "Good timing," Matt said as they could see the weather just beginning.

   "Better have at least two days' supply of food on hand," the weatherman
said.  "Looks like we should be getting at least eighteen to twenty-four
inches, possibly more, tonight.  Plus, with the thirty-mile-per-hour winds,
there's going to be a lot of drifting as well.  The temperature will be
dropping a little below twenty, so not a good night to be outside."

   Matt looked at Erika.  "Looks like you're going to be spending at least
tonight with me." He followed that with an evil-sounding, cackling laugh.

   "Matt, we haven't even had our first date yet."

   "Yes, we have.  Or yes, we are.  I invited you here for pizza and that
counts."

   "No it doesn't," she said smugly.  "We've got to go out somewhere for it
to count."

   "Let's go then.  Snow's not too deep yet.  We can find someplace open."
He'd decided if she could torment him, he'd work a little on her as well.

   "Sit down," she said, sounding disgusted but unable to keep from
grinning.  "I guess this can count."

   "Good," he said.  "So what do you allow on first dates." His turn to
grin at her.

   "What?"

   "Just checking.  Most girls have stuff they'll do on the first date,
then the second, the third.  You know.  You probably do too."

   He was giggling as her cheeks were obviously reddening.

   "I guess you'll just have to wait and find out," she said, taking
another bite of pizza, wondering just what she would do on a first date
with Dr.  Matthew Kinghorn.  She was afraid she knew but blocked those
thoughts from her mind.

   "Lord I love it when you blush," he said, getting up and heading to the
big front window, Erika right behind.

   "Can't even see the street," he said, shielding his eyes against the
bright light in the living room.

   Erika was beside him, straining to see outside when she felt Matt's kiss
on her cheek.  She turned toward him, their faces inches apart.

   "Is that allowed on the first date?" he asked softly, his blue eyes
sparkling in the light reflected off the window.

   "I think so," she said, smiling.  "So's this," she added, leaning
forward and planting a light kiss on his lips.  "Listen," she added, her
ear toward the window.

   The wind was howling, the snow making clicking sounds against the glass.

   "Yeah, and you heard the weatherman talk about drifting.  If we have two
feet of snow, there will be a four-foot deep drift in front of the garage
door."

   "You trying to convince me I'm stuck here with you for the night."

   "It's the snow that should be convincing you."

   "I think I could still make it home.  Not that deep yet," she teased,
not willing to admit, even to herself, that spending the night with Matt
was beyond what she could have imagined even earlier today.

   Matt just stared at her before he started laughing.  "Come on.  I bet
you'd like a Hallmark movie."

   "Oh, Lord.  They're so corny, and the acting isn't the best.  Having
said that, let me mention that I watch them every chance I get ...  and cry
for the last two minutes.  Mother says I inherited that from my dad."

   "So, your dad's an emotional guy then?"

   Erika looked away, out the window.  She was silent for long seconds that
seemed to hang in the air between them.

   "He was," she said very softly.  "At least that's what Mom told me.  I
never knew him; he was gone before I was three." She felt Matt's arms wrap
around her, his head against her hair.  It was somehow very soothing.

   "Sorry," he said simply, his holding onto her much more precious than
anything he could say.

   "Let's watch that movie," she said, taking hold of his hand.

   Matt searched the menu on the screen, found the Hallmark channel, and
switched.

   "Obviously not used to watching Hallmark," she giggled.

   "Don't watch much of anything."

   "How many hours a week do you work?"

   "Varies.  Usually sixty-five or seventy."

   She looked puzzled.

   "Go on," he encouraged, seeing her expression.

   "You come to the club ..."

   "I'm a little flexible with my hours.  The three a.m.  shift at the
hospital knows me." He smiled at her.  "Plus, the food's so good I hate to
miss it."

   She was thinking and calculating, but it didn't make sense.  She eyed
him curiously.

   "So, did you ...?

   "I made time," he said, knowing where she was headed, "after that first
night I saw you." He shrugged.

   "Why me?" she asked, knowing it sounded silly, but also knowing how much
the other girls wanted Dr.  Matt and how they chased him  -" and had chased
him for several years.

   "I've never been to the club three times in one week before." His eyes
bored into hers, sending a message she couldn't misunderstand.

   She could feel her skin heating, tingling, her nipples hardening, that
very unfamiliar feeling between her legs.  She didn't know what would
happen next but she was ready for it, whatever it was.  She bit her lower
lip and was sure her nose was flaring with her breathing.  She wanted to be
grabbed, held ...  and whatever happened after that.  She'd done some of
that before, but she'd never felt like this.

   "Would you like some wine?" he asked, a total change of expression on
his face.

   She was ready for anything ...  but that.  What the hell?

   "Okay," she said huskily, her voice still where the rest of her had been
seconds ago.

   "Chardonnay, of course," he said, moving past her and toward what had to
be the kitchen.  She heard a refrigerator door open and close, a cabinet
door bang, the tinkle of glassware bumping together.  He was back, handing
her a glass of the light amber liquid.

   She took a sip, thinking of what he had said and what he had done ... 
or rather hadn't done.  She was ready.  She wanted him.  The look he'd
given her said he wanted her.  Another sip of wine, questions whirring
through her brain.  What had happened?  What had changed?  Was it her?  She
drained her glass to his surprised look and held it out for more.

   "Um," he said softly.  "That was a surprise.  You want some more?"

   "Hell yes," she answered, sure the look on her face wasn't too inviting.

   "What's wrong?"

   "I didn't say anything was wrong, did I?" She looked away, out the
window at the blowing snow ...  and the cold air swirling there.

   He stepped closer.  "You didn't have to."

   She was thinking.  "What time is it?"

   Matt glanced at his watch.  "Five after eleven."

   "Perfect," she snapped.  "Bring me that glass of wine and I'll have a
surprise for you." If Matt was backing away for whatever reason, maybe she
had something that might encourage him.

   He was quickly back, handed her the glass of wine, looking at her with a
very puzzled countenance.

   She closed her eyes, feeling the crimson returning to her face.

   "I'm sure people wonder what's going on here, with my face blinking on
and off like a neon sign."

   He squeezed her hand.  "I'd just explain to them that it's me, trying to
sweep you off your feet with my stumbling banter."

   "Matt, you barely know me." As she said that, the irony of that
statement, compared with the picture of her sitting on his lap, her bare
breasts inches from his face struck her.  She quickly dismissed it, afraid
of where it might lead her.

   "I probably know more than you think.  Just from the talking we've done
and the things you've told me about yourself.  But," he said, holding up
his hand to silence whatever she was going to say, "learning more will be
fascinating."

   She couldn't agree with him more about that, and vice-versa too.

   "You're about twenty-one I'd guess."

   Why did he have to bring that up?  Things were going so well.  She had
no idea how old he was and was almost afraid to find out.  You didn't
become a capable surgeon at twenty-one.

   "No, I'm twenty," she answered hesitantly.

   "You could easily pass for twenty-five or older," he assured her.

   He was holding her left hand with his left hand and one finger of his
right was caressing the thin bracelet, just as he'd been doing last night.
She was watching, nearly hypnotized by the gentle back and forth movement
of his finger on her wrist, the simple touch of his finger warming her
heart beyond reason.  She thought that if he leaned forward to kiss her,
she'd meet him halfway.

   He raised his eyes to hers and she could see them gazing at first one of
her eyes and then the other.  He was going to say something; she could read
that in the way he was looking and thinking.

   "I was engaged once," he said quietly, still holding her eyes.  "Wow,
six years ago now." His expression didn't change.  "Bad choice  -" the
engagement, not the breaking up.  Really screwed things up.  Been doctoring
ever since, just doctoring.  Until now, until Monday, until last night,
until today." He was squeezing her hand with each of the "untils." "Do you
know what I'm saying, without me saying it?"

   "I think so," she said, searching his eyes for confirmation.

   "Think so?" he questioned, twisting his head and giving her an
inquisitive look.

   "I know what you're saying," she confirmed.  "And I'm here.  Do you know
what I'm saying?"

   "You bet." Another squeeze.

   "One condition though," she cautioned.

   "Oh shit.  What do I have to do now?"

   "It's what you have to STOP doing."

   "You mean being a jerk and stuff like that?"

   "Well, yes, of course.  But if you keep coming to the club, you have to
stop the extra tipping.  You can tip for the dinner service, reasonably,
but not the other things, which will be my way of tipping you."

   "Erika, that isn't right.  It's like your education fund."

   "No, if we're dating, and you just asked me for a date so we are, then
tipping for those things just wouldn't feel right."

   "Ugh, I guess I see where you're coming from.  I agree, on one
condition."

   "This is turning into a negotiation session."

   "That's how we start I guess, getting everything in place right from the
beginning."

   "What's your condition?" She tried to look disgusted but wasn't very
successful.

   "I love this little bracelet.  It just fascinates me, partly because
your wrist is underneath it.  But it's so fine and delicate that it will
eventually break and you'll lose it.  So, you take it and put it in a
little box and stash it away where it won't get lost.  I will get you a
first-date present, a new bracelet with the letter "E" attached."

   "Matt, come on.  You don't have to do that."

   "Did I have to ask you for a date?"

   A hesitation.  "No, of course not."

   "Then why did I do it."

   "Hell if I know," she teased.  "Sorry.  Because you wanted to and I get
what you're saying."

   "Good.  I still have an hour and you don't work till evening.  East
Morrow Mall?"

   "There's no sense disagreeing is there?"

   "Nope."

   Coats on, they headed for the parking lot.

   "I'll drive if that's okay," he said.

   "Fine.  My car's a little tentative sometimes."

   "I'm right over here," he said, gesturing to a sleek and low silver car.

   "What's that?" she asked, eyes wide.

   "It's a Porsche 911 Targa, but 911 Targa may not mean anything to you.
Does it?" he laughed.

   "It will a little later when I look it up on the internet.  What year?"

   "Smartypants, huh.  It's a 2017."

   "How fast does it go?"

   "Depends on how fast I want to go and who's with me."

   "If I'm with you, how fast?"

   "We'll soon find out I guess." He noticed that Erika looked a little
hesitant "I'm taking good care of you, so not very fast.  I want to be sure
you last to our first date, whenever that is.  But, it can clip off one
seventy-five on the right road."

   Matt opened the door and helped a rather long Erika wind herself into
the low passenger seat of the Porsche.  Matt went around the car and slid
down into his seat.

   "Before we do anything more, let's trade cell numbers," Matt said,
pulling his phone from his back pocket.  Erika got hers out as well.  They
each recited their numbers, tapping the other's into their phone.

   They drove to the mall, and only one time did Matt hit the accelerator,
pinning Erika against the seat.  At eighty he let off and the rest of the
trip was uneventful, Erika noticing that they got lots of looks from cars
they passed, and that passed them.

   At the mall, they went to Doyle's Jewelry Store.  Since she had
purchased her two bracelets at Doyle's, she headed for that counter, only
to have Matt take hold of her arm and pull her in a different direction.

   "Matt, no.  Those are gold and way too expensive." She started back
toward the other display case but Matt blocked her path.  "Matt," she said
again, very sternly.

   "Pick one," he said.  "And pick the one you like the very best with no
thought to anything else.  Remember, you put a condition on getting this
bracelet ...  the no extra tip thing." She feigned a glare at him, but
sighed and began looking at the bracelets.  She quickly saw the one she
wanted and cringed when she saw the price.

   "Hi there, may I help you two?" the man in the suit said.  "I'm Barry
Doyle," he squinted at Matt, "Dr.  Kinghorn."

   "You been here long?" Matt asked, looking around.

   "About two weeks now."

   "I see you have security too." Matt nodded toward the back of the store.

   "Officer Timson.  I feel much better when she's around." He smiled at
the female police officer standing on the other side of the counter.  "I
closed the downtown store and moved here.  Too many alarms downtown, right,
Officer Timson?"

   The laugh Barry got from Officer Timson told Erika and Matt that there
was more to that story than they had just heard.

   Erika pointed out the bracelet she liked.  Barry removed it from the
display case and carefully put it on her wrist after first removing the
small bracelet that was there.

   "Beautiful," he said.  "Eileen, look at this."

   Matt nudged Erika who had picked up on what had been said.

   "Very pretty," Officer Timson ...  Eileen ...  said.

   Matt and Barry moved to the other side of the counter to complete
everything.

   "A very handsome doctor, isn't he?" Eileen said.

   "Barry seems very nice too," Erika countered, watching Eileen's face.

   Eileen looked at her and smiled.  "More than very nice," she said
quietly.

   "So is Matt," Erika added.

   Eileen smiled and moved around the counter as Matt was headed back to
Erika.

   "Thank you," Erika said.  Before she realized he was moving he had
kissed her.

   "You're very welcome," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of
the store.

   * * * * *

   Erika was working the six to eleven shift today and it was a very quiet
time with three men talking to her like they wished it was after eleven,
and "cuddles" were possible.  When she finished the shift, she stopped in
the front where she knew Barry had her pay.

   "So, your first regular paycheck.  How was the week?"

   "I could never have imagined," she said, amazement filling her face.

   "Here's your check," he said, holding it toward her.  "You want to
guess?"

   Please, no." she said, waving her hand.  "I'm afraid to."

   He laughed.  "How does two thousand two-hundred-twenty-five dollars
sound?"

   "Oh my gosh." She was staring at Zack, eyes wide.  She couldn't keep
from calculating in her mind what she might have made at Winegardner's had
she worked there.  Her shift would probably have been six hours rather than
eight, so sixty dollars a day and three hundred dollars a week.  For the
five weeks, fifteen hundred dollars.  She had made way more than that in
her first week at Winebrenner's.

   She had already begun to think about something else.  If she had a date
with Matt, and then another and so on, how comfortable would she be sitting
on a stranger's lap with bare breasts, particularly if the stranger decided
he wanted a squeeze or two.  She wanted to save the squeezes for Matt if he
wanted them.  She knew that sitting on Matt's lap with her bare breasts
would cause a reaction that she couldn't avoid and that would be very
obvious to him.  Depending on what happened between now and then, that
might not be bad at all.  He might enjoy it.

   She had to stop thinking about it as the reaction was taking place right
now.

   "You looked at the weather forecast?" Zack asked.

   "No, but it looks nasty outside."

   "They're predicting a blizzard for this evening." He was looking at her.

   She was a little alarmed at what Zack had said.  "So, you're thinking it
might be a slow night?"

   "Yeah, for sure.  Already had several cancellations.  If you want to
play it safe and bug out for tonight, that's fine with me."

   She looked at Zack and then out the door.  It was already dark outside
and she could hear the sound of the wind, already beginning a gentle howl.

   "Okay," she said.  "If you're sure that's okay with you I'll head home."

   "See ya," Zack said.  I'll call you if things are still bad by Monday."

   "Thanks." Erika was quickly out the door and to the parking lot, the
wind tearing at her coat.  She was glad she wasn't dressed in her Santa
Belle outfit.  She sat in the car debating, then pulled out her phone.  A
couple of punches and she was sending a text, smiling to herself that she
was doing it.

   Not working tonight due to blizzard.  What are you up to?

   In seconds her phone rang.

   "No kidding," Matt said, sounding very pleased.

   "No kidding.  I'm sitting here in the parking lot, trying to decide what
to do."

   There were a few seconds of silence.  "You like pizza?"

   "Who doesn't?"

   "I'm through and ready to head home.  One surgery was canceled  -"
weather you know." He laughed.  "Do you know where Weatherly Road is?"

   "Yeah, about."

   "I live at 1267, just east of Broad.  What kind of pizza?"

   "Pepperoni and sausage are fine.  So wait, are you asking me to meet you
at your house?"

   "Erika, you're so proper, I love it.  Yes, I am asking that, and pray
you'll consent to my request."

   She couldn't let him get by with that without responding.  "Yes, I'm
consenting, Dr.  Jerk." She held her breath, waiting for his reply.

   A howl of laughter from the phone.  "I'll get the pizza and have
everything ready when you get there.  Dr.  Jerk.  I'm getting a new name
tag made." More laughter.  "And when you're outside, call or text.  I'll
put the garage door up and you can park inside."

   "Okay."

   Park inside ...  for how long?  A couple of deep breaths.

   "Starting to snow.  And pretty hard," she said.

   "Better hurry then.  See you in a few."

   "On the way," she replied, laying the phone down and starting the car.

   By the time she found Matt's house, it was getting very difficult to
see; the headlights just reflecting off the heavy snowfall and blotting out
the road.  She was fortunate that she knew exactly where Weatherly Road was
and she spotted the house, the number barely visible on the curbside
mailbox.  The porch light was on and the garage door open.  She carefully
pulled inside and the door came down.  All sorts of hidden significance in
that but she wasn't quite ready to go there.

   She climbed out of the car to Matt's greeting from the open door into
the house.  She smiled at the sight of her Chevrolet sitting beside his
sleek Porsche.  She wondered if the contrast covered more than just their
cars.

   But the smell of hot pizza was drawing her and, as she headed for the
couch, his arms were suddenly around her, giving her a very welcoming hug.

   "Glad you made it safely.  I worried about you." He released her. 
"Pizza is over by the couch.  What do you drink?"

   "Diet anything," she replied, digging into her first piece of pizza. 
"And I know.  Why drink diet when you're gorging yourself on pizza?"

   "I didn't say a thing.  Whatever you do, you do it well because you are
gorgeous."

   She decided that Matt wasn't wasting any time with preliminaries, which
made her a little nervous since she still didn't know what her reactions
might be.

   He brought her a Diet Coke and had a Mountain Dew for himself.

   "Doctors run on caffeine and nervous energy," he said, holding the
Mountain Dew aloft.

   He sat down next to her, his leg against hers, grabbed a piece of pizza
and the TV remote, switching on channel one, the local news and weather
channel.

   "Good timing," Matt said as they could see the weather just beginning.

   "Better have at least two days' supply of food on hand," the weatherman
said.  "Looks like we should be getting at least eighteen to twenty-four
inches, possibly more, tonight.  Plus, with the thirty-mile-per-hour winds,
there's going to be a lot of drifting as well.  The temperature will be
dropping a little below twenty, so not a good night to be outside."

   Matt looked at Erika.  "Looks like you're going to be spending at least
tonight with me." He followed that with an evil-sounding, cackling laugh.

   "Matt, we haven't even had our first date yet."

   "Yes, we have.  Or yes, we are.  I invited you here for pizza and that
counts."

   "No it doesn't," she said smugly.  "We've got to go out somewhere for it
to count."

   "Let's go then.  Snow's not too deep yet.  We can find someplace open."
He'd decided if she could torment him, he'd work a little on her as well.

   "Sit down," she said, sounding disgusted but unable to keep from
grinning.  "I guess this can count."

   "Good," he said.  "So what do you allow on first dates." His turn to
grin at her.

   "What?"

   "Just checking.  Most girls have stuff they'll do on the first date,
then the second, the third.  You know.  You probably do too."

   He was giggling as her cheeks were obviously reddening.

   "I guess you'll just have to wait and find out," she said, taking
another bite of pizza, wondering just what she would do on a first date
with Dr.  Matthew Kinghorn.  She was afraid she knew but blocked those
thoughts from her mind.

   "Lord I love it when you blush," he said, getting up and heading to the
big front window, Erika right behind.

   "Can't even see the street," he said, shielding his eyes against the
bright light in the living room.

   Erika was beside him, straining to see outside when she felt Matt's kiss
on her cheek.  She turned toward him, their faces inches apart.

   "Is that allowed on the first date?" he asked softly, his blue eyes
sparkling in the light reflected off the window.

   "I think so," she said, smiling.  "So's this," she added, leaning
forward and planting a light kiss on his lips.  "Listen," she added, her
ear toward the window.

   The wind was howling, the snow making clicking sounds against the glass.

   "Yeah, and you heard the weatherman talk about drifting.  If we have two
feet of snow, there will be a four-foot deep drift in front of the garage
door."

   "You trying to convince me I'm stuck here with you for the night."

   "It's the snow that should be convincing you."

   "I think I could still make it home.  Not that deep yet," she teased,
not willing to admit, even to herself, that spending the night with Matt
was beyond what she could have imagined even earlier today.

   Matt just stared at her before he started laughing.  "Come on.  I bet
you'd like a Hallmark movie."

   "Oh, Lord.  They're so corny, and the acting isn't the best.  Having
said that, let me mention that I watch them every chance I get ...  and cry
for the last two minutes.  Mother says I inherited that from my dad."

   "So, your dad's an emotional guy then?"

   Erika looked away, out the window.  She was silent for long seconds that
seemed to hang in the air between them.

   "He was," she said very softly.  "At least that's what Mom told me.  I
never knew him; he was gone before I was three." She felt Matt's arms wrap
around her, his head against her hair.  It was somehow very soothing.

   "Sorry," he said simply, his holding onto her much more precious than
anything he could say.

   "Let's watch that movie," she said, taking hold of his hand.

   Matt searched the menu on the screen, found the Hallmark channel, and
switched.

   "Obviously not used to watching Hallmark," she giggled.

   "Don't watch much of anything."

   "How many hours a week do you work?"

   "Varies.  Usually sixty-five or seventy."

   She looked puzzled.

   "Go on," he encouraged, seeing her expression.

   "You come to the club ..."

   "I'm a little flexible with my hours.  The three a.m.  shift at the
hospital knows me." He smiled at her.  "Plus, the food's so good I hate to
miss it."

   She was thinking and calculating, but it didn't make sense.  She eyed
him curiously.

   "So, did you ...?

   "I made time," he said, knowing where she was headed, "after that first
night I saw you." He shrugged.

   "Why me?" she asked, knowing it sounded silly, but also knowing how much
the other girls wanted Dr.  Matt and how they chased him  -" and had chased
him for several years.

   "I've never been to the club three times in one week before." His eyes
bored into hers, sending a message she couldn't misunderstand.

   She could feel her skin heating, tingling, her nipples hardening, that
very unfamiliar feeling between her legs.  She didn't know what would
happen next but she was ready for it, whatever it was.  She bit her lower
lip and was sure her nose was flaring with her breathing.  She wanted to be
grabbed, held ...  and whatever happened after that.  She'd done some of
that before, but she'd never felt like this.

   "Would you like some wine?" he asked, a total change of expression on
his face.

   She was ready for anything ...  but that.  What the hell?

   "Okay," she said huskily, her voice still where the rest of her had been
seconds ago.

   "Chardonnay, of course," he said, moving past her and toward what had to
be the kitchen.  She heard a refrigerator door open and close, a cabinet
door bang, the tinkle of glassware bumping together.  He was back, handing
her a glass of the light amber liquid.

   She took a sip, thinking of what he had said and what he had done ... 
or rather hadn't done.  She was ready.  She wanted him.  The look he'd
given her said he wanted her.  Another sip of wine, questions whirring
through her brain.  What had happened?  What had changed?  Was it her?  She
drained her glass to his surprised look and held it out for more.

   "Um," he said softly.  "That was a surprise.  You want some more?"

   "Hell yes," she answered, sure the look on her face wasn't too inviting.

   "What's wrong?"

   "I didn't say anything was wrong, did I?" She looked away, out the
window at the blowing snow ...  and the cold air swirling there.

   He stepped closer.  "You didn't have to."

   She was thinking.  "What time is it?"

   Matt glanced at his watch.  "Five after eleven."

   "Perfect," she snapped.  "Bring me that glass of wine and I'll have a
surprise for you." If Matt was backing away for whatever reason, maybe she
had something that might encourage him.

   He was quickly back, handed her the glass of wine, looking at her with a
very puzzled countenance.

   Maybe I'll be full of more than that," she answered seductively.

   "Oh, shit," was his only reply.

   * * * * *