by Meg Ripley
Now, I just need the hotel to be just as awesome and this night will be perfect!
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said to myself, pulling up to the Inn. The place was practically a mansion. There seemed to be at least three floors and I counted fourteen windows on the second and third floors alone. When I got out of the car, there was a man waiting for me wearing black slacks, a white button-down shirt and a black vest. He was older and bald, with a full white beard.
“You must be Ms. Dupont. Welcome to Bass Cottage Inn! Let me help you with your bags.” He walked over to the trunk that I had popped open and grabbed my suitcases. “My name is Frank, and I will be showing you to your room.”
This man was probably the most chipper person I’d ever met in my life.
“You will be staying in the Verbena room, which is located on the second floor in the left wing,” he said, walking up to the beautiful stained-glass doors. As we passed through the doorway, I peered around the gorgeous foyer as he continued, “To your left and right are several sitting areas for you to enjoy. Feel free to help yourself to any of the books we have on display over here on the left. Look past the shelves and you’ll notice a grand piano. Do you play?”
“Um, no,” I responded, too caught up in my surroundings. Everything was decorated in rich shades of mahogany and taupe with gorgeous ornate designs; I couldn’t wait to see my room. We climbed one flight of stairs, heading to the left side of the building. He led me past several sets of doors, all the way down to the far end of the corridor.
“Well, here we are!” he exclaimed, opening the door to the room and setting my luggage on the rack. When I entered, my jaw hit the floor. The room was decorated in the same colors as downstairs, but with navy and slate accents. There was a generously-sized leather sofa, a regal armchair, and a king-sized canopy bed with a gas fireplace next to it.
“Although it seems you have come alone, your bathroom features a two-person jetted tub which will be through that door.” He gestured to the right of the room. “Breakfast is served from 8 to 10am, should you wish to join us, and it is complimentary with your stay. Feel free to order anything you’d like.”
Free breakfast—not just continental crap—and a jacuzzi? This place is unreal.
“And with that, I’ll leave you to enjoy your accommodations. Do ring us downstairs if you need anything,” Frank smiled and left the room, leaving the keys on the coffee table.
As soon as he left, I ran straight for the bed and threw myself onto the plush down duvet.
“Wow,” I said aloud, gazing around the room in awe. Is this what getting field work is like?
Just then, my phone rang. Who could that be?
I grabbed my phone and didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID, but decided to answer.
“Hello?”
“Is your room to your liking?” I heard the woman’s voice from earlier on the other line.
“It’s amazing. How long can I stay here?”
“As long as you want, honestly. The government will pay for it until your job is done, as long as you keep me updated on your progress,” she replied bluntly.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all,” she said flatly. “I will submit a report stating that you have arrived here safely. I expect your next update in one week’s time. That should be plenty for you to at least plant the ticks.”
“Understood,” I replied. I was beginning to realize I was never going to get on this woman’s good side—if she even had one. As I opened my mouth to ask one more question, I heard the woman end our call without as much as a simple goodbye.
“Rude,” I said aloud, throwing the phone down onto the bed beside me. I stared at the ceiling, feeling even more awake than before and checked my watch. It was 9pm.
Well, it’s still so early, and it’s Friday night. Maybe I should check out the night life here in Bar Harbor?
With that, I grabbed my phone and began searching for bars in the area. Leary's Landing Irish Pub popped up and it had the best reviews, so I decided to go there. Spotting a full-length mirror in the corner, I padded over to it, wondering if I should change my outfit. Eh, it’s good enough. Besides, I just want to grab a couple of drinks and scope out the locals, I thought as I tucked my phone in my back pocket and headed for the door.
When I pulled up to the pub, it looked pretty dead inside and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to venture in, but I decided to roll the dice.
When I walked in, everyone’s eyes turned to me. There were only about eight people inside: three girls sat at the bar, looking to be in their twenties. A couple of older guys were hanging out at the other end of the bar, then, in the back corner, three relatively young guys in their mid to late twenties were gathered around a table. One had a buzzed, military-style cut and was tall and muscular. The other guy had the same build but had shortly cropped black hair and had a tan. The guy in between them is who captured my attention, though.
He had beautiful bronze skin, with short dark hair that I wanted to run my fingers through. His features were strong, and he was cleanly shaven, just how I liked ‘em. He was of Hispanic descent for sure, I just couldn’t tell from exactly where. His eyes were a light brown, almost hazel.
And they were staring directly at me.
I blushed and looked away immediately, heading toward the bar. There was a chalk board fixed to the wall featuring a list of four specialty cocktails, and my eyes scanned over the options.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.
“Uh…I’ll have the Fresh Whiskey Smash,” I decided. It was described as a shot of Irish whiskey with a shot of fresh lemon juice and a mint sugar cube in it. Sounded pretty delicious to me. If it was good, I would stick with it; I didn’t feel like dealing with a hangover in the morning.
The bartender presented the drink to me in a margarita glass, oddly; I decided to stir the drink until the ice cube melted and then took a cautious sip.
I had to admit, it was pretty delicious. I was usually a wine person, but I liked to try signature drinks when I felt adventurous. And with all that had happened that day, I was definitely feeling it.
“Um, hi there.” I heard a voice next to me and almost spit out my drink.
The gorgeous guy from the corner table had decided to come to say hello.
4
Ramon
I had all but given up on this bros’ night.
“Come on, man; you can’t be everyone’s type. That doesn’t mean you’re ugly or anything.” Trent was trying to cheer me up after a humiliating rejection from the girls at the bar.
I had gone up and tried my hand at a little small talk, asking how they were doing, what they were drinking. When I offered to buy them a round, one of them snorted, “No thanks. You’re not my type,” as the other cackled loudly.
Things like this always happened. Either the girl wasn’t interested in me, or got bored when I started talking about my interests—science, mostly. I was at the end of my rope.
“Mira, there’s no more chicas here tonight, so can we just drink and hang out? Let’s leave the matchmaking shit for another night,” I said, raising my glass of Guinness.
“Alright, my friend. But if another girl walks in and you’re interested, you should say something,” Trent said, raising his drink in return. Knox clinked glasses with us and we all took long pulls of our drinks.
I paused, looking around quickly. “Do you guys hear that?” I asked, trying to read everyone’s lips in the bar. I couldn’t figure out where that sound was coming from.
“Hear what, man?” Trent and Knox were on guard now, sweeping the bar as well.
“Whistling. Someone’s whistling.” I tried focusing really hard on the sound, but no one had their lips pursed or anything.
“I don’t hear anything,” Knox said, staring at me.
Trent laughed, slapping me on the back. “The booze getting to you already, bud?”
“Haha. Yeah, maybe.” I l
aughed nervously. The whistling grew fainter and then it disappeared.
Did I just imagine it?
My eyes swept around the bar idly, and that’s when I spotted her. She had a black, bone-straight, shoulder length bob with dark eyes to match. She was pale with full lips and a slender frame. She was Asian, I was sure, I just couldn’t tell from where. There was something else in there…
She had captured my attention completely. And when my eyes moved back to hers, we connected, and I felt a jolt of electricity run through me as her lips parted and her checks flushed. She turned around quickly and practically ran up to the bar. My eyes followed her every step, peeping a nice round bottom that would fit into my hands perfectly. She ordered a drink and took a sip.
I wish those were my lips instead…I thought. There was something about her that was just so goddamn sexy.
“You should go talk to her,” Knox said, nudging me. He must have caught me checking her out.
“Nah, I couldn’t. She’s way out of my league, hombre,” I responded, shaking my head and waving his words away. There was no way that girl would talk to me. But every fiber of my being wanted to say something to her.
“She could be thinking the same thing, Ramon. I saw her blush when you made eye contact,” Knox teased.
“The worst she can say is she isn’t interested,” Trent shrugged.
“Like I need anyone else telling me that tonight.”
Trent slapped me on the back. “Don’t be a punk, man.”
“Fine,” I agreed finally, getting up from my bar stool and downing the rest of my beer. The girl was still standing by the bar and seemed to be considering the drink she had just tasted.
What do I say to her? I thought, milling over a million and one greetings in my head. Do I say something Spanish? No, you idiot. What if she doesn’t know Spanish? Everyone knows ‘hola,’ though. Nah, better not risk it.
I went back and forth in my head as I walked up to her and she didn’t even notice me approach.
“Um…hi, there,” I finally said, running a hand through my hair nervously.
She looked up at me and her eyes widened.
“Um, hi.” I watched a deep flush blossom over her cheeks and realized that maybe she was just as nervous as I was.
“I saw you walk in and my friends hyped me up to come talk to you,” I chuckled, trying to be honest. If she was shy, I wanted to show her that I wasn’t that confident in talking to people, either.
“Do your friends make you talk to women often?” She raised her eyebrows at me. I wasn’t sure how to take the question, but I decided to be truthful.
“Yeah, they think something’s wrong with me,” I chuckled.
“Ah…cherchez la femme…” she said, taking a sip from her drink.
“You speak French?” I asked, bewildered. I hadn’t been expecting that at all.
“En effet. That’s right. I lived in France until I was seventeen. I lived with my father who was French, and he sent me to English schools. He said only knowing French would hinder my future, so he wanted me to learn in English.” She took a long swig of her drink, “I came to America for college ten years ago and I’ve been here ever since."
Wow, she’s so open about herself, I thought, and I admired that.
“So, what does it mean?”
“What?”
“I’m not sure if I can pronounce it. Cherchez la femme, was it?” It came out with a heavy Spanish accent and I cringed, fairly certain I had pronounced it incorrectly.
“That was perfect!” She giggled, and my heart skipped a beat. It was a lovely soft chime and I hoped I would be hearing it more. “It’s a saying we used to have in France. Literally, it would translate as ‘looking for women.’ The saying itself is meant to describe when a man is acting out of character. The French believe that a woman will solve his issues, so he must go out and find one. Like how your friends are doing. Who also seem to be looking over here to check on you.”
When I turned to look back the table, Trent and Knox raised their glasses to me. She raised her own in return and I chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s pretty spot on,” I agreed, as she finished her cocktail. “You happened to be in a good spot, since I needed another drink. I see you’ve finished yours, too; may I buy you another?”
Please say yes, please say yes…
“Sure!” She smiled, and my breath caught.
She is gorgeous…
“What are you drinking, might I ask?”
“The Fresh Whiskey Smash,” she said, proudly.
“Ooooh, whiskey! That’s my kind of girl!” I joked, calling the bartender over with a wave. “Can I get another Fresh Whiskey Smash for the lady and I’ll have some Jack on the rocks, please.”
“Hmmm, so you’re a Jack kind of guy?” She seemed intrigued.
“Yeah, I used to drink a lot of tequila back in Mexico, so when I got to the states and found whiskey, it grew on me. I still love tequila, though. It’ll always have a special place in my heart.” I smiled, remembering all the times I went to the bars in Mexico and they had hundreds of different tequilas. I would swear I had tried them all.
“So, you’re Mexican?”
“¡Nacido y criado!” I exclaimed, proudly. “Born and raised!”
She laughed, and I was glad she found me funny. She was enchanting—and so attractive. I hoped she was feeling the same.
“I wouldn’t have assumed you were born in France, just by looking at you.”
“My mother is Korean.”
“Can you speak Korean, too?” I asked as our drinks arrived. She grabbed hers and sipped it immediately, so I felt like I had to follow suit. As the whiskey trickled down my esophagus, it felt like a fire bursting in my chest. Man, I loved that feeling.
“No, actually. I only know what my name means. My parents are divorced, and I only lived with my dad. My mother is a diplomat and I never got to see much of her as a child.”
Mierda…Things are turning dark…Turn it around, man.
“I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” I started. “Speaking of names, I just realized that we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I’m Ramon Marquez. I work for Acadia National Park as their Resource Manager.”
I reached out my hand and she shook it.
“Pleased to meet you, Ramon. I’m Min Dupont and I work for the CDC as an entomologist.”
“An entomologist? You study bugs? That’s amazing!” This woman just got more interesting with every moment. And the fact that she was into science was such a turn on.
“And what does a resource manager such as yourself do?” She flashed that beautiful smile again.
“Well, my job entails a lot of things. I mostly focus on the biology, botany, aquatics, soil science, and geology of the park,” I stated proudly, hoping she would find my job interesting as well.
“Wow, that’s a mouthful,” she giggled. “I’ve dabbled in several different areas of science, but alas, bugs are my one true love.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a specialty. I spent all six years of school taking every science class I could sign up for and could never settle on just one thing. I can be pretty indecisive,” I admitted.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that either. Your job must never get boring.”
“Not for one minute,” I smiled.
“Yeah, me neither. There’s always new insects to discover and interesting things to learn about them.”
“So, you mentioned you know what your name means?” I asked, eager to know more about her. I didn’t want the conversation to end.
“Quick, clever, and sharp,” she said, laughing before taking another sip of her drink. “At least that’s what my parents told me.”
“Would you consider yourself to be those things?”
“Maybe…what do you think?”
Is she trying to seduce me now? Not like she had to try hard; I was already thinking about what she might look like sprawled over my bed.
“Clever, for sure. Quick and sharp? You’ll have to show me,” I responded, hoping to send a signal.
She smirked and downed her drink instantly, setting the glass on the bar. She hopped off her bar stool and started walking towards the door.
“You coming?” She turned back to look at me and my jaw dropped. This woman went from shy to a confident seductress in minutes and I was hooked. I looked over at Trent and Knox. Trent was giving me the thumbs up and Knox was motioning for me to go with her. I nodded, downed the rest of my Jack and followed her out the door.
“An Audi A8 GT? What year is this?” I gushed as we reached her car. I wasn’t sure what I expected her to drive, but it sure as hell wasn’t a sleek sports car.
“2016. Get in. I’m about to show you how quick and sharp I can be,” she declared, taking the driver’s seat. I raised my eyebrow.
Fuck yeah! I got into the passenger’s side, and it was just as sweet as I imagined it to be. How can this chica have a better car than me, man?
And sure enough, she could drive the shit out of that bad boy. We were back to her place in less than five minutes and she pulled into the parking space in one fell swoop. It looked effortless, and I was turned on immensely.
Nothing sexier than a girl who can drive a sports car, I thought to myself as I felt my member begin to harden in my pants. Down boy. Let’s get inside first.
“Quick and sharp enough for you?” she smirked.
Oh, so you’re cocky too?
“I don’t know…I might need some more examples…” I flirted. She arched a thin, black eyebrow and I chuckled. And then, without warning, her lips were pressed to mine.
My eyes widened at her sudden forwardness, but I sure as hell wasn’t complaining. I kissed her back fervently, hoping not to come off as overly eager, while also making it clear that I very much wanted more. She brought a hand up to my cheek and I was thankful I had decided to shave earlier today.
My hand went to the nearest thing it could find—her hip—and I pulled her closer toward me. Our tongues danced, and she sucked on my bottom lip. I squeezed my hand and she let out a light moan.