The Slow Seduction of Claire McDonald

Chapter 3

Our eyes met a second time and there was that blush once again; this time she smiled back briefly – her mouth a study in erotic possibilities.

I turned back to my beer – it was pretty good. I wasn’t a big drinker, but not for any particular reason. I’d just never developed a taste for booze; although my parents had offered me wine a couple of times at Thanksgiving dinners. The heavy Tuscan reds from my family’s ancestral village were a bit too dry for a teenager’s palette. I don’t smoke either – something that would have been ruinously expensive for me here in the UK, anyway. The result was that I spent a lot of my efforts on studying – computer science is my thing – and my spare time thinking about girls. After all – every man has to have his vices!

Only thinking about girls? In the past few weeks it had been that way. Since the end of an affair with the woman I thought I was falling in love with. She was over twenty years older than me, and we’d agreed it was the right thing to do. She was clear that I should meet a girl closer to my own age, and that I needed to seduce that girl in a gentle and romantic way.

It had been good advice, but for the first month after I came to the UK I couldn’t even think about other women. I’d never had a problem getting a girlfriend in the past – I’d inherited my dad’s Italian dark curly hair and olive complexion; and my mom’s blue eyes. I keep in shape, and I like to think I’m a pretty decent sort of guy. At college in the States I’d had a few girlfriends and we’d always had a pretty good time…somehow I even managed to stay friends with most of them after we broke up.

But now that I’d reached the heady age of twenty four, and I was a stranger studying for my PhD in this foreign land, there was something…unsatisfying about brief s****l encounters. Holy s**t, was I looking to settle down? Both my parents had cautioned me to keep my options open; but I knew there was something missing from my life; and it wasn’t just s*x. The affair I’d had for the past few months with Rebecca had brought out a part of me that I knew I couldn’t ignore. A cruel part of me that Rebecca had adored…even craved. Would I find another girl of my own age who could crave that too?

The girl across the room had stood up now, and was adjusting her jeans casually. It looked like she was asking a subset of the girls at the table for their drinks order. That made sense; she’d hardly buy drinks for the whole group. She walked to the bar and stood maybe three feet from where I was sitting. The bartender came over and took her order right away – I was the only other person at the bar so he wasn’t busy. He scurried away to prepare her drinks and…it was now or never.

I turned to her just as she turned towards me. Our eyes met and now she was up close the impact of her gaze almost made me falter. But I managed to smile and get my words out. “So…what do you think of the band?” I asked.

She gave me a quizzical look; but she was smiling back, at least. “Band? I’m sorry…what band?”

I deliberately paused, putting a slightly puzzled look on my face too. “Well…it’s just that a study by the psychology department of the University of Louisville – that’s in Kentucky, by the way – decided that the second most effective opening line when talking to a girl was ‘what do you think of the band?’”

“Really?” she asked, still wearing that delightfully puzzled expression. I loved the way she held my eye contact. Despite her shyness when we exchanged looks earlier she now seemed to carry an air of placid confidence that was quite enchanting. “Even when there isn’t actually a band playing? Like now, for instance?”

British sarcasm – you have to love it. I put on my own thoughtful expression – knowing she might guess I was deliberately trying to mirror her expressions. It was a clumsy attempt at body language, I knew. “Gosh…you have a point there; I wonder if they factored that into their study?”

“Wait a minute – you said it was the second most effective line – why didn’t you use the one that was most effective? And what was it anyway?” she asked.

“Oh you don’t want to know – that one’s just silly.”

“Sillier than asking what I thought of the band when there isn’t even a band playing?” she asked in exasperation.

“You see, that’s why women are so much smarter than men,” I told her – also mirroring her exasperation.

She blinked, looking totally confused now so I carried on before she could ruin the moment. OK…I had to adopt a look of confusion now…and adapt my next line to that emotion.

“I guess…well…I guess what I’m saying is that your move was way better than mine.”

“My…move?” she asked.

I decided to break the cycle and go with “epiphany”.

“Sure; it was brilliant!” I assured her. “You could have walked up to any other place on this bar to order your drinks – but you chose to stand just a couple of feet away from me. On the one hand it signals that you might be interested, but on the other hand you haven’t done anything too blatant. In short, I think it was really classy – and it would be despicable of me not to at least meet you halfway.”

Her face was a picture – she was clearly trying to muster up a response, but I didn’t give her the chance.

“Seriously – I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” I said, smiling again. “It’s just that recently I learned a lesson – that life’s too short not to take opportunities when they arise. So when I saw you across the room and looked into those eyes I knew I wanted to get to know you better. I suppose I could have hoped for a chance to talk to you…but the fact you’re standing a couple of feet away from me seems like more than just coincidence. It’s fate.”

She smiled. “Now I know why you never finish any of your thoughts! That was a dreadfully cheesy line! Does that sort of thing work with American girls? Or do you just try to drive them crazy by never getting to the point?”

“Actually…Jersey girls are easy – so I normally get to keep my supply of rohypnol for special occasions.”

She burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand and half turning away. The guy behind the bar had brought the four drinks she’d ordered and he gave me a wink as he put them down. The girl was still giggling to herself as she picked up three of the drinks, smiling at me again before she walked back to the table. She had a nice ass; and even better is that she knew I was looking and she gave me a little show on the way back to her table. As I’d hoped, she’d left her own drink on the bar and came back a minute or so later to collect it.

She looked over at me. “I hope you didn’t use any of your rohypnol in my drink!”

I smiled. “But that would be a tragedy,” I told her. “I assume it would make you close your eyes…and why would I ever want you to do that? No…I’m afraid I’ve exhausted my sorry set of jokes and distractions. This is where I actually make my move, such as it is.” I paused, lost in those beautiful eyes for a few seconds. I reluctantly dragged myself back to the real world and offered my hand to her. “I’m Tony,” I said. “Tony Andretti.”

“C…Claire,” she said quietly, taking my hand. Her fingers were long and slender. She looked to be almost the same height as me – I’m only five ten. Was she wearing heels?

She cleared her throat. “Claire MacDonald,” she added.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Claire.” I smiled quizzically. “MacDonald? So that’s a Scottish name, right? I’m sorry if that’s also the kind of thing we Americans ask.”

“No – you’re right. Daddy was born in Scotland. Mummy’s English.”

“My mom’s Irish – well a few generations back. Can you guess where my dad’s family comes from?”

“Italy?” she answered, smiling.

“What?” I asked, in mock amazement. “You could tell all that just from my name?”

She laughed again, and took a sip of her drink; it looked like a gin and tonic. I wanted to ask her to take a seat, but she’d already hinted she had to get back to her friends and I had a feeling that the invitation to sit might break the tenuous hold I had on her attention.

We drifted into a casual conversation and I noticed a couple of her friends glancing over and whispering to each other. And the older guy at the table – well if looks could kill I would be a dead man; I was guessing that he had designs on the lovely Claire himself.

I knew that any second she’d have to go back to her friends, and I decided to keep control. I finished the last of my drink and stood up from the stool.

“Claire MacDonald of the Clan MacDonald…it’s been a real pleasure talking to you, but I’m afraid I’ve got some work waiting for me.”

“Oh…you’re leaving?” She sounded genuinely disappointed – mission accomplished.

“Like I say – work to do; and I think the old guy at your table is getting jealous judging by the evil looks he keeps giving me.”

She looked puzzled.

“Phil? Oh…but…well, maybe he’s just concerned about me talking to a stranger.”

I laughed. “Right…that’s gotta be the reason.”

Now I was standing up I guessed she must be about five eight. She wasn’t skinny – quite the contrary since she seemed to have some nice curves. If I was being picky I might say she could be in better shape – but a lot of the British girls seemed to skimp on exercise in their college days.

I held out my hand and I marvelled once again how deliciously soft a woman’s skin can be. Her handshake was firm though – and her skin was dry.

“Goodnight, Tony. It…it was lovely to meet you.”

I took two steps and paused, turning to face her. She’d been checking me out and I saw her eyes dart away back to her drink. She blushed again, knowing I’d caught her.

“Claire – I’m sorry if I came on too strong with that stupid opening line; but I meant what I said about seizing opportunities. Am I right in thinking your group meets here on a Tuesday too?” I asked.

“Yes! Yes, we meet on Tuesday and Thursdays. Would you like to come along…”

I smiled, shaking my head. “I’m a lost soul, ma’am. But if you’re around after your meeting next Tuesday maybe I could buy you a drink? I honestly did enjoy talking to you, but if you think I’m too much of a pushy Yank then just ignore me…I won’t hold it against you, I promise.”

Her face lit up in such a genuine smile I actually felt dizzy. Why the heck was I walking away from her tonight? I knew the answer to that – I needed to take it slowly with this girl. Besides – I was visiting my folks this weekend so I wouldn’t have a chance to see Claire again much before then. So why not make it look like I was giving her the space?

“I…I’d really like to have a drink with you, Tony,” she told me.

“Tuesday then…take care of yourself, Claire.”

Upstate New York, July 12th 2010

As I neared graduation there were a lot of decisions I needed to make. My dad had been offered a research fellowship over in the UK, and he was very enthusiastic about going. Luckily a couple of UK universities were doing leading edge research on the very thing I wanted to study for my PhD. So as a family we made the decision that a few years in Jolly Old England might be quite a hoot for all of us.

But before I left I wanted to see Rebecca again – and by that I meant a serious s****l encounter. Filled with the kind of unreasonable confidence that so many college kids seem to possess, I called her up – hoping I might get a one night stand out of it at least.

To my surprise she was more than happy to see me privately – in fact, she had her own ideas about where we could meet up. She and her second husband were divorced by that time, and I guess she was between boyfriends.