Inspiring Novelists:

[LynnEllen]

“Anybody got a cigarette?” Seven hands offered seven brands and laughter erupted freely around the table. Madison spied his brand and reached for the pack directly across from where he was sitting. “Look at that,” he laughed, “a white girl smoking menthol. My brand, too. Good old Benson & Hedges 100’s”

“So I’ve got taste. I’m allowed.” Sarah blushed in the dim light as smoke drifted from her lips. She had never been to Dirty Moe’s before and was still adjusting to the family-style seating; take your place at the twelve-seater picnic table of your choice. She held the pack for him to take one, and found herself admiring the shape of his hand, strong and angular. She smoothed her red locks behind her ear and looked up at the recipient of her habitual generosity.

“I’m Sarah.” She managed to be heard above the jukebox pounding out something by Bon Jovi. She found herself looking into his eyes and visually tracing the contours of his face. She felt drawn by the beauty of his dark cocoa skin and the masculine but gentle touch of his hand as they shook.

“Madison Edward Harper, the Third. At your service.” He both mocked and exuded gallantry with a short bow.

His voice was a virtuoso baritone solo. She wanted to sing along with his every word, and began to have a new appreciation for being forced to sit with strangers.

Feeling like a school girl cornered by her crush on a playground, she held out her lighter, flame aglow. Madison leaned over the table and cupped her hand in his to hold it steady, which really didn’t help at all. Holding his/her cigarette between his lips, he drew the flame towards the tip, all the while keeping his eyes on hers. The connection was palpable. The attraction, undeniable.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Madison rose and took Sarah’s hand, leading her away from the crowd.

“Um. Yeah. Thanks.” These were the only words she could think of and mentally blasted herself for sounding like an idiot. She followed Madison across the crowded room and out to the patio bar where they could sit side by side, away from the music and the chatter.

The evening had set the mood music for their meeting. Although they could hear the muted chaos from inside the restaurant, the air outside was light and clean and smelled of the ocean. Palm trees lined the east rail marking the boundary of the patio bar. Each green, flowing frond performed its own interpretive dance in the sultry spring breeze.

Sarah and Madison began to dance too.