Talking Rain

He is just about to leave the bar of the hotel after talking with one of his informants when he casually glances towards the hotel’s outside swimming pool area. He notices several couples, same gender and opposite gender, talking to each other with drinks in their hands. Nothing strange or unusual, at first. Still, with head turned towards the pool, he continues to walk towards the hotel lobby door, when he suddenly stops.

He sees a bikini-clad female lounging, looking bored, quite beautiful to his eyes, unsure of her age, but certainly, in his estimation, younger than he.

Unknown at the time, the rendezvous is the beginning of the end for Jack Bogle.

Looking at his watch, he decides to retrace his steps, to return to a better vantage point of the pool area, of the beautiful female. He finds an oversize chair to sit in where he can see through the glass doors separating the lobby from the pool. He plops his body comfortably not knowing what his further plan should be.

Moments pass as he continues to stare at the woman, so innocently beautiful yet so sinful, he thinks. Is he falling in love with an image? He feels the heat of his body, and the sensation of his firmness. He feels slightly embarrassed.

He wonders who she is, what her name may be, where she comes from, why she is here. For him? Is it fate, simply a coincidence, or his over imagination seeking human touching and affection that has not been part of him for so long? She is wielding power over him, not knowing she is doing it.

Her fiery red hair, and piercing cat-like eyes put Jack in a sort of trance, a fantasy. She is well endowed, taking advantage of the French-style bikini, looking like an emancipated woman, yet wholesome.

As if by telepathy, she glances his way, looking directly at him. She smiles at him in a playful way, flirtatious, without sincerity. Yet, Jack ignores her air, preferring to believe she seeks his companionship. He smiles back, and nods approvingly.

Moments later she stands and slips on a transparent top. She moves to the bar outside, near the pool. Jack accepts her actions as an invitation to join her. He complies.

Slowly he walks towards her. Her back is to him when he reaches her. He stands motionless, not having rehearsed what he would do next. He does not have to wait long. She turns her head, smiles, and says, “Please, join me.”

Her voice is soft, inviting, cloaked in a sexual allusion that is irresistible to Jack. He wants her now, not wanting to wait any further.

She begins her story.

“Hello,” she says as she extends her hand for a shake.

Not knowing to say something novel or whatever, Jack conforms to, “Hello. Glad to meet you.”

“I noticed you were looking in my direction. Have you some interest?” she boldly asks.

Surprised of her boldness, Jack clumsily says, “Well. Ugh. You are very beautiful, and I was, ugh, just admiring.” 

“Oh. Just admiring,” she replies.

Jack now senses the dance of flirting has begun. Yet, he is so ill prepared for the dance. His investigative instincts and training have been trumped. He is not thinking logically.

“Are you alone, or with someone,” Jack manages to ask.

“Both,” she replies.

“Oh, I see,” says Jack.

“I don’t think you do,” she replies.

“You are right. I do not understand,” he says.

“It really does not matter,” she says.

“Are you on a vacation or is it business,” he asks.

“Both,” she replies again.

“Oh, I see,” Jacks repeats.

“Do you?” she asks.

“No. Not really,” he admits.

“You are a cop. I can tell,” she claims.