The meal was filling; her steak had been barely cooked. Connie liked it Pittsburgh rare, ever since she learned of the delicacy back when Pittsburgh actually still produced steel. The shocking duality of the black-charred outside and the cool, basically raw blood-red center, was the closest she'd gotten to pure heaven in a steak. She complimented it with a delicious red wine, potatoes, asparagus, assorted vegetables, a House salad with no dressing, and some sweet bread. Heavy silence pervaded the restaurant, which she imagined was odd for a Monday, thinking that usually business men would abound, or at least the conventioneers would be on the hungry side... But, she reasoned, such conventioneers were probably eating at the McDonalds near the Hall and spending more money on geektoys than dinner.
She'd eaten slowly, though, the evening dragged on as her waiter passed her by several times asking if everything was okay, if there was anything she needed. Eventually she got the feeling that she was beginning to be despised for actually making him work.
"Little prick should be happy I'm here, if he wasn't such a hawk I might actually tip him well," she thought to herself, flipping through the too-short dessert menu. She stopped herself from imagining what it might be like to have the young man naked in her arms, her fangs barely scratching the surface of his neck, or better yet his thigh, his hardness towering near her face...
She shook her head to clear the thought. She forced herself to behave; even though she hadn't lied to the contractor - she had definately eaten the day before - the temptation of "bone and blood," as she called those sorts of meals, was greater than she'd expected.
When her waiter, Peter, came wandering back, she gave him her dessert menu and order. "Gimme yer biggest slice of tiramisu, with a cup of espresso."
A Fresh Start - Building a New Home (lock)
"The north and east windows need to go. I'd rather not completely block 'em out... Maybe somethin' ta cover 'em up... Can you come up with some sort of shutters or heavy blind system? I work nights..." Her southern accent coming out occasionally, Connie was a bit disconcerted as the contractor smiled knowingly. She should have guessed that the contracting company suggested to her, especially one suggested by a vampire's familiar, would be sympathetic or at least knowledgable about a vampire's limitations.
"While you're at it, I want somethin' similar installed for the skylight over the stairs. I know my neighbor's probly a day person, but I'm sure he'll understan', maybe after a delicious meal." She wiggled her brows at the man, then laughed as both a blush as well as a streak of fear crossed his face. "Don't you be worryin' darlin', I'm quite full, and besides, you ain't even started ta work yet! If'n ya mess up, then I'd be tempted." She turned to head out shopping for furniture when she stopped, snapped her fingers, and turned back to him. "Oh! Almost fergot. I'm fixin' ta get fast Interweb, so I want some Effer... eefer... Network port thingies at all four corners, one of the walls near the bed, and on the side of the kitchen island nearest the center of the room. Pluggem up to a switcher at the wall next to the bathroom; the cable guy said that's where it'd be pulled in from the street." She pointed in the general direction, and the contractor nodded.
"I'm goin' out for the night; here's my cell number if there's an emergency. I'm staying at the Piazza til the work's done."
She decided to drive to the Piazza, and treated herself to the valet parking and curbside bag assistance. The gentleman at the desk seemed to be the same one she'd spoken to on the phone to make her reservation. His nametag, Reagan, dangled by a broken pin as he spoke on the phone to someone else. Leaning over the counter, her breasts ponderously lumped on the shiny wood and metal, she snapped the pin back into place on the tag. His smile of gratitude was replaced briefly by shock that a customer had caught the problem, let alone fixed it. Connie waited patiently as he finished his conversation. She stopped him from thanking her or saying anything else, with an upraised finger. "Reservation for Connie Stone, please." She knew he'd appreciate the professionalism, and she imagined he would wish the whole incident hadn't happened.
He nodded and glanced at the reservations screen. "You're earlier than expected, Ms. Stone, but there's something to be said about the virtue of punctuality! And courtesy," he added, "Unfortunately, all the smaller rooms were booked up for the Trekkie convention in town, but we still do have some of the larger suites available. I'll have one of the men take up your bags..." Snapping his fingers, a bellhop materialized out of nowhere, and hefted Connie's bags. "We hope you enjoy your stay at the Grand Piazza, and we thank you -" he put just a tiny bit of emphasis on these words "for staying at Nachton's Premiere hotel establishment. Also please enjoy a meal in our award-winning restaurant, courtesy of the house."
Connie flashed a winning smile, and tried to let a little bit of her accent show through as she flirted, "It'd be even more of a courtesy if the one doin' the offerin' joined me."
She felt vaguely disappointed when he responded, "The offer is most appreciated, Ms. Stone, but unfortunately, I'm on desk duty til morning."
"Breakfast then?" she inquired.
He inclined his head. "We shall see how the night goes," he said.
Noncommittal, she thought. That's good. Can't let any of your clients know you want an "in" with them. He reminded her more than a little of the character Michael J. Fox played in that movie... What was its title? She'd have to look it up sometime soon. "In that case, I shall take my meal shortly after I freshen up, then we'll see about breakfast."
Connie
18 years ago
Connie
18 years ago
Someone had once told her that a slice of tiramisu was comparable to edible love.
Connie could understand that, even though she'd never really been in love... Not that she could remember, anyway.
Sure, it had been pretty interesting to meet George Washington, but he was already married, and John Wilkes Booth was too damned fanatical about the whole South Supremacy thing. She might have been able to tell herself at one point that her interest in those men, among others, was purely power-based, but she knew deep inside it had been pretty dangerous bouts of puppy love that had tickled her fancy.
She savored every bite until her cellphone rang. "Stone. No, I definately want the skylight cover installed. No, I don't care if my neighbor complains. Figger a way to make it automatic. You know with buttons and stuff. The damned thing's almost as big as the front of a car, you can't mount some kind of garage door-like thing up there that's relatively quiet? You're right, that is a good idea. Don't forget the light sensors on the windows, either. I'm sure it -is- standard practice to install 'em, but still, don't ferget 'em."
The two forkfuls of tiramisu left taunted her from the plate. She could almost hear them saying, "haha, your appetite is ruined, and you don't wanna eat us."
"I'll show them," she thought playfully, then speared both with her fork, and bit into them savagely. Horribly mauled cake, cheese, and chocolate melted immediately in her mouth, nearly tingling as she swallowed.
"Odd, I'm completely full and perfectly sated, and I still can't help but want to bury my fangs in someone. Probably the new city, the anxiety of a new place... Not like it hasn't happened. Well, going back home all those years ago was a bit different..."
She rested quietly as she waited for Peter to return with her check. She glanced at her cellphone, and realized she'd been eating for almost three hours straight. Granted, slowly and deliberately, but still... She felt the pressure of having driven all day for shopping, then working with the contractors to tell them how she wanted her home, and now eating as much as she had... She left her phone on the table, knowing that Peter would probably appear when she disappeared, and went to the ladies' room.
Connie could understand that, even though she'd never really been in love... Not that she could remember, anyway.
Sure, it had been pretty interesting to meet George Washington, but he was already married, and John Wilkes Booth was too damned fanatical about the whole South Supremacy thing. She might have been able to tell herself at one point that her interest in those men, among others, was purely power-based, but she knew deep inside it had been pretty dangerous bouts of puppy love that had tickled her fancy.
She savored every bite until her cellphone rang. "Stone. No, I definately want the skylight cover installed. No, I don't care if my neighbor complains. Figger a way to make it automatic. You know with buttons and stuff. The damned thing's almost as big as the front of a car, you can't mount some kind of garage door-like thing up there that's relatively quiet? You're right, that is a good idea. Don't forget the light sensors on the windows, either. I'm sure it -is- standard practice to install 'em, but still, don't ferget 'em."
The two forkfuls of tiramisu left taunted her from the plate. She could almost hear them saying, "haha, your appetite is ruined, and you don't wanna eat us."
"I'll show them," she thought playfully, then speared both with her fork, and bit into them savagely. Horribly mauled cake, cheese, and chocolate melted immediately in her mouth, nearly tingling as she swallowed.
"Odd, I'm completely full and perfectly sated, and I still can't help but want to bury my fangs in someone. Probably the new city, the anxiety of a new place... Not like it hasn't happened. Well, going back home all those years ago was a bit different..."
She rested quietly as she waited for Peter to return with her check. She glanced at her cellphone, and realized she'd been eating for almost three hours straight. Granted, slowly and deliberately, but still... She felt the pressure of having driven all day for shopping, then working with the contractors to tell them how she wanted her home, and now eating as much as she had... She left her phone on the table, knowing that Peter would probably appear when she disappeared, and went to the ladies' room.
Connie
18 years ago
Connie reappeared at her table, and the little black check-holder thingy was waiting for her. As she signed the credit receipt, she mumbled to herself, "Damned thing probly has a name." She tacked on the exact amount of the bill for gratuity, even though Peter had gotten briefly on her nerves, and downed the remainder of the drinks left on the table - water, wine, espresso.
As she passed the front desk, she winked at Reagan, then turned back to him as she walked past. He looked up from his reservation computer. "Yes, Ms. Stone?"
"Reagan, sugah, could you please have some sort of bubble bath kit sent up to my room? Movin' into a new city is always draining and I need to unwind a bit. Oh and could you turn on the tee-vee circuit, too? And do you have a listing of the movies showing?" She flashed her beautiful smile, flirting more than slightly with the young man. She knew he probably got lonely down here on the overnight shifts. Well, except for the streetwalkers...
"Of course, Ms. Stone." A hand disappeared into a folder next to the computer and brought out a listing of the available movies. Connie perused it quickly.
"Hmm. Million Dollar Baby. Coach Carter. Constantine... Junk in the Trunk 55? I don't think I'm familiar with the first fifty four." She raised mischeviously confused grey eyes to Reagan's face. She didn't get the impression he knew what it might be about. "Well, I'll be staying here at least a few days, so we'll see. If I happen to catch it, would you like to know what it's about?"
Connie had a sneaking suspicion it was pornography of some sort. Reagan answered, "Thank you Ms. Stone, but that's not necessary. Our entertainment director would not allow us to list it if it were something... untoward." He flashed his own brilliant smile.
Nodding her head thanks, Connie folded the list and stuck it just into her purse. "Good night, Reagan."
"Good night, Ms. Stone."
As she passed the front desk, she winked at Reagan, then turned back to him as she walked past. He looked up from his reservation computer. "Yes, Ms. Stone?"
"Reagan, sugah, could you please have some sort of bubble bath kit sent up to my room? Movin' into a new city is always draining and I need to unwind a bit. Oh and could you turn on the tee-vee circuit, too? And do you have a listing of the movies showing?" She flashed her beautiful smile, flirting more than slightly with the young man. She knew he probably got lonely down here on the overnight shifts. Well, except for the streetwalkers...
"Of course, Ms. Stone." A hand disappeared into a folder next to the computer and brought out a listing of the available movies. Connie perused it quickly.
"Hmm. Million Dollar Baby. Coach Carter. Constantine... Junk in the Trunk 55? I don't think I'm familiar with the first fifty four." She raised mischeviously confused grey eyes to Reagan's face. She didn't get the impression he knew what it might be about. "Well, I'll be staying here at least a few days, so we'll see. If I happen to catch it, would you like to know what it's about?"
Connie had a sneaking suspicion it was pornography of some sort. Reagan answered, "Thank you Ms. Stone, but that's not necessary. Our entertainment director would not allow us to list it if it were something... untoward." He flashed his own brilliant smile.
Nodding her head thanks, Connie folded the list and stuck it just into her purse. "Good night, Reagan."
"Good night, Ms. Stone."