Worse Than Being Alone by Patricia M. Clark

I’m Jack.”
    I extended my hand, which Jack shook as he motioned
for me to sit across from him in the booth and Carly fled.
    “ I’m glad to meet you, Kitty,”
Jack said, gulping his martini as if it would provide the courage
he needed.
    “ Me, too,” I said as an eager
waiter, wearing a sparkling nose ring, arrived to take our drink
orders.
    “ I’d like a glass of Riesling,” I
said.
    “ Another Washington apple martini
for me,” Jack said as he smiled at me. Everything about Jack Kyle
screamed medium; medium height, weight and hair color, a cross
between ash blond and gray. Guarded, washed out blue eyes observed
me carefully, revealing nothing. Struck by the complete lack of
expression on Jack’s face, I wondered how he had mastered keeping
such an impenetrable mask in place.
    “ So, any more funny stories about
your job?” he asked as the waiter left.
    “ Not really,” I said, unsure what
to say. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think this would be so
uncomfortable.”
    “ It doesn’t have to be,” Jack said
as the waiter brought our drinks, handed us menus, dutifully
recited the specials, and left.
    “ That steak special sounds great,”
I said, trying to make conversation. “So, you work with
computers?”
    “ Yeah, I have a small business
that provides computer support,” Jack said. “I have 20 employees
who come to your house and set up or fix your computer. I like
having my own business, don’t you?”
    “ Oh, yeah, that’s the only way to
go.”
    “ What are you looking for, Kitty?”
Jack asked, finishing his martini.
    ” Well, that’s a loaded
question.”
    “ A friend, a lover, or a husband?”
he asked.
    “ How about all three at some
point?” I asked as the waiter returned with another apple martini
and wine. I felt a twinge of unease, realizing Jack had probably
instructed the waiter to keep the drinks coming before I got
there.
    “ I’ll have the steak special,” I
said to the waiter. “House salad with ranch and a loaded baked
potato.”
    “ I’ll have the same,” Jack said as
we handed the menus back to the waiter.
    When the waiter was gone I asked. “What are you
looking for, Jack?”
    “ I like strong women,” Jack said
as he took another big gulp, his eyes starting to glaze over as if
they were eager to swim in a happy sea of alcohol. I had a lot of
first hand experience with that particular phenomenon.
    “ What exactly does that mean,
Jack?” I asked as the waiter dropped off our salads and left.
“Strong as in independent, strong physically, what?”
    “ I guess more physically,
sexually,” Jack said as his gaze landed on my breasts and remained
locked in place. Rather than feeling insulted, I thought he seemed
more pathetic than predatory as we continued our
discourse.
    “ Hm, sexually?” I asked,
determined to find out if I had stumbled into a world of kinky sex
that would at least make the night memorable. “Like whips or
S&M?”
    “ Nothing quite that extreme at
first,” Jack said, shaking his head. “I just like to be
dominated.”
    “ So, do you like being spanked?” I
asked as I imagined wearing black leather pants, vest, and gloves
with a whip in my hand. My freak meter exploded with
activity.
    “ Spanking is good.”
    “ Tell me more,” I said as our
steaks and another round of drinks arrived. Jack seemed much more
interested in slogging the liquor while I ate the food with
gusto.
    “ It all starts with
role-playing.”
    “ So you’re the big, bad boy who
needs to be punished,” I said, staring at Jack for cues.
    A knowing smile spread across his face. “I have been
bad.”
    “ I’m the woman who’s going to keep
you in line,” I said, unsure what to say next.
    “ I need to be tied up and
beaten.”
    “ I’m fresh out of whips and
chains,” I said. “How’s your supply?”
    “ I have a whole collection,” he
said.
    The bantering about a world I knew nothing about
continued until the food was gone and Jack looked like his