Have you ever had a good blind date? Because I haven’t.
I was 28 years old and I had been set up more times than I cared to remember, and none of them were worth remembering. A little over two weeks ago, my assistant had set me up with a friend of hers. Her friend was a cute little red head, but dumb enough to make you slap yourself. I took her to a French restaurant, she couldn’t pronounce a thing on the menu. She had an unhealthy fixation with every bad reality television show, and by that of course I mean every reality television show. It was worth picking up the $150 tab just to get the hell out of there. Thankfully by the time I dropped her off at home she had finally picked up on my signals that I wanted to get away from her. It might have been worth a one-night-stand except that I didn’t want to get an earful from my assistant, and have to fire her.
Dana, my assistant, was gorgeous. I had tried to flirt with her but she either didn’t get it or she was politely brushing me off. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer either, but she was smart enough to answer my phone, take my appointments, fill out my paperwork, and basically anything else I didn’t feel like doing. Some people in the office didn’t like that I was so friendly with my assistant, but screw them, half of them worked for me anyway. I was an executive at my uncle’s brokerage firm, clearing $170,000 a year without doing much of anything, except playing golf with my uncle.
Anyway, two weeks after my date with Dana’s friend… Karla or something… she was trying to set me up again. This time it was with her friend Georgia. I don’t know why I said yes, because I hadn’t gotten any in almost three weeks probably. We agreed to meet at my place first, have a drink, and go to dinner from there. This way, I figured, if she was as dumb as Kelly or Katie or whoever then I could just ask her to leave and enjoy my Friday night at home.
I showered, shaved, and dressed up nice. I had a tan suit with a black shirt, no tie. I had a minute long debate in the mirror over whether to unbutton just one collar button or two. I had just settled on two when the doorbell to my apartment rang. It was 6:50, she was early. Probably nervous, great. I went down stairs to the front hall and opened the door. And I was unusually pleased for the revealing of a blind date.
The girl was a knockout. She had long, curly blonde hair that framed her beautiful face. She had one of those adorable, just-slightly upturned noses and great sky blue eyes. Her tan was perfect, and a little bit of makeup gave her an angelic complexion. She was wearing a red cocktail dress which clung tightly to her slender body, showing off her perfect cleavage. She was 5’5 or so, I guessed, without those red open toe heels.
“Hi, I’m Georgia,” she said, beaming a big smile of perfectly symmetric pearl white teeth.
“I know,” I said, trying to play it cool. “I’m Jim. Come in.”
“Thank you,” Georgia said. As she entered the apartment she brushed up against me just slightly, which was completely unnecessary because the doorway is big enough to park a minivan. Touchdown!
“Can I offer you a drink? I have wine? Champagne? I could mix us something?” Show off those great bar skills I picked up that month I worked in a restaurant. Didn’t last long but I learned to mix a few of the ladies’ favorites.
“How about a cosmo?” Georgia asked, again flashing a knockout smile.
“Coming right up,” I said, trying to match her smile with a charming grin of my own. We chatted for a bit while I mixed a drink, mostly about her. Dana had apparently filled her in on me and what I do, so I let her tell me about herself. While she was talking I was already making mental plans for the night, wondering if she’d play hard to get once that part of the evening came up.
We sat down on the couch and I turned on my electric fireplace. I should have set it all up earlier, but I was expecting Georgia to be more like Kendra. Or Karla? Didn’t matter. We chatted a few more minutes, when Georgia reached for her glass and spilt her drink. Not all of it, but enough that I was worried about getting cranberry vodka on my carpet.
“Oh shit!” Georgia hissed. “I’m so sorry! Do you have any paper towels?”
“Of course I have paper towels,” I snapped. Blondes. I ran into the kitchen and came out with a handful of paper towels. Damage contained.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
“Not a problem,” I tried to smile.
We sat back down and started chatting again. After about five minutes I looked at my watch. “Well, we better get going,” I said starting to stand up. “I made a 7:30 reservation at… woah!” I suddenly got light headed and fell back on the couch. I tried to get up again but this time Georgia reached out and pushed me back down.
She suddenly hopped over to my side of the couch and straddled my lap facing me. “What’s your hurry,” she purred.
“Something’s wrong,” I said, getting nervous. Everything was getting fuzzy. “I don’t… I don’t…”
“Shhhh,” she soothed me. “Just relax. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Why… wha… what… wh…” was all I could manage as I felt myself losing consciousness. The heavenly scent of Georgia’s perfume and her soft, soothing voice were so pleasant that I allowed myself to close my eyes… and drift off into sleep.
… The first thing I noticed was that my jaw was a little stiff. I reached up to massage it, but it still hurt. It was then that I realized that it still hurt because I wasn’t rubbing it. Suddenly it all came to me. My hands were tied behind my back. No, they were duct taped. The stick of the tape pulled on my arm hairs every time I tried to move my wrists. I was laying on the floor, I looked down and saw that my feet and knees were taped together too. I followed my gaze up to the couch where Georgia was sitting, her legs crossed, sipping on a glass of wine and smiling down at me.
“Glad you’re finally awake,” she grinned, putting her glass down on the coffee table. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
To be continued…