“So,” Sid began, almost hesitantly, “do you?”
“I don’t know,” Zhenya replied, his eyes settling on a server with curly hair and sharp features, how he leaned down, so his ear was pressed against the man he was serving’s mouth, how his muscles stretched the pantyhose to almost an enticing degree. He wouldn’t mind sinking his teeth in the fragile fabric and seeing how quickly it gave way.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d like it at first, either,” Sid rambled on, taking a sip of his drink. Wine, Zhenya noted, only a little surprised to see the glass in Sid’s hand. With shareholders and coworkers, they both gravitated to more conventional drinks: hard liquor, mixed drinks, or if they needed to appear ‘down to earth’, beer. But Sid had confessed, on more than one occasion, that he really preferred wine, and had a collection that he was rather proud of. “But it grows on you. They,” he nodded towards the rest of the room, “grow on you.”
Zhenya gains acceptance to an exclusive gentleman's club; Tanger gives him a dance to remember.
