A story based on Can Yamans Turkish dizi.
Ozgur Atasoy.
Rich, handsome, Club/bar owner and DJ lives in an exclusive rooftop penthouse in Istanbul.
He's a Player.
A lover of beautiful things and he can't resist one night stands with beautiful women...
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EZGI POV
"It was red, short, tight and backless."
I turn around and look at the sales assistant's blank expression over my shoulder, demonstrating with my hand at the arch in my lower back. "Cut down quite low. I don't know if you remember, I tried it on but then bought the red floral wrap. " She suddenly smiles. "Ohhhhh, I remember. You were with a man..." I drop my hand and spin back to face her. Of course, she remembers Ozgur, more than her own stock! I should have led with that. Do you remember the day when the most dreamy 'sex on legs man' came into your store? Instead of saying that out loud, I smile. "Err, yes, I was." "He was tall, six footish, well built, dark hair and trim beard, wearing designer sunglasses, and a fitted blue and white stripe shirt, opened up to..." Now she's demonstrating. Her hand indicating on herself, very accurately, I might add, exactly where Ozgur has his shirts open to. She stops and fiddles with the lower button on her own shirt, wistfully looking through me.
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It's as though I can see her recollections and my own memory brings up just how attractive he looked in that shirt. I decide to give her the moment she needs, and wait for her to notice that I'm still standing in front of her, expectantly.
The small sigh and throat noise, indicates that she may be ready to be spoken to again.
"Soooo, the Red dress?" "Oh, yes, err, No. Sorry. All sold. We only had a limited number of that style, I'm afraid. It was from an Italian designer. So, is your... friend, with you today?" She looks, hopefully, towards the opened glass doors at the front of the store. "No, he's at work. Is there any chance that you could order one for me? Make any enquiries about where I get get one?" "I... Ummm. I can try... It might take a while, though. Shall I take your details and call you?" I give her my name and mobile number. "And a back up, incase we can't get through to you..." I've got to hand it to her. Clever move. "I always have my phone with me, and if I'm busy... Say, with my 'friend', you can leave a voicemail."
Her mouth twitches and turns up at the side. "Yes, of course. No problem. Was it for a special occasion, event?" Do I want to give this woman any more details of my life? I decide that weighing up females and rating them for potential love rivals or stalker tendencies is taking up way too much of my time and energy. Every woman wants him...I need to accept that fact.
