Blind Fools

Blind Fools: Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The bartender asked Ian if he wanted another beer. He waved his hands for a negative to the question and waited for Ophelia and Raul to arrive. Tiki called him again and told him that she talked Ophelia into having a drink with Marco’s brother, and so he asked Mira drive him to the crowded bar that encompassed stage two of the plot to win Ophelia’s heart and make her surrender to his charms.

Straining to hear over the pumping sound system and clatter of people in the room, he shifted on his stool. A foul odor wafted from the back where the bathrooms rested, and a heavy layer of grease and smoke drifted in the air. This was not a place Ophelia would patron on a regular basis. Which, he supposed, was the point. Mira told him that Raul, the person, would never come here either, but Raul, the actor putting on the crass Casanova bit, would.

A sting of sweet perfume assaulted his nostrils. And then a soft hand found his thigh. He jerked. “Hey, handsome,” a low, purring voice called from his right. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

He kept his walking stick folded and tucked inside his jacket, and he’d left Joey at home, so to the average woman, he looked like a normal, single man having a drink. Ian almost snorted. Would the woman turn tail and flee if she found out the truth? Or was she one of those with an amaurophilia complex? Frankly, Ian didn’t understand the appeal of the blind fetish. He’d give everything he owned, and sell some organs as well, to see Ophelia’s face in the throes of passion.

“I apologize,” he said right off. “I’m meeting someone.”

“I can wait with you,” she said, squeezing his leg. He, non-discreetly, removed her touch from him.

“No, thank you.”

The woman huffed petulantly and left him for greener pastures. He continued to warm his seat, and soon began thinking that Mira and Tiki had made a mistake. Raul wasn’t bringing Ophelia here. Raul, like any other red-blooded man, had seen her charms and decided to keep this one for himself.

If that was true…Raul was a dead man.

Ian drained his beer and picked his way past the crush of bodies toward the exit, thinking up creative ways to disfigure a man he'd never met before. The cool night air hit his face at the same time Ophelia's orchid fragrance cooled the steam rolling out of his ears.

“Ian!”

The surprise in her voice lapped at his skin, washing him in a warmth he couldn’t describe. “Ophelia?”

“Um…yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”

He had the lie already on his lips, but when he said it, he didn’t sound very convincing. “Just having a beer until I have to meet with someone. What are you doing here?”

“I’m…um…”

Then Raul made his presence known. The man’s scent reeked of sandalwood aftershave and something similar to another man’s odor. Interesting. That was what Mira meant about another species. Ian hoped Raul was a damn good actor, because if he figured out Raul’s preferences in only half a second, Ophelia may not be far behind on the guessing game.