***
"That's him."
"That's him?" Aaron asks Ivy as they eye a middle-aged man on the other side of the bar counter, smoking dried tobacco leaves, his shades covering his eyes while he picks up a drink of whiskey on the rocks on his right hand. Many people approach the man while he reluctantly ignores all of them. After a while, a gorgeous woman walks towards the man, while she wears a sleek outfit with wavy hair and red lips. The woman sits beside the man's stole, gripping slowly on his shoulders.
"Mr. Eric, what brings you here?" The woman asks the Mr. Zhang as he tries to scoff of the lady beside her. Ivy's eyes boggles as she looks at the lady beside Mr. Zhang.
"Aaron, I'm no match for that lady." Ivy complains as she promptly covers her overly expressed breasts with her bare hands.
"Why? You look good, and I personally curated you to be of Mr. Zhang's taste."
Ivy rolls her eyes. "Look, see that woman beside Mr. Eric Zhang? That's Lessandra."
Aaron's brows furrows. "Who's Lessandra?"
"Have you been living under a rock?" Ivy snaps at Aaron. "Don't you know Lessandra?"
"Well am I supposed to know her, then?"
Ivy clobbers Aaron's head slowly. "You should! She's literally on every billboard sign in this city! Lessandra's the lead actress on one of the country's most famous soap operas! Don't you watch TV or something?"
Aaron sighs cheaply. "Well, TV's not really within my interests anyway—"
"And that's not the point, Aaron!" Ivy castigates as she shrieks silently. "The point here is that I'm no match for her."
Both Aaron and Ivy continue to stare at Mr. Zhang and Lessandra. The two seemed to exchange pleasantries. Lessandra eerily swipes an instruction card over to the bartender.
"Please make my drink on exactly the same manner as the instructions inside this card please," Lessandra asks the bartender, the latter nodding and proceeding to do his job. Lessandra then faces Mr. Zhang while he continues to sip on his whiskey.
"Glad to see you here, Eric. It's been a while."
Mr. Zhang fakes a smile.
"I was told that you were here for a business trip? Am I right?" Lessandra brushes Mr. Zhang's suit as she leans closer to his tux. "You smell good today. New perfume, I guess?"
Mr. Zhang puts of his drink as he faces Lessandra and smiles. "I see that your nose is still very keen on these things, Lessandra. Anyway, Christian's Dior's latest collection, about seven thousand dollars per bottle. I had it premade on Paris a few weeks ago."
"Still very generous when it comes to self-care, I see, Mr. Zhang." Lessandra smiles, leaning, showing her cosmic-blue sapphire earrings. Mr. Zhang smiles as he sees the gemstone on her ears.
"Still wearing it, eh?"
"Of course."
Mr. Zhang looks at her, annoyed. "Why? I gave that to you a few months ago. I ought to think that you should have bought better ones already."
"Well, I ought to wear it as I've heard you were in town, Eric. I take these precious Burmese gemstones as a remembrance of our rainy night escapade on Tokyo a few months back."
Mr. Zhang's smile drops. He clears his throat and proceeds to inhale his tobacco stick, ignoring Lessandra. He looks away to the direction of the bartender.
"I loved that night, Eric. I wish we could do that again." Lessandra asserts, biting her lips and showing some skin on her collar bone. Mr. Zhang clears his throat again and drops his tobacco stick.
"I'm happy that you loved my company that night, Lessandra."
Lessandra smirks. "But Eric— you did more than just keep me company. You had me inside and I had your lips torn. You were especially great that night, Eric—"
"And I believe that we agreed to not talk about that night, Lessandra."
"But something as memorable as that should be talked about more often, especially when you—"
"Yes, Lessandra. It was memorable." Mr. Zhang nods his head. "But it was not memorable because of what happened between the two of us. Rather, it was memorable because of what happened on the utility room that night." Mr. Zhang arches his brow.
"But that was the past, Eric. I believe that something as small as that should not be talked about anymore." Lessanda objects. "That was a minor detail of the night. That was dessert, and you were the main course, Eric, I—"
"So you made that bellboy your dessert? Why couldn't you just eat the pastries on the café? Why eat the bellboy instead? And I can't believe you called me your main course. I'm not a meal, Lessandra. I'm a person. And believe me— the taste of the dessert lasts longer than the main course."
"But I'm sorry!"
"Running out of money again, Lessandra?" Mr. Zhang stands up from the stole facing away from Lessandra. Lessandra tries to follow him. But before she could continue, the bartender brings the drink over to Lessandra.
"Here's your drink, miss."
Lessandra swipes it away. "Not now, you—"
Mr. Zhang slightly eyes the drink. He slips a credit card over to the bartender. "Use this card for her drink." He smirks. "And by the way, Lessandra. You still drink the same drink every single time, do you? Sex in the driveway, a blue cocktail drink with quite an ironic name. It should have been named sex in the utilities room to fit your fetishes, but oh well—" Mr. Zhang continues to walk away, going forward to Aaron's direction. Aaron panics and pinches Ivy. Ivy leers at Aaron while she takes another sip of flavored beer.
"What?"
"Look in front of you, it's Mr. Zhang."
Ivy drops the bottle of beer and straightens herself out. She sighs and tries to approach Mr. Zhang.
"Hello Mr. Zhang, may I interest you in some special service tonight?" Ivy smiles brightly while she leans to him, her cleavage clearly showing and her legs peeking out of the loli outfit. Mr. Zhang looks at her from head to toe. He smirks, nodding.
"Maybe next time, miss."
"But sir, I think it's nice if you'd try our special service. It's curated especially for you." Ivy asserts as she presses her legs on his knees. Mr. Zhang's eyes drift away for a moment, stunned by the woman's determination and demeanor. Ivy continues grinding her body to his. He closes his eyes. After a moment of contemplation, he replies.
"I'm really sorry miss, but I've got to—"
"Ne ne, onii-chan…"
Mr. Zhang flinches. "E-excuse me, what?"
Ivy continues to portray a cute, seductive look. "Onii-chan, aishiteru."
Mr. Zhang sighs heavily. He looks at the lady, wearing a very short blue and white skirt with knee-high stockings and a crop top that's almost bursting because of her chests. After a minute of contemplation and ogling, he finally sighs heavily. "Fine. Name your price, lady."
Ivy smirks as she then proceeds to speak in a cute, high-pitched tone. "Nii-chan, imoto-san wants six thousand dollars."
***