“Hey, how was your first day?” Dawn was in the back seat looking tired. She was never driving and there was never a driver. I wondered where they went. On the floor was a wrinkled paper grocery bag and the shredded skin of a wine cap. She was taking a large pull from a sweaty, chilled chablis in her hands when I sat down and closed the door.
The sounds of the city blocked out, only the colors of passing cars lit her face in passing swaths of red and white.
She offered it to me.
“It was okay,” I said tipping the bottle so far back it tapped the roof of the SUV. “A lot to learn, I guess.”
“Yeah, Ok, get in back?”
“I said get in the back. Go. You go lay down.”
The third row of the SUV was set down and spacious enough for a few people.
“Take off your coat. You can leave that and your bag here up front.”
“What are we doing?”
“I’ll tell you as you go, OK? You’re like my little joystick.” And smiled so sweetly I felt a rush of blood through my body.
“Oh, you smell good. What is that?”
“It’s nothing. Something I had. Citrus or something.”
“It’s feminine but that’s OK.” She said. “It smells good on you. You should wear it every day.”
“This is a big car.”
“Yeah, Tiger Bun, it is.” I heard the rustling of clothing and turned to see her reaching under her pleated skirt to peel off her panties.
“Why are you calling me that?”