Flirty Friday

Okay, I'll admit it right up front. I'm married and I love my husband. And I flirt. With him. ;) Whether you are like me, or you're single and looking, flirting is fun. WordWeb has two definitions. 1) Verb. Talk or behave amorously, without serious intentions, 2) Noun. Playful behaviour intended to arouse sexual interest.

Playing was fun as a kid, and it can be even more fun as an adult. So how can play help you flirt? Can you tell I'm a list type person? I'm extremely creative, but I'm also a linear thinker. A+B+C=D. But now and then I like to mix it up and do A+B=D-C. LOL By now you're wondering "what the heck does she know about flirting?"

Let's try a scenario. Flash fiction, written off the cuff. The set up: A department store during Christmas. A rich-looking, immaculately dressed man (hey - I said this was fiction, remember?) comes into the store and approaches the perfume counter. The single woman behind it looks up and smiles.

"Hello, sir. Welcome to Diamond Brothers. May I help you?" There he was, standing right in front of her! She'd seen him in the store nearly every day for a week, always dressed in a heavy coat, gloves in his hands, glancing at items on shelves near her department but never in it. He didn't seem to be shopping so much as killing time. Now and then he'd glance her way, then turn and move in another direction. He had thick dark hair and piercing light hazel eyes, and skin the color of a latte with extra cream. Eminently lickable.

He met her gaze and smiled back. Beautiful smile. His eye teeth seemed a little more pointed than the others, which gave him a playboy vampire look. Mmm.

"I've exhausted the better part of a week looking for a Christmas gift for a woman I barely know." He spread his hands in a help-me gesture, gloves in one hand. "I know little about perfume. How does one pick such a thing for a lady?"

A woman he barely knows. Hmm. That means he's not attached to her. "Is she a relative, friend, or co-worker?"

He tilted his head. "Does that matter?"

"If she's related to you then her body chemistry may resemble yours, so you'd be more likely to react to scents in a similar way. If she's a friend, you may know her habits and likes. Is she sports oriented, or more glamor and fashion? And if she's a co-worker and you share a workspace, you'll want a very light perfume that won't overpower a closed office."

While she'd been speaking, he'd curled one hand and set the back of his manicured fingers against his chin. He stroked it, the move so graceful she almost didn't notice he was staring at her.

He seemed to break out of his reverie, and lowered his hand. "That's a brilliant deduction. Something I'd never have considered. She works in a public place, around people." He gestured around him. "Somewhat like this."

"Then she'd likely prefer a light fragrance. When you deal with the public, you don't want your personal scent to get in the way."

"How true. One must take care that one's scent does not influence others." He spoke with an old world cadence, as if he'd stepped outside of time and into her present. "If it's not too impertinent, may I ask what you're wearing? I find it most... pleasant."

"Why, thank you." She felt herself blushing. The man's hazel-eyed gaze held hers as if willing her not to look away. As if he were drawing her toward him. She fumbled with the sliding door on the back of the glass case where she stood. "Um... this--" She turned her attention to the bottle she'd almost overturned. "That is, this is what I use." She withdrew the slender container of green liquid. "It's called Mystirious. Very light. The story behind it is that it was created to resemble the misty forests of the creator's homeland, somewhere in central Europe."

"Romania."

"Pardon?"

"Romania. The creator. This is by Count Laudarc, is it not?"

"Why, yes. How did you know that? I thought you didn't know much about perfume."

"About perfume, no. But Count Laudarc's family and mine have ... they were acquainted for many years. I recognize his crest." He gestured to the logo. "His family is from Romania." He made a slight bow. "As am I." He nodded toward the bottle. "I'll take it."

"Very well." She gave an inner squeal at having made a sale so easily, and the commission on this line of fragrance was quite high -- to match the price. "Shall I wrap it for you?"

He gestured toward the bottle. "May I?" When she gave it to him, he pulled off the cap and sniffed it, then shook his head. "One cannot appreciate the scent without spraying it. I'd rather not wear it myself." He met her gaze, and again she felt that same inward tugging, as if he drew her forward on a leash attached to her heart. "May I impose upon you to..." He motioned with the bottle.

"Of course. I have a tester bottle, so you won't have to open this one."

"No, I don't mind. I want to be sure this bottle has the same scent."

She paused, and then nodded. Taking the bottle from him, she held it about eight inches away from her wrist and spritzed it, then rubbed her wrists together and held out her hand.

He set down his gloves, and reached for her with extreme care, as if he were about to pick up a priceless gem. Using both hands, he lifted her hand and forearm and leaned forward to take a small sniff. He closed his eyes as if in rapture.

"Perfect." The whispered word sent a warm shiver through her, and she swallowed. He met her gaze, her arm still in his hands, and smiled. His eye teeth seemed a bit more sharp. Or were they longer?

Ridiculous. She swallowed again. "Sh-shall I wrap it?"

"Please do." He released her, reached into a pocket and pulled out a slim wallet. "Do you take cash?"

"Of course." She slid the bottle into its box, slid it into a slim bag and added shredded, glittery paper. She set it on the counter.

"Did you know" -- He opened his wallet -- "that I have come here every day to see you?"

She blinked. One hand against her chest, she held her breath a moment. "M-me?"

"Yes." He withdrew two high denomination bills. "I was trying to work up the courage to meet you, and couldn't decide how to go about it." The playboy vampire image vanished. He was simply a man, a little embarrassed, but with an endearing smile. "The perfume idea seemed a good one."

"So-- you did want to buy it for a friend?"

"One I hope to know much better very soon." He laid the bills in her hand and closed her fingers over them. "Please keep the change. May I take you to dinner? Tonight."

Her cheeks felt hot. She felt drawn, pulled toward the decision, as if it were the only right thing to do. "Yes. I--I'm off at seven."

"I shall be here." He pulled on his gloves, and gave her a slight bow. "Until tonight."

"Until tonight." She smiled, her spirits soaring as she considered getting to know him. "Oh, wait!"

He turned back, a question in his eyes.

"You forgot the gift for your friend."

"No, my friend. I did not." He inclined his head. "Merry Christmas."
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photos courtesy of photoxpress, and canstockphoto