kashmir
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Talk in song from tongues of lilting grace
Sounds caress my ear
And not a word I heard could I relate
The story was quite clear

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My coworkers had warned me to avoid him because he didn't seem to enjoy female attention. That was on my mind as I entered the usual pub wearing the most feminine clothes I could find in my closet. Tina, one of my closest colleagues, forbade me from wearing my usual total-black suit, so I opted for this bordeaux gathered hem dress with a bow on the back and a heart-shaped neckline instead. The temperature in the pub was so high that I had to take off my beige trenchcoat right away. My heels clanked against the floor as I approached the large table full of familiar faces, except for the eccentric blonde lawyer who was flirting with Paul, and Mr. White who was watching me from the head of the table. I imagined him so differently that it took me a while to figure out who I was looking at and how to avoid his gaze from then on.

With his grizzled hair and sun-tanned face, he looked his age. A tall, middle-aged man with broad shoulders dressed in a black satin shirt and a dark red tie that nearly matched my dress. His eyes were particularly eloquent: small, surrounded by wrinkles, yet of a beautiful shade of gray. I felt ridiculous for being turned on by the way he held his cigar, an image I would freeze in my mind for the rest of the night. Was he even allowed to smoke that inside the pub?

"Welcome back, Audrey." everyone said in a toast. I raised my glass and smiled, mouthing a timid 'thank you'. I found myself troubled by all the looks I was getting. Most of them were pity-filled looks, which I loathed.

"I'm going out for a smoke." Mr. White drew all of the attention to himself, saving me from a very stressful situation. For the first time, I turned to look at him, but he was standing up and facing away from me. I got up instinctively as well. "I'll join him." Tina overheard me mumbling to myself. I could see in the corner of my eye that she was puzzled by my initiative, but I couldn't care less. I took a cigarette from my purse but purposefully left the lighter behind as I quickly reached for the entrance.

I used my scarf to cover my ivory arms as soon as I realized the cold was too much to bear. My dark pupils inspected the streets, looking for Mr. White and his unmistakable presence, but I was preceded by the warmth of his coat touching my shoulders and his deep voice whispering in the shadows.

"It's cold outside, Miss Carter." I blushed like a teenager and turned to my left, where he was standing tall. 

"Please keep it. I don't want you to be cold." That was all I could say to him. He didn't take his coat back, obviously. Instead, he decided to stare at me in silence while smoking his chunky Cuban cigar. 

I did the same and looked at him with my unlit cigarette between my lips. He took old matches from his pocket and lit one with a quick stroke to the side of the small box. Mr. White then approached me without hesitation, only wanting to get the flame as close to me as possible. When the fire touched the tip of the cigarette, it burned the paper and left a strong tobacco flavor in my mouth. From that distance, he did look frightening. A smirk constantly raised the left side of his mouth, as if he was planning something devious. I lowered my lashes only to realize that he was wearing a wedding ring. He must have sensed my disappointment because he cleared his throat to draw my attention back to his face. I smoked the cigarette quickly, returning my gaze to his unfamiliar face. He didn't move an inch. His gaze was fixed on mine, and I was so uneasy that I couldn't endure it much longer. When I let the cigarette fall and put it out with my foot, I could hear 'At Last' playing from inside the pub.

 "Did my wedding ring turn you off that much?" Never in my life would I have imagined that phrase coming out of that man's mouth so boldly. My lips parted, and I shook my head, unable to respond. "You look like you're about to flee from me, even though you were so eager to join me just a few minutes ago." He added to his previous sentence. His monotone irritated me, potentially because I felt like I was the only one who was nervous around him.

"Mr. White, you must be used to a lot of female attention." I put on a sophisticated, carefree smile. "But I was just trying to get away from the crowd back there, and you were my excuse." I didn't want him to think anything else was going on in my head, regardless of the fact that I was stupidly attracted to him at first sight. Thank goodness I didn't work for him.

"That's a shame." As he leaned against the wall, the writer averted his gaze for the first time.

"What is?"

"Being only an excuse."

"Why is it a shame?" I attempted to deepen the discussion.

"I rarely enjoy being in the company of women."

"Yeah, I heard that about you."

"Yet I suddenly crave yours."

"We're strangers."

"We sure are."

"This is a weird conversation to be having between strangers. Especially because you're married."

"Am I making you uneasy?"

"Yes. You really like teasing people, don't you?"

"You have no idea, Miss Carter."

I couldn't respond once again. My knees were trembling as I removed his coat from my shoulders and handed it back to him. He accepted it with his usual smirk and opened the door for me to get in. I fled the scene like a thief, completely taken aback by how easily he read right through me. 

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