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If Only I Was Single Part 1
(Michael R. Olsen)

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Viktor Ukrainetz had just completed the largest coffee sale, that his company had ever completed. He was to send beans from his South African base to the United States, for use in a famous coffee house franchise. The average sized man wiped his receding hairline of some sweat. The heat in the Atlanta area was unusually warm and humid today. He had hardly noticed due to the fact that the final negotiations and contract signings were going so well. Now as the obligatory handshakes were complete, Viktor could sit back and relax. He sat in a high back leather chair and looked out the window at the city. It was late summer and the sun shone down beautifully upon the buildings. He decided that since it was late enough in the day he would go to his hotel lounge for a few drinks, to celebrate the deal. As he entered the lounge, he quickly scanned the room. He looked and saw: one bartender, two female patrons, and six or seven men, all in suits sipping their drinks. He did not know any of them. He looked again at the two females sitting at the bar. One was an older lady, not bad looking for her age. The younger woman was a decent looking blonde. She had some meat on her bones, healthy looking, not heavy. With shoulder length hair, he thought to himself, ?if only I was single.?He found a booth against the wall and sat himself down. He ordered a Scotch on the Rocks, from the attractive, red head waitress. She had appeared from the back room, followed by a second male bartender. After his third drink he looked at his watch, 7 PM. Tomorrow, he thought, he would catch an early flight and be back in Boston before he was suppose to be, so he could surprise, his lovely wife. He was interrupted by a quiet female voice, ?Can I join you, sir??He looked up and straight into the two most beautiful, brown gray eyes. It was the blonde lady from the bar area that he had spied earlier. He scanned her from the front. She was dressed in a dark business outfit. A jacket that gave a hint of cleavage, and a skirt that hid the top half of a pair of legs. Not the bony legs he was accustomed to seeing on the younger women, who thought that seeing their bones made them sexy. These were healthy legs with a little meat on them, just enough to give the muscle a sexy definition.



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