Falling for My Dirty Uncle

"So Destiny … you looking for a job?" I ask.

"What, here? In this place?"

"You just called me out for not hiring enough women … and if I'm honest, this place could use a woman like you. Come join our team as a manager."

That’s right.

You fucking heard me. Sure, it’s a snap decision. But I never get this far without not trusting my gut and making snap decisions.

Besides, I'm in rare form tonight. Fuck. Here I am offering a manager position to a woman I've never met in my life. I don't even know if she's qualified. But something tells me she's fucking worth it.

"I don't know … I'd be awfully outnumbered," she hedges playfully.

"Which is exactly why you should accept," I say, making my point further.

"I'll consider your offer," she says, grabbing her leather jacket from the back of her stool and slipping it on. "Maybe I'll see you around."

"Wait,” I say, not letting her leave without a commitment. I know better. Besides, I know she’s feeling this. She wants to ride. “Let's do brunch tomorrow. 10 am. I'm making this easy for you. All you have to do is say yes, doll face."

She's now standing and slings her purse over one shoulder.

She looks at me for a moment without saying anything, and for the first time in my life, I think a fucking woman might actually say no.

But instead she smiles and the first thing out of her lips is, "You've got yourself a date then, Python."

That’s all she says before she turns and without looking back walks out.

I can’t move.

I’m staring at that ass sway back and forth. Back and forth.

Fucking juicy ass. Makes me want to grab it. Squeeze it.

Python, eh?

She has no idea.

Destiny

There’s a slight breeze in the air but the way the morning sun falls on my skin makes it worth it. I lay back against my seat, taking in the New York atmosphere as people around me engage in idle conversation. To my left, a couple is talking quietly, sipping lattes and nibbling at bagels while exchanging quiet looks of shy complicity.

I always liked the 230 Fifth bar because of this. There’s an inviting atmosphere, and it almost seems like you’re sitting inside a magic bubble while the true grit of New York stays outside. Not to mention the view—the bar sits on the 29th floor, right on the rooftop, and it stands right in front of the Empire State Building. That's why I chose this bar as the place for my ‘date’ with Austin…no, sorry, I meant to say Mr. Python himself. I could've settled for neutral ground, but why do something like that when I can have the home advantage?

If I’m being honest with you, I never thought that my visit to Python would end up with me going out on a date with the owner. And, of course, I never thought that the owner would be someone like Austin…

I half-expected a man in his fifties with the look of an accountant, maybe some man boobs on his chest and some dollar signs flashing in his eyes, but that’s not what I found.

Oh, no, I found something else entirely.

Austin looks good, and that’s just the most simple way of putting it. Even with his clothes on, he outshined the male dancers that were putting on a show on the stage. And they were pretty hot. I mean, you saw them, right?

Why am I even asking. Of course you saw them. Or at least saw what they were doing. You’re probably more interested in those male dancers than lil’ ol’ me.

Why don’t you Google the word ‘python’ and ‘Queens Long Island City’ and see if a place like that really exists?

What was I even talking about?

Oh right. Austin fucking Price. The hottest man I’ve ever met in my life. I mean, the way his white shirt clung to his body, hugging his biceps and hinting at a hard built chest… my panties were getting wet last night and they sure as hell are getting wet just sitting here thinking about him.