The Venus Factor

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"What is it that you want?" he asked, his voice was controlled, with an almost somber-sleepy tone that slowly became intoxicating, like a perinod or fine Prussian wine.

"Just the basics really," in contrast her voice was fast, light, almost flippant, and it poured out of her mouth like molten gold, "only it's not for me-it's for a friend."

"A friend-sure." He responded with a grin that spread from ear to ear, indicating this wasn't the first time he'd heard that line before. He sat down from his place at the window looking down on the tiny match-box cars that swiveled and raced in the New York city streets below them.

She gave him a disgusted look as she crossed her arms. The skin between her freshly manicured brows crinkled into three tiny folds as she began to chide.

"Her name is Joan, but for Christ sake don't call her that!" Lexus said almost to herself as she approached the man now sitting casually in plush red chair behind the long, expensive desk covered with various names, dates, photos of pretty women with their numbers scrawled across them, a box of high-priced condoms, and a mountain of doctors appointment reminders. For a moment Lexie stopped talking and seemed caught in one of those momentary daydream-like states that would render her silent and then snap away just as suddenly as it appeared.

It snapped away.

"She HATES to be called Joan," she looked up and her unusual dark brown eyes met his," everybody calls her Dot," she paused considering something and then came to her conclusion and with erratic hand gestures finished her sentence, "so it'd be best if you called her Dot too."

"Dot." he said flatly, like a school boy in a tutoring session.

The short woman headed for the door, swinging her hips in what would seem like an exaggerated swaying motion that was not exaggerated at all. It fit her personae perfectly. The dark tendrils of curling brown hair hung to the base of her neck, and every once in a while she would shake the curls lightly. Only because she knew you were watching her every move. Her body was all curves and she knew just how to show each of them off to a maximum effect.

Lexus Donavine was exiting the room, and with that exit came a sense of anti-climax-in more ways than one.

She turned suddenly, on a heel and whipped her body around to face him. The record of the sultry saxophone he'd been playing in his head skipped. Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she rushed to the edge of the multi-purpose desk.

"Christ! I almost forgot! uh, how do it put this..." again she lapsed into that state of erratic hand gestures as no words came.

"O.k. here goes, Dot thinks this is a blind date-so I'll pay you when you pick her up." He was looking at her in a disturbing manner, so she did what she does best-elaborated.

"Look, you can see the picture, nice little Catholic girl, wanted to be a nun before this, doesn't date allot, well...doesn't date at all, she's just the type that would flip out and have a brain annurizum if she found out I'd paid a..., uh,.."

"Male Prostitute?" he filled in jovially.

"Prostitute is a strong word," she said as if she were now speaking to a ten year old, "I'd prefer to refer to you as a Financed Liaison, but as far as Dot's concerned your name is David Duchington of East Ninth street and your an up and coming writer of whatever you writers do in New York city."

She finished by taking a deep breath. And then began again, typical Lexie style.

"And I have your number, here's the down payment," she slapped a handful of twenties that she retrieved from her Armani handbag down on top of a blond woman's picture, "oh, and the address is 40 East Seventh street-I'll be there, and have a nice day!"

She was about to fly out the door in a blur of giddy excitement when David's voice called her back.

"What's this Dot like? I mean what should I wear. Flowers? Candy? A wet suit? And just were is this party?" he ended with hands raised in confusion. He had had the assumption that this 'friend' didn't really exist. The appearance of this Dot character made matters difficult at worst and interesting at best.

"Party,.....Silver Towers, Bleeker street, don't worry about that I've already gotten a limo to take the two of you there. Tux and roses

might be nice....and Dot, great personality babe! great personality!"

And with that her head disappeared from around the doorway and he could hear her giggle with anticipation as she swayed down the hall.

Turning from East Ninth street on to Third avenue David Duchington pulled the switch that allowed the canopy of his little white corvette to lower itself with a sharp hum. The wind now slide through his loose dark hair and played with their short cut strands as he approached the next light. Passing St. Mark's Place, David groaned mentally remembering Lexus's words. 'Great personality', that meant only one thing, 'you will not find this person attractive' or 'there is a reason why she wanted to be a nun'. Not that it should really matter, not for what he was getting paid, but in the end-it always made things a little easier later on if the escortee (as Lexie would say)was at least mildly attractive. Now having reached the intersection of Third Ave. and East Seventh, David took a deep breath and placed a long fingered hand on the dozen roses rapped in the clear plastic paper, tied discretely with a dark blue ribbon.

He turned with a quick yank on the wheel and the next thing he knew he was parking his little white corvette before 40 East Seventh Street. Flicking the canopy switch with a swift motion, David opened the door with a jerk and look up as he rose to see Lexie Donavine stand there in a shapely red silk dress that squeezed in all the right places. Her hair was up and piled atop her head in a manner similar to that of a Greek Goddess painting. He smiled as he dragged the roses out and presented himself with an opened palm shrug.

"What do you think?" he said turning about for examination. She looked at him devilishly and smiled.

"I think that you haven't worn that tux before an it's a little too tight in the backend. And I think if I wasn't happily married at the time I'd be tempted to say more than what I'm about to say. I love it!" She looked at him with her sprite-like face and sauntered off towards a boy dressed in a stuffy looking uniform.

She ordered the boy to take Mr. Duchington's car around back and then motioned for David to pass the keys to the boys gloved and able hands. He looked over his shoulder at the white blur that was his vehicle as the last rays of the setting sun fixed themselves on a small circular window of 40 East 7th street. The white blur disappear disappeared about a sharp corner and David Duchington turned to find Lexie

Donavine disappearing behind the large double doors. He followed in a mix of apprehension and curiosity. And he was suddenly aware of the tightness of the tux, were before, there had been none.

He retraced Lexie's steps to the double doors. Peeling the back the heavy steel portal, David braced himself mentally for the worst. Violin music fluttered through the air like silver transparent butterflies, that would land for an instant and then take to flight again. He followed the music through the small, ill-kept foyer with it's dingy welcome mat and dust bunnies breeding in the crevices. The door facing him, the source of the music was black, and he would have missed it altogether had the red of Lexie's dress not caught his eye.

Tapping softly on the camouflaged door, he felt the stiffness of the wood under his white knuckles. As if watching through water, David peered casually through the small hazy window, and watched the red figure shimmer to face him. He always marveled at the way Lexus walked as if she were floating.

"Hey! Look whose here!" she exclaimed with an authenticity that was so real, it made greetings between relatives seem impersonal. She was an actress after all, she just played the role so well, you had to remind yourself once in awhile.

"Hey, Dot! Your dates here!" she called around the dark oak wood trimmed corner.

 The transparent butterflies swarmed in the room, almost blinding him momentarily. He smiled at Lexus, in his own way, preparing for his next role. She grinned back and handed passed him a thin white envelope, the invitation to the Silver Towers Ball, stuffed with large bills. And the violin reached a crescendo as his light green eyes scrolled the setting before him.

 The lay-out was rather simple. Typical New York apartment. To his right was the well polished wooden stair case. With it's wide steps and engraved banister. There were three landings to the stairs.

They proceeded straight, then turned to the left after ten steps, then up ten steps, and finally a sharper left hand turn to bring the guest to the second floor. Typically, the bathroom, and of course the bedroom.

The colors were merely and explosion of reds and oriental patterned rugs. The carpets boasted a fifth avenue Chinese design, the reds colliding with the whites which poured into the deep blues, which faded into the royal purples. The walls were papered with an antique red and gold raised design and the floor length curtains which shadowed the singular window were a royal red. The wood finish the ran up the corners and round the floors base in a hapless chase of itself were a dark rich oak to match the stairs. There was a wide sofa, capable of holding maybe two couples and a guest-or a singular lounging couple, an obvious match to the drapes, placed in the center of the den. Stationed conveniently before him. The television, a massive screen placed strategically in an oaken stand loomed in a plump manner six feet from the sofa, a long Japanese coffee table the only barrier between them. And a long leg. A long leg covered with only an hazy black stocking stretched itself out from the oak framed opening that took up a good amount of the side wall, just under the stairs. And now noticing the leg, David became keenly aware of the scent of lavender perforating the air near his wide nostrils.

Lexie smiled again, only now to herself, and push David forward towards the music and the scent.

"Hey, Dot, uh, anytime soon now babe! Party starts a six!" she called again shielding the air with her hand as she did so. As she watched David walk coolly to the open aired door way, she creep silently, like waves of light, backwards towards the door.

 She giggled again like a school girl with an impure thought and nodded as she slide out the door, quite satisfied with her accomplishment. He leaned the length of his body along the smooth wooded frame of the door and examined 'Joan who doesn't like to be called Joan so call her Dot'. She didn't even realize his presence, or if she did, she didn't recognize it. She was leaning into an adjustable mirror that was connected to a brass vanity. Her long legs fell off the wide stool she placed herself half on half off. And he noticed that her dress, a short, a too short, black sequence Anna Sui with a plunging circular neck line, was riding up higher and higher along her smooth tight thighs as she squirmed on the white cushioned stool.

She was engaged in a heated battle trying to apply mascara. She huffed and sat up, throwing the tiny brush a side, and then stiffened as she noticed his reflection in the vanity mirror. He smiled and her entire body went rigid, she pushed her shoulders back, as if she had just been called to attention and a surprised look popped onto her face that made her eyes widen and her full lips form a perfect o.

She was not nearly as bad as he expected. In fact she was quite the other end of the spectrum. Instead of being banaustically ugly, she was unusually pretty. Her face was well angled, especially through the cheek area, her forehead was high . She had perfectly manicured eyebrows that sloped gracefully upwards towards their middle. Her eyes were a greenish blue, soft, expressive with a hint of secret to them, maybe a little childish. A marvelous nose that was straight, until the base, were it rose out with angled and curves that caught then light just right, and small nostrils that curved in semi-ovals. She hand full lips. The upper and bottom lip matched in fullness and they parted just enough to see the straight, white of her teeth. Her hair was a wavy brownish red that fell to the middle of her back.

Dot's upper body was well defined, not a full as Lexie's. Were as Lexi's body reminded one of a peacock, full of shape and bloomage, this woman's looked more like a greyhounds. All muscle and bone. Her breast were swelling mounds that were more coined shaped than circular. It was plain to see she was wearing a push-up brazier of some sort to fill the low cut outfit.

She noticed his gaze, and she suddenly felt exposed to this man's eyes, that seemed to know just how to take inventory. She cleared her throat with a cough.

"It's not mine." She stated looking at his face now.

"Pardon?" he sputtered as he brought his eyes to meet hers again, figuring he'd have all evening to take her in.

"The dress," she explained, "it's not mine, it's L's".

She had a soft voice, tinged lightly with an accent he couldn't place. Welsh maybe?

"I figured-it looks very Lexie." His tone was flat with the truth of the statement. Only Lexus would have such taste, and the nerve (or was it creative freedom-as she would say)to dress an obviously frigid friend in the sexiest outfit she owned. Too short in the legs and too low in the chest.

"Yeah...well," she cut-off her sentence, clearly embarrassed as she looked down at the momentarily at the exposed flesh at her chest that suddenly seemed to swell out like ripe fruit.

Not wanting to seem rude, David Dutchington glanced at his watch, quarter to six, the hands announced and he raised his head towards Joan, who doesn't like to be called Joan, so call her Dot.

"Yeah, umm, we should be going, uhhh," she paused as she rose from the vanity and seemed to be searching for something in the air. Her head jerked right as a semi-confused look planted itself on her face, then left, "well, never mind, let's go" and she smiled like a child up at David.

And as he was ushering long legged Dot out the shabby door, he thought that this woman-child was charming.

$

Lexie Donavine held a vast flat in the Silver Towers, and in turn this flat possessed an old-fashioned ballroom, right down to the antique marble tiles that covered the floor. And now, as David and Dot swept in, side by side, late, Lexie had half the city crushed into it. But no one seemed to notice, except for Dot. It had begun to snow as their limo had pull up to the entrance of the Silver Towers, and the weather man didn't predict an end to the coming storm anytime soon.

Prisms of light dazzled and dripped from the chandeliers like ice. And the hundreds of candles held aloft by the st ructure could not melt the frozen jewels. Oblong and ancient tables stretched themselves in various places in the great hall, atop them perched swans of ice that held berries and caviar and brightly colored sherbet lovingly between their spread wings. And the women, fluttered to and fro in a splash of rainbow costumes, as if each were trying to out-do the other with awful showiness. As winters hand gasped the Silver Towers, Dot had the crazy thought that these women would become like butterflies enclosed in amber.

And the silvery sound of violin music wafted over her skin, chasing away the cold that had settled there. The violinists let their bows rise and fall like the sea as the guests swirled in the arms of their lovers as their rebuffed spouses looked on with twisted faces and they drown themselves in champagne.