Our Weekend Affair

After receiving a call from her grandmother, Francesca, nicknamed Frankie, sat drumming her fingers on the bar. Her glass of white wine was nearly empty. So deep in thought, she hadn’t noticed when a man sat next to her until he spoke. She hadn't even realized she was crying until the stranger handed her a handkerchief.

“Why is such a beautiful woman sitting by herself and crying?” he asked her in a thick Italian accent.

She looked at him. He was tall, dressed in an expensive suit, a Rolex on his wrist. He was staring at her with the sexiest blue eyes she had ever seen. With his dark hair and complexion, he looked like a Greek god, though his accent made it obvious he was Italian.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not in the habit of telling strangers my problems.” She turned her head away, planning on ignoring him, but he was very persistent.

“My name is Ricco Santoro. And you are?” He held out his hand to shake hers.

She took it and reluctantly told him her name. “I’m Francesca Spencer, but everyone calls me Frankie.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie. Now that we are no longer strangers, you can tell me what is bothering you. So what has got you so upset?” he asked as he waved the bartender over and ordered them both a drink.

When Ricco had first entered the bar and had seen her sitting all alone, he was instantly drawn to her. She wore a little black dress that showed off every curve of her slender body. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail; he couldn’t help thinking how much better it would look down. She was indeed a knockout and knew he had to meet her.

Well, why not tell him she thought, it wasn’t like she was ever going to see him again. After telling him the story, he became very quiet. She could see he was thinking about what she had just told him, then he gave her a smile that lit up his face.

“Perhaps I could help you.”

She laughed, “Unless you can give me twenty-five thousand dollars, then you can’t help me.”

“No. I will not give you the money, but I have a deal for you,” he said, looking at her lips.

Frankie knew she should get up and leave, but she was curious. “What kind of deal?”

“Have an affair with me.”

She looked at him to see if he was joking. Not sure that she heard him right, she looked at him, frowning. “What did you say?”

“Have an affair with me, just for the weekend,” he said, smiling.

“You’ll pay me twenty-five thousand dollars to have a weekend affair with you?” She stood up, her eyes flashing with anger, and she so badly wanted to slap his smug face. “I’m not a prostitute. If that’s what you’re looking for, I’m sure you can find one for a lot cheaper.”

She went to walk away, but he grabbed her arm, sending tingles up her spine. “I know you’re not a prostitute. I don’t want one of those.”

“Get your hand off me,” she snapped.

“Making love to me will be worth it, I can make you feel things you could only dream of. You need the money, and I want a weekend of sex, no strings attached.” He handed her a card and whispered in her ear. “Think about it, call me. I leave for Vegas in two days and I would love to have you join me.”

He turned and walked out leaving Frankie standing there with her mouth wide open. His breath on her neck and the way he ran his hand slowly up and down her arm left her breathless.

She went home that night and the feel of him stayed with her. The mere touch of his hand on her body set it on fire, making her wet. Embarrassed she tossed the card on the kitchen table, stripped and stepped into the shower. But she kept thinking of the stranger and what he was suggesting. Could she really do something like that? There was no doubt in her mind that sex with him would be amazing, it was just a feeling she had.

The next morning she called her grandmother to see how she was doing. She tried putting up a brave front, but Frankie knew from her voice that she was worried. If the money for the back taxes, that her grandfather neglected to pay for years wasn’t paid in the next few days the house would be taken.

Frankie could not let that happen, not after everything her grandmother had done for her. So she made the decision to call Mr. Santoro.

“Mr. Santoro. I’ve made up my mind, I’ll do it. But before we go I must have the money in my grandmother’s account right away.”

“Consider it taken care of. I will pick you up Friday morning, say 8 o’clock.”

Her hand shook as she gave him her address. Now all she had to do was come up with a lie to tell her grandmother as to where the money came from. No way could she tell her the truth, it would break her grandmother's heart if she knew the truth. She knew that taking money for sex was wrong, making her a prostitute. But it wasn't like she was ever going to do it again, and it was to save her grandmother's home.