Miss Constance, or Lily, as she was affectionately named, seemed to enter this bar each and every night to no device at all. She did not seek the attention of males, nor did she pose risk to the management, she very seldom drank, she merely seemed to enjoy the slow, sensuality of the jukebox. Every step that she stepped, she exuded stamina. Her glare took down disco balls weekly, the kick in her hips knocked down all who dared take their curiosity further.
Lily strolled through the dimly-lit, sexy, underground bar as if she owned each floor tile her platform heel skated across, and she was in no mood to rush. Much like the dance of two birds of the Amazon, she preferred to glide along the floor and illuminate every sequin and woven silk thread at her disposal.
She had no desire to be desired. Lily was the type of woman who lived alone and preferred to keep it that way. She was the envy of every women, and at her knees she had most of their men. She was a stunning creature, the softness and subtle nature of a demure butterfly with the curves and sting of a snake.
She pressed herself upon the jukebox, her thick, chocolate locks fell like a curtain to the cold metal panel. With long, slender fingers laced in gold, she played with the jukebox shuffle button, sifting through the “Classic Jazz” of the 1940’s and 1950’s, she cared not of time. Selection was not based on the choice of instrument, neither was it the artist, she chose based on the soul of it, like her voice, it was painfully soothing.
Miss “C” was brought up in a home of great scenery – A piano in the front room, a blazing fireplace next to the white, leather sofa and a bear skin rug laid across the floor. It was to no curiosity that she felt at home in the sleazy underground world with its soulful melodies, shady characters and the smell of martini hitting cold glass.
Her hips began to sway to the painfully drawn harmonies of the saxophones and violins. The rhythm excited her. As she gently moved herself, the walls began to melt. The eyes of the room sparkled and the grins of several seemed to elevate the room. Lily’s charm was not that she had this ability, but that she did not flaunt it. She had more power than a three-point-two, turbo engine, yet she played nothing but aces, because that’s what Lily did. Lily had always let others play the game for her, while she held the chips.
To Be Continued …