It was a packed Friday night at the Yellow Rose strip club in Austin, Texas. Stephanie Martin glanced around the room. Cigarette smoke choked the air, but Martin didn’t notice. All she saw was the mesmerizing hazel-green eyes that lingered on her.The man with the eyes motioned her over to his table. Softly, in the din of the music, he said, “Can I buy you a drink?”
Martin sat down as the customer kept his eyes steady on her eyes.
He asked her about herself…and he listened.
She asked him if she could dance.
“I’d really just like to listen to you,” he said slipping her $50.
She insisted that she dance. Still gazing into her eyes, he lightly touched her shoulders and her hips, gentlemanly, assuredly.
“Tell me about you,” she begged.
“Oh, nothing. I work for the government.”
“It’s a very secret job.”
He shook his head. “Let me get you another drink?” He signaled the waitress.
Martin talked him into drinking a B-52 with her. “Now tell me what you do,” she begged.
His beeper went off. He looked down. “Excuse me,” he said. “It’s Fred. I’ve gotta go make a phone call.”