The Little Taste of Marrakech

It was 15 minutes before ten pm and the spacious, yet cozy, Moroccan restaurant and bar was packed. Friday and Saturday nights were always the busiest nights at the restaurant but tonight it was a haven. Given the gentle rain outside and the drop in spring temperature, the restaurant provided warmth, comfort and distraction.

The wall of the establishment was exposed brick, the floors were made of stained bamboo, and there were tasteful touches of morocco. The light fixtures were stained glass lanterns that cast a warm ethereal glow depending upon the colors. Every booth and chair was well cushioned and covered in fabric weaved with elaborate colors.

Most importantly it reminded Aziz of home. He'd wanted to create something relaxing and cozy where guest wouldn't feel the need to sit upright and eat then dash out the door. Aziz received exactly what he wanted due to careful planning and anal overseeing. To say that Aziz was anal was an understatement. Most of his staff, in fact, thought he had OCD. All candles had to be perfectly centered on the tables. The cutlery must be spotless, the napkins folded a certain way, and he must check the staff's uniforms before the night began.

His personal assistant, a short stocky Sudanese girl named Bethany, normally did the once over before he got there but sometimes she missed things. Bethany was like his left hand to his right. She handled the iceberg of his business while he was able to handle the rest. Regardless, Aziz was a thorough man who double-checked and triple checked things.

Tonight, Aziz took a drag of his hookah and spoke casually with his colleagues. He'd made sure to sit them in a cozy booth under the window so that at any moment Aziz chose to drown out the sound and music of the restaurant he could substitute it with rain. They spoke of the usual business, of mistresses and wives, of children, of mail order brides, and lastly of money.

The arguments were never anything new. It was always about who made more, whether their business practices were ethical or unethical. On average, Aziz was the quieter of the bunch. He was always much of a listener but tonight, after a few beers; he joined in a little bit more. It was to his distraction of course. She was dancing tonight. When she was dancing, it captivated everyone's attention.

That scared Aziz and he wasn't a man to fear much. He'd been shot twice, nicked in a knife fight once nearly losing his eye, and been in his share of brawls. At 32 he'd made sure to leave that behind years ago but the one thing he did fear was the power a woman had over a man. Aziz knew all too well what the love of a woman could do to a man and he'd vowed that wouldn't be him. He would rather be shot again, before that. Normally, he didn't have anything against women. Aziz found himself to be a handsome man. He had olive skin a bit on the darker side, a buff body that wasn't anything like those body builders. His hair fell in long raven waves to his shoulders, a strong jaw line with a well-trimmed beard and moustache a little longer than stubble.

Women came to him all the time and he bedded a few but never stayed with any of them. Now, she on the other hand garnered far too much of his attention. As if on cue, the music began and she sauntered out, hips rolling from side to side, two sabers balanced on her head. Sasha Montano stepped onto the circular platform erected in the middle of the restaurant. As always the music was live and filled the space, drowning out the stream of conversations.

Aziz tried to continue to engage his fellow businessmen but all he received was half assed answers. He knew it was pointless because when Sasha begins to dance all previous thoughts dissolve faster than Alka-Seltzer in water. The first time he experienced it, Aziz was dumbstruck. He'd seen many dancers before but none left him staring, mouth agape, and a raging hard on.

Sasha was beautiful; every man knew it and so did she. Her height was average, about 5'5 but that was the only average thing about her. Tonight she wore an ivory and gold costume with aquamarine accents. The colors offset her burnt sienna skin perfectly that the audience had no choice but to look at her. As Sasha's hips dropped and swiveled, Aziz's eyes followed the movement ignoring the catcalls and sounds of encouragement thrown Sasha's way. Lowering one of the sabers, Sasha brought it broadside to her crotch and wriggled suggestively. Then flipped if over her hand, grabbed the hilt, and swiveled it behind her back in one motion to hover it over her ass as she worked that area turning slowly for all to see.

Aziz tapped his foot under the table, trying to think about anything but what his eyes were focused on. She had the perfect ass. Two nicely sized semi-globes that moved in time with wide hips. What would his cock feel like plunging into all that cushion, he wondered from time to time. In fact, once she did this burlesque belly dance fusion while she stripped. Seeing that ass in various stages of undress had him nutting for days. That ass and the c-cup rack Sasha was currently balancing the edge of the saber on. She leaned back halfway, rolled her stomach muscles, with one leg lifted, all the while continuing to balance each saber on her rack and her foot.

With a mischievous spark in her brown eyes, Sasha flicked her foot up, caught the saber, snatched the second off her breasts, and began to dance in time to the quickening music while wielding each saber like a seasoned professional. Jiggle, shake, roll, swivel, spin, Aziz's eyes kept up until the room came to complete silence. Sasha smirked knowingly when the audience erupted in applause.

Sasha turned in Aziz's direction and bowed to him. She always did that whenever he was in the room. Aziz clapped grudgingly, keeping his face stoic. Of course she was good, one of the best he'd seen. He had given Bethany the task of finding new talent. When Bethany came to him with Sasha, Aziz had to admit he was skeptical. When he first met Sasha, she was a Diva in every sense of the word. She was arrogant, temperamental, stubborn, but very intelligent. She was still that way. Every time he brought himself to the brink of firing her, he always ended up booking her for an extra day. Their original agreement a year ago was she would dance once a month. Yet, if one of his bands canceled, she would be the first he dialed. Then he found himself dialing for her to fill in even when there wasn't anything booked.

Now, he just had Bethany deal with her. The two seemed to get along quite nicely. Every time he complained to Bethany about Sasha, Bethany would always keep this annoying-knowing smirk on her face. What the hell did she know that Aziz didn't? Not a single person could frazzle Aziz the way Sasha did. Sasha knew it too because then she would get that annoying-knowing smirk on her face. It was as if he was being double-teamed, triple-teamed if you counted Irena his bartender.

Sasha left the stage to change and the live music continued. She had two more performances to do before the night was done but the live music gave her a brief respite in between each performance. As she sashayed her way to the back locker rooms, Sasha's eyes locked with Aziz's and she nodded in greeting. If it was one thing, she always showed him respect regardless of their differences. Sasha gave Aziz that smirk he hated so much then disappeared into the back.

For Sasha, tormenting the uptight Aziz was a favorite past time. He was always so quiet and reserved. Never a button out of place, no stains on his shirt, shoes always shined, and sometimes he'd taken to picking up things with his handkerchief. There was even a bottle of hand sanitizer in his blazer pocket. He rarely wore sneakers or jeans, and if he did, they all looked like it came right off the rack or out the box. She used to frequent the restaurant months before she ever started dancing for him. Whether she was by herself or with her friends, Sasha always noticed Aziz hovering in the shadows. He was very invested in his business.

More like a lot of control issues. Sasha smiled as she shimmied out of her skirt and fumbled with her top. A pair of cool hands rested on her gently.

"Let me help you with that, girl." It was Irena. The olive skinned bartender was about 5'9 in height, built like a model. Actually, Irena did do some modeling on the side.

"Thanks." Sasha lifted her thick curly hair, as Irena worked with the buttons. It was because of Irena that Aziz and Sasha managed to exchange their first words.

-_-_-_-

Sasha walked into the restaurant by herself on dreary Wednesday evening. It had been snowing outside so the warmth of the restaurant was a welcomed feeling. As soon as she entered the restaurant, Sasha was approached by one of the waitresses. Eight out of the ten waitresses were from the Middle East or North Africa. All of Arabic descent, Sasha noticed.

"Hello, Miss. Table for one?" The waitress asked. Her voice heavily accented.

"Uh, no. I think I'll just sit by the bar." Sasha gave the waitress a tired smile.

"As you wish." The waitress gestured for her to go to the bar.

Dropping her tote on the seat, Sasha unwound her long thick knitted scarf from her neck. She didn't like hats much so all her scarves were long enough to use as a hood too. As she looked around the restaurant, Sasha noticed that it was practically empty. Not surprising really, it was one of those miserable days that people stayed in their houses and out of the cold.

Not Sasha, she needed some drinks in her system after yesterday. She had one of those days when she had it to the pinnacle of her patience and beyond with her employer. After the nagging bitch daughter of the gallery director tried to tell her how to do her job as a gallery assistant, Sasha had lost her cool and told her to stick the photographs, the catalogue, and the schedule up her ass to say the least. Sasha said a few more things that were a bit nastier than that but she made sure to drink all those memories away last night. It was now day two and Sasha felt like she had some celebratory moping to do.

While today was stress free it was also a reminder that Sasha just kissed goodbye to good pay, decent medical benefits, and dental. Today, she was able to curl up and read a book, play with her cat, and practice her dancing. It gave her time to think about what she'd done. Too much thinking leaves one to bleak freedom paved with nothingness. So who better to talk too than the bartender of the restaurant whose heard numerous woe-is-me stories.

On cue, Irena backed out the door that led to the kitchens with a large and heavy looking box in hand. She rests the box on the bar top, bent and fumbled with whatever was beneath the bar. Sasha walked waywardly a little further down the bar toward Irena, and leaned over the bar.

"Hey, stranger!" Sasha looked down grinning as Irena looked up.

"Ah, came to get shit faced again?" Irena grinned up at her acquaintance. "I heard you hit the pub on the corner last night after quitting your job."

"How'd you know that?" Sasha stood up straight as Irena did. The two leaned on opposite sides of the bar faces inches from each other. Sasha's light brown eyes looking into Irena's green ones.

"Well, you know me. I take care of my boos." Irena looked Sasha over suggestively then winked.

Sasha reached up and tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind Irena's ear. Her fingers traced over the eyebrows, over the strong nose known in Mediterraneans, across the bow shaped lips, and caressed the softness of Irena's jaw line.

"You are such a man-whore!" Sasha smiled. "I bet it was the cute bus boy that walked me home last night. I was hoping to score with him last night! Ahhh! I'm so glad I didn't! I would have compared myself to you all night!" Sasha covered her face in mock embarrassment. "We either need to stop going after the same men or you need to stop sleeping with half the city."

"Or maybe you need to move a little faster." Irena laughed at Sasha, head shaking. "So what will it be to start off your happy hour?"

"Hmm, let's start light... How about a Margarita?" Sasha sat down and settled in next to her bag.

"That's at light start?" Irena looked at her funny shaking her head. "Girl that is a rock and not a pebble, okay!" Nonetheless the bartender went about making the drink while Sasha grinned from ear to ear. "You didn't even say a martini."

"Martini's are for wusses. I want some pina colada next!"

"Hon, you do realize it is below twenty outside right?" Irena set the drink down in front of her. "Did you lose some sense along with that job of yours?"

Sasha blew out a breath long and hard. "I think so. Fine, all hot drinks after this starting with a Caribbean coffee."

"Now that I can do." Irena stated.

The two ladies chatted aimlessly as Irena served other customers as the evening went into night. By this time, Sasha had enough drinks in her system that her eyes glistened and she leaned slightly to one side.

Aziz, who'd been watching, thought that it was time he stepped in. Sliding behind the bar he gently took Irena's arm.

"Don't you think it is time you cut her off?" Aziz gave Sasha a once over.

"I already did. It's been regular coffee the last two cups." Irena beamed. "I got my girl. She'll be okay."

"As a man I don't think you should even allowed her to get to this point as your woman." Aziz chastised lightly.

"Hey!" Sasha was suddenly right next to them. "Don't you pick on her! I'm the customer and if I said I want more then she gives it to me."

"With all due respect, miss, you need to go to the other side of the bar." Aziz said coolly, "And how I choose to reprimand my employees is my business. I am paying them."

"Fuck that..." Sasha leaned against the bar. "I don't care who paying who. You employers always think you can get away with any and everything and no one's gonna tell you anything!"

Aziz looked to Irena questioningly. Sasha wasn't making a lot of noise, she wasn't even swaying, nor was she disturbing any of the customers. The situation, however, was fast becoming uncomfortable for Aziz personally. He was being put on the spot. He thought he was sticking up for Sasha. He already knew Irena was a man. The only thing Aziz requested was that Irena wore pants instead of dresses to work. Irena complied by wearing female pants that complemented his figure but pants nonetheless.

"Just let her vent, she just lost her job." Irena mumbled.

"I mean you think you get to say and do whatever all because you're signing the check but people have feelings too." Sasha gestured to Irena, "Poor girl doesn't even want to be a he... or called he. She wants to be feminine so you must respect that!"

While Sasha went on and on, Irena patted Aziz on the back and went back to servicing customers. Aziz felt trapped taking the rant that probably would have been said to Sasha's former employer. When Sasha finally came to a close Aziz was livid. He was called everything from cheap and disrespectful to shoddy and questionable manhood.

After Sasha handed Irena her credit card to pay, she snatched up her tote a little too roughly and giggled her head off when it weighed her down. She stepped toward the door but Irena called after her. Out of annoyance Aziz picked up Sasha and took her to break area dropping her on the couch. He threw her coat and tote on the nearby chair.

"Hey! Y-you can't treat me like this! I'm a customer!"

"Exactly! Which is why I can tell you whatever the hell I want because there will be more customers after you." Aziz stood and lifted her chin forcing her to look up at him. "You're drunk, so I'll excuse your rudeness. Secondly, whatever went on between you and your employer, taking it out on other employers will only ensure you a jobless life. Thirdly, if you want to do whatever you want then open up your own place!"

"Oh my!" Sasha giggled clapping her hands and swayed in her seat. "We've got ourselves a badass here."

"You're lucky you're a regular so I'm not tossing your ass on the street, lady." Aziz snapped as he forced her into a laying position. "Now sleep it off so Irena can take you home in the next 2 hours and the next time I see you, you'd better come back with a sober mind and a better attitude, lightweight!"

"Lightweight!" Sasha floundered to sit up but Aziz held her down, so she grabbed his collar pulling his face closer. "Bring me a bottle and we can talk about who's the lightweight!"

"At most I am bringing you is another coffee!" Aziz was anxious to get away from such close proximity to Sasha. He tried to pry her fingers from his shirt all the while praying she didn't wrinkle his clothing. On top of that her breath smelled of coffee and alcohol. It could have been worse, it could have been stale coffee or coffee and vomit considering her drunkenness. Finally prying off her fingers, Aziz stepped out to the bar to retrieve her coffee.

"Please choose your friends better, Irena." Aziz frowned.

"Really? I thought she was doing a great job at rallying to the cause of employees." Irena grinned.

"Please don't start!" Aziz gave the man a sharp look before turning back to the coffeemaker. "Bad enough you left me there with her. Just take her home when your shift is over."

"Of course. I never let my friends hang." Irena wiped down the bar once he cleared away the customers.

By the time Aziz returned with the coffee, Sasha was fast asleep. He rests the coffee on the table and surveyed Sasha's sleeping form. How'd she walk over through the ice and snow in those 4' high boots. She could have broken his scrawny neck. Women!

-_-_-_-

Sasha swathed herself in a black and gold costume this time. This one was a little more tribal than the last, darker in feel. Irena pulled Sasha's unruly curly hair into a ponytail as Sasha touched up her make up. It was normal for them not to speak much when Sasha was in the mad dash of getting dressed.

"I think you should use the spear this time." Irena suggested, picking out the unruly curls so it haloed Sasha's head more evenly. "Element of danger."

"Nah, maybe next one where the dance is more sensual. I don't have as much room for the spear as I did the swords. I might accidentally spear someone." Sasha giggled darkly. "Could you imagine what Aziz's face would look like if we got blood on his precious floors?"

"He'd have you head, this time among other things!" Irena's eyes twinkled as she chuckled. By this time, Irena had been taking her daily supplements including estrogen. Her features looked more feminine. She handed Sasha the twin daggers and Sasha tucked them into various parts of her costume.

"Is he enjoying it at least? I can't tell at all." Sasha began to walk out, Irena on her heels.

"I should think he is. Before I came back here he ordered a bottle of red zinfandel." Irena nitpicked with Sasha's hair as she walked behind her.

"What? I thought it was against his religion or his culture to drink?" Sasha stopped walking and looked up at Irena.

"That's my point. He's usually such a steadfast man and you're the only woman to make him drink."

"Bullshit. Make him stop." Sasha signaled for the musicians that she was ready. "I need him sober when I ask for an advance so he can't use 'too much drink' against me as an excuse. And bring me that spear!" She passed Irena the daggers as she returned with the spear. Sasha put on a smile as the music began and she sashayed out again.

"Easier said than done temptress." Irena muttered as she slinked off.

Sasha slunk out into the crowd weaving between the tables, purposefully slow, pausing to do stomach rolls all the while keeping the spear behind her. Aziz sat up in his seat. He'd never seen this one before. Yeah, Sasha normally did tribal fusion but usually with daggers and sabers, things that were a safe distance. Aziz tried to make eye contact with her but Sasha deftly ignored him. He poured himself a glass of wine as he quickly calculated the height of his ceiling, the distance between the light fixtures the audience and her reach. Aziz began to sweat under the collar as his fellow businessmen murmured in delight, eager to see where this was going to go. Aziz gulped down the first glass of wine then poured himself another.