1.
Her mouth tingles and her skin flushes with excitement and a little guilt. She continues to enjoy the swirl of tongues and teeth and lips, the feel of his hand combing deep under her hair and cradling her head as he kisses her... she runs through the gauzy events of the evening in her mind still wondering how she arrived here, on the couch in her hotel room with him, making out like teenagers.
...
Even though the conference was in the city - close enough to come home at night - everyone from the company was going to be staying at the hotel. She knew that it could be kind of tempting, going out for dinner and drinks (and drinks and drinks) at night with groups of mostly younger single people, but everyone would be there and it would just be easier, she told herself. And let her f***ing husband deal with the kids for a few days; she deserved this. And it was her birthday earlier in the week, so why not have some fun?
At the end of the day of seminars and networking, she and her friends were figuring out where to go for the night. Since they didn't have too much time to talk if they wanted to get cleaned up, they decided to meet in the hotel bar for a drink and figure it out there.
It's always kind of freeing and a little reminiscent of younger days when she stays in a hotel room by herself and gets ready to go out. Like being back in her dorm room or apartment in her single days. She lays out her outfit - sweater, blouse and skirt, the lacy lingerie that makes her feel a little bit sexy, pair of heels... She showers away the day, does her hair and makeup... the deep pink lipstick... earrings and necklace.
A deep breath.
Grabs her purse, makes sure her hotel key cards are in there (why did she ask for two? habit?) and heads to the elevator.
She doesn't notice him as she goes to the bar and sits down several stools away. Her friend from work is there, so they laugh and talk over a drink as they wait for the others.
"I think someone is checking you out" says her friend.
"Really? Is she cute?" she laughs
"Seriously... the guy down there keeps looking over at you."
Must be someone she met at this conference in the past.
"Let me see..." she says as she feigns casually looking in that direction.
She snaps her neck back around and covers her face with her hand.
Oh my God! What the f*** is he doing here? She laughs nervously and tries to sink into herself.
Her friend leans in, whispering "what? who is it?"
Whispering back, "it's a guy i used to date. Shit. Shit!"
Please don't let him come over, please don't let him come over - she repeats in her mind.
But he doesn't come over.
She gets the courage up to turn to him to acknowledge with a wave, but as soon as they smile at each other, a young brunette in a skin tight black dress sits down next to him blocking her view. The girl looks sort of familiar but she can't quite place her.
She breathes a big sigh of relief having avoided an awkward conversation as more of her friends from work and the conference begin to show up and everyone is talking and laughing, enjoying the bar and talking about things to do that night.
But why didn't he come over? She really doesn't care, but it's just kind of strange. Oh, well.
Her group has decided on a place for dinner and has a couple ideas for clubs afterward. Everyone finishes up their drinks and gathers their things to head out. She glances down the bar to where he and the brunette were, but they're gone.
"That was weird," she thinks to herself, but tries to dismiss it as a strange coincidence and figures he must have been busy with his date (wasn't he still married, though?) or workmate or whatever and couldn't talk.
She steps outside after the group and they all wait in the taxi line.
In the shadows she sees him and the brunette. The brunette stands with her back flat against the building, one leg bent with her foot on the wall, her tight curves perfectly riding her dress. They are each smoking cigarettes and the smoke swirls around in the chilly night air. The brunette purses her lips and exhales a perfect cone past his shoulder. Turning her head, the brunette locks eyes with her. With a little smile the brunette taps him and motions in her direction. He turns and offers a sly smile.
He empties the smoke from his lungs, crushes the cigarette under his foot and walks toward her.
"Hey!" he says, as if they see each other every day.
"Hey." she replies. Clever.
There's a moment of awkward silence.
"Well, f*** it." he says and leans in to hug her.
She receives him, but remains aloof.
"What're you here for?" he asks.
"Conference. You?"
"Work thing."
"Really? Is that" she motions to the brunette "your work thing?"
"Um... yeah, sort of." He leans in, "remember Jackie? Hot brunette friend of mine on facebook? Hired her to work on a project for me, and she was the only one who could make it to the conference. Tough luck."
"Are you...?"
"No. No. Well, no. But... well, no."
"From the looks of that dress, I think she might be 'yes, yes, yes'"
He laughs. "Well, yeah, I don't know."
"C'mon!" her friends call her into the taxi.
"Ok, so I guess I'll probably see you around. Have fun!" he says, walking back to Jackie.
"Ok, bye."
...
