Special Delivery

What a productive morning! The promise of a visit at noon had motivated him. Unfortunately, this meeting with the marketing team was going over time. He chewed at his lower lip as the minutes slipped by.

His phone buzzed at 12:30, and the receptionist relayed his message. His breath caught in his throat as he listened.

She was here.

The four people of the marketing team sat around his desk, waiting for him to continue the meeting. Unconscious of his tapping pencil, he sat staring at his desk. One woman cleared her throat, and his head snapped up.

He had to make a decision.

"Um, guys? I need to take a time out," he told the group.

"Oooohhh," groaned one of the men. They had been hoping to finish soon.

"What time do we have to come back then?" asked another.

For just a moment, his eyes widened in surprise. Just as quickly, he blanked his face back into a neutral expression. Come back? There was an afternoon?

Unbidden, thoughts of an entire afternoon with her came to mind. He shoved them away.

"One - uh - one-thirty ought - ought to do it," he answered. Embarrassed to be stammering, he added briskly, "See you then?"

A reluctant chorus of agreement followed as everyone gathered up papers and left.

Standing alone, behind his chair, he gripped its back. He willed his heart to slow. It paid no attention.

Inhaling deeply, he walked across his office and out the door. Five more steps brought him to the reception area.

His visitor sat waiting in a chair, a slim package in her lap. Her eyes eagerly examined the activity in the bustling office. She's probably taking notes in her head, he chuckled to himself. She saw him two seconds after he appeared, and she carefully held her smile to a mild response. He saw her eyes light up, though. She felt more than she let the world around her see.

"Want to come in a minute?" he gestured to his office.

The corners of her mouth lifted, but all she said was a soft, "Thank you." He smiled to hear the cheer in her voice. He'd forgotten that about her.

As she stepped past him towards the office, his hands felt drawn to her. But he kept them at his sides. He followed her, back the five steps to his office.

Once inside, she walked to his desk and placed the slim package on it. He closed the door, muting the agitated sounds from the large outer office. Her back was towards him, and his eyes traveled from the tumble of long, brown curls down the length of her body to the comfortable shoes she wore.

Pants, he thought. It must be cold outside. He hadn't seen her in pants before. He firmly quashed the twinge of regret that flowed through him. A skirt offered unique opportunities. For half a second his thoughts escaped his control.

He leaned his back against the closed door, for a bit of additional support. How had he let himself be talked into this, he wondered?

She had asked to meet him briefly, just long enough to give him a gift. Each of them knew that was only an excuse. A package could be sent by courier. But no courier could carry the sight of another's face. No package could contain the touch of another's hand.

In the exchange of e-mail, however, they hadn't spoken of alternatives. She had asked to bring him the gift. He had agreed.

Only a short visit, he reminded himself. He hoped the thought would strengthen him enough to stand away from the door. But when she turned and looked at him, his watery knees weakened further.

Despite the ten feet between them, he could feel every stroke of her eyes over his face. If everyone looked at me with such delight, he thought, I'd go through my days walking on clouds. Though he smiled in return, he shook his head ever so slightly. Whatever does she see in me, he wondered?

He pulled himself away from the door and approached his desk. She stepped aside, towards the chair for visitors. They met at the front corner. Eyes searching each others' intent, both stood riveted in place. Their smiles faded. Repressed longings filled the few inches between them. Still, neither made a move.

Finally, her hands rose slowly towards him, and his hands met hers on the way. Fingers curling within each other, time held motion suspended. Risking movement with her eyes, she searched his face all over again, then slowly leaned towards him. Conflicting desires held him frozen. Helpless, he watched her approach with growing anticipation.

Her lips touched his as if to give a quick peck, but they didn't leave. A light, lingering pressure remained, not hesitant, but not insistent, either. Overcome with a tumult of feelings, he stood still, lips barely touched, hands tightening ever so slightly.

All too soon, though much too long for a quick peck, she pulled back. His heart sank at the necessary brevity. But her lips didn't quite leave his, not all the way. Instead, she unwound her fingers, still leaning towards him, and let her hands smooth their way up his arms and around the back of his neck.

There was no mistaking the intention behind this kiss. All pretense of a business friendship dissolved in their embrace. Timed by the rude objectivity of a clock, it may have lasted less than a minute. Judged by the more accurate intensity of emotions, a month's worth of yearning separation sought expression.

Nearly gasping as they stepped apart, she pushed him toward the desk.

"Do you mind opening it while I'm here?" she asked, struggling to reclaim a lighter tone.

"Sure," he answered politely, feeling doubtful about what the package held. He easily slit the single piece of tape and slid the contents from the envelope. He squinted at the printing, then smiled broadly.

"Thank you," he said.

She turned to go, and he followed dutifully. Reluctance slowed their footsteps, but obligation pushed them from his office. He held the door open for her. Meaning only to touch her back as she stepped past, his hand slid down her curves. He snatched it away.

Studiously, they avoided any touches in the waiting room. They separated.

Like a caramel pulled in two, the connection between them stretched. Sticky and persistent, the lengthening strands clung to her, down the elevator, out of the building, and into the waiting city.