Author's note:
This is a stand-alone romance of roughly 18k words. As always, everything and everybody is fictional and any resemblance random.
As usual, I prefer to tell a story containing sexual acts instead of sexual acts driving a story so if you're looking for quick stimulation, I'm afraid this isn't the right story for you.
My thanks go to my editors Joffa and Anon. Their contribution makes my story readable. All mistakes you find happened only after their final input and are totally my fault and responsibility.
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Prelude
I stood in the back of the ballroom, listening to an uncharismatic speaker giving an uninspired laudation. His speech was totally underwhelming, considering the scintillating woman he announced. That was something I had to admit. Whatever you thought of her otherwise, she definitely wasn't a wallflower.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, now please welcome the director of the foundation, Tamara Hallford."
Unsurprisingly, there were no shouting or wolf-whistling. Instead, the distinguished crowd consisting of the who's who of the local society politely clapped their hands while Tamara stepped forward from behind the curtain, dressed in a whitish evening gown. She was as devastatingly beautiful as when I first met her, standing at one metre seventy-seven, a body most women would kill for with long, perfectly formed legs, wonderfully curved hips, a flat and trim stomach and breasts that were neither too big nor too small. Her face, framed with that perfect, blonde-brunette hair, still showed that same inexplicable, timeless beauty. But something was distinctly different. It wasn't a visual characteristic per se, it was more intangible. I don't know how many people would recognise it for what it was but I did so immediately, mostly because of our common history. She was at peace with herself. Something she hadn't been during our first encounter five and a half years ago.
Since I had decided to attend this fundraiser, I had thought a lot about how our paths had crossed a couple of years back. I had heard of Tamara Hallford long before I first met her. Everybody had. At the time, she was what used to be called an It-girl. Nowadays, she would probably be classified as a social-media-influencer. Famous for being famous. I never cared enough to try and find out if there was a reason for her renown. It wasn't as if I had expected to ever meet her.
Six years earlier
"Rick, can you come to my office, please?"
The phone had interrupted me and the caller had skipped straight past the preliminaries.
"You need me immediately or can I finish the Osmond-report first? I'm almost done. Just the last couple of paragraphs to edit. Another hour or so. I'd hate to interrupt. You know how it is..."
I received an affirmative grunt from Alan. Being interrupted at this stage was very inconvenient and he knew that.
"Any time today is fine. I've got a new assignment for you."
I groaned inwardly. I had announced a four weeks holiday, having worked every waking minute for nine months nonstop on the Osmond-project, right after finishing another five months assignment before that. Today, Thursday, I wanted to finish the project-report and the final invoice, tomorrow Friday, I would tie up the last few loose ends here in the office and on Saturday, I'd dress in my beachwear and take off for Mauritius.
Unfortunately, I'd be going there alone as my last girlfriend, Sabrina, had broken up with me, halfway through the Osmond-project. I can't say I was very surprised. When she left me, we hadn't seen each other for almost two weeks and the last time we had been intimate was even longer. It wasn't her fault either, it was mine. Working fourteen and more hours a day, six or seven days a week might be great for your career but it's definitely not boosting a relationship.
"You know I'm due for a holiday, don't you?" I cautiously inquired. Alan was usually up-to-date on these questions and I wondered why he would be giving me a new assignment so quickly. "It's booked, paid for, and there's a beach chair loudly calling my name."
"I know and you'll get your holiday. The customer is willing to wait for your return as long as they get you as the project manager, but for various reasons I need to inform you before you leave."
That was a sneaky approach. He knew very well that I would start working on the project plan while on holiday if I had an assignment waiting for me. He didn't even need to ask me, that's just my character. But there was also something concealed in that statement and there was barely hidden excitement in Alan's voice.
"Sounds like there's a salary negotiation coming up."
I was only half-joking, even though I couldn't complain about my current salary, either. I was a long way from earning the insane Wall Street-salaries and bonuses, but I couldn't remember the last time I had managed to spend more than half of my monthly salary before the next one came in. I didn't throw my money out the window but at the same time, I definitely didn't live frugally. A nice apartment, a luxury car, a cleaning lady that came twice a week, regular restaurant visits, the latest technologies, and the likes. Alan chuckled on his side of the line.
"Let's talk about that later. Is your calendar up to date? Can I ask Tracy to book something?"
"Sure. She doesn't even need to check back. As long as it's in the afternoon, I'm fine. Please ask her to just put an appointment into my schedule and I'll be there."
We ended the call and I sighed. I wasn't particularly happy with Alan's slightly underhand approach, but we were friends and as such he had earned himself some leeway, especially as there wasn't malicious intent. I believed him when he said he had reasons to talk to me before my holiday. I loved my job and I enjoyed working for this company. The people were great, the corporate culture was fantastic, and I was given the freedom I needed to perform.