The Package Ch 01 1

Suzanne studied herself in the mirror. Staring back at her was a moderately pretty 30-something (although men would say she was stunning). Suzanne was critical, but she had to agree that her hair was superb -- thick shoulder-length auburn hair with such a shine and bounce. Her face? Oval, clear-featured with a dusting of freckles and piercing green eyes. She wore no makeup, or very little, and her complexion was good.

"All right," was her verdict, also remembering how her last boyfriend had complimented her on her "face to die for" -- just before he dumped her. Why was it that they all idolised her until they discovered her secret, then dropped her like a hot potato?

She sighed and continued her examination. Longish neck with well defined tendons that she knew looked good in a choker. Shapely shoulders and arms. 36B breasts with dark nipples showing slightly through her white lace bra. An hourglass waist (26) with a flat stomach to which slight muscle shape gave definition and made a tiny valley leading down from her tummy button to her lace knickers. The valley had a thin trail of very fine hair which added to the effect.

36 hips with a well formed behind gave way to long thin legs and shapely feet, making her 5 foot 10 inches look well proportioned. She wished her boobs were bigger and her bum smaller, but generally she felt she was in good shape. What would James think if they ever got this far? She watched in slight surprise as her nipples hardened at the thought and became more obvious through the lace.

The meeting

She had met James at a friend's barbeque, and liked him immediately. He was about her age and looked as if he exercised. She had been a bit down after Fergus had dumped her, and had responded to Izzy's invitation to try to cheer herself up. However, the music, the couples and the inanity of the whole occasion had the opposite effect, and she found herself depressed and drinking by the "bar" in the kitchen, thinking of leaving. James walked in, and she saw various emotions flit across his face -- first surprise and admiration, then concern.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

It was that totally off the wall line borne of genuine concern, not a pick up line she'd ever heard! Somehow his concern had thumped her in the chest and she felt herself tear up. Gently he took the glass out of her hand and put it down and she found herself sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. Part of her was asking, "What the hell are you doing sobbing on this man you've never met before?" The rest of her felt so comfortable with him she was amazed.

"I'm sorry," she hiccupped between sobs, and felt him lead her to the study at the front of the house and sit her down in a chair.

The study was quieter, and the only occupant left on realising how upset she was. Suzanne was grateful when he shut the door to block out the noise and give her some privacy. He came and knelt down by the chair, taking her hand gently in his.

"You don't have to tell me," he murmured softly, the concern in his face as he looked up at her, almost setting her off again.

"I'm sorry," she started again, "I've wet your shirt and ruined your handkerchief, and I must look blotchy. Thank goodness I don't wear much makeup."

He held his hand up to stop her "You still look stunning. My shirt will dry, and my handkerchief will wash."

She managed a watery giggle that turned into another sob, and she cried again quietly, the tears just running down her cheeks. He gently dabbed them away with his handkerchief and pressed her hand.

"Shhhh. Shhhh." he comforted her. "Whatever it is, it will pass. Shhhh. I know that's not much consolation now, but remember it. Shhhh. Would you like me to find someone to take you home?"

Suzanne shook her head, not trusting her voice. He knelt up, put his arm across his shoulder and she rested her head on his chest again. She felt herself calming down, with only occasional shudders and hiccups of breath shaking her body. James kept murmuring in her ear and she found the buzz of his voice soothing without having to understand what he was saying.

After what seemed like about half an hour, she whispered, "I don't even know your name." He told her, and she said, "I'm Suzanne. Would you mind if I told you a little?"

She couldn't believe that she wanted to tell this stranger her problems. Why did she feel as if she had known him forever although she knew nothing at all?

He said softly, "I would be honoured with as much or as little as you want to tell me." What a turn of phrase this man had, making her feel totally comfortable.

"I've just been dumped by my boyfriend. I came to the party to cheer myself up, but it just made me more depressed." She felt safe talking into his chest rather than looking at him.

"There are a lot of couples here," he commented.

She looked up at him, thankful for his understanding, and glimpsed his concerned face again. "Fergus was very nice, but like all the others, he dropped me when I told him about my secret." She blushed, felt his arm tighten around her, and loved him for it. "I've never really managed to keep a boyfriend for more than a few months. They all give up on me, you see.

"I've been without, and while I can do it, I don't like it. I've even tried to go out with another girl." Suzanne felt herself go hot, and realised that she was blushing right down her face and neck to her breasts. "Just to see if that would work, but I realised quite quickly that it wasn't for me. So here I am back to square one and thinking I'll never make it."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," James responded. "One day you will meet the right person. All you have to do is be as happy as you can until that happens. I won't go on about how good you look, as that's not relevant. The right person will accept your secret, and he or she will cherish you so that you'll wonder why you ever worried about it."

Suzanne twisted in his arm to look up at him, and asked, "How do you know what to say to help me to be at peace with myself again?"

His response surprised her like his first remark. "Suzanne, would you go out to dinner with me?"

I don't know what to say, she thought. Most of me wants to go out to dinner with him, but I'm afraid that he'll dump me just like the others.

As if reading her thoughts, he continued, "I know that you'll be concerned about being dumped again, but I would like to talk some more and get to know you. Obviously I don't know how I will feel about this 'secret' when you give me the privilege of knowing it, but I would like to try to understand and accept it whatever it is."

Well, if he'd wanted to reassure her, he'd certainly done that, and she accepted his invitation.