We Meet Again
Author's notes: I claim the copyright to this story, and it may not be posted elsewhere except by express written (electronic counts as written) permission. This is a work of fiction, and no real person is represented here except for the conductor of the Atlanta Symphony, who plays a very minor part. As a celebrity he is fair game for what he does in my mind, and in this story. He makes two cameo appearances. The setting is Atlanta, Georgia, and the streets and places are real, except for the office building where David works. I have taken literary license in moving the studios of the TV station to another location. My apologies to whatever business was destroyed to make room for the studio. This story was edited by
CopyCarver,
who has been an immense help in bringing the story to completion. It's my first attempt at a romantic story. I'm a male, so it isn't gushy. There is some sex in the story, placed there to provide a measure of erotic realism. No animals were killed, and no greenspace violated in the making of this story. The story was posted here earlier by chapter, in 11 submissions. This is the entire story. Feedback is the only payment a writer gets at Literotica, so please pay me.
Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter
I descended in an otherwise unoccupied elevator from my office on the sixteenth floor to the lobby level, anticipating lunch at Mary Mac's Tea Room. I'm a creature of habit, and have always eaten there except on the weekends or when I'm out of town. The food is always good.
Well, there was a short period when it wasn't. The place had been sold, and the new owner lacked the dedication that Mary had put into her restaurant. As a result, the quality suffered. She didn't like that because her name was still used to identify the establishment so she bought it back, in turn restoring the quality. The lost customers returned. It was a small place, actually, on Ponce de Leon Avenue, just a block or two off Peachtree Street and within walking distance of my office.
I turned the corner from West Peachtree Street onto North and began the easy walk up a slight incline to Peachtree Street, then left over to Ponce, and right. I could see the place now, a short distance down Ponce on the left. My eyes caught sight of a very nice-looking woman just entering the restaurant.
"Down, boy," I told my budding erection. But she
was
a piece of eye candy, nobody would argue that point. As I entered the restaurant a moment or two later, Mary grabbed and hugged me.
"Hi, David. You want a menu, or are you brave enough today to try the special? Salmon covered in a dressing laced with a hint of horseradish?" She led me to the booth I have used for eight years, since I first joined Ross and Faber, Architects, as one of several vice presidents.
"If you recommend it, pretty lady, I'll try it." Mary beamed at the complement.
"Good. I'll have Suzie bring it out." She seated me and wandered toward the kitchen, gracefully interacting with several other customers along the way.
I noticed the usual crowd, and a few I didn't recognize, but didn't see the woman that had intrigued my interest anywhere. None of my office friends ate here. They preferred the upscale high-priced places, but I liked the home-style cooking Mary served. I even brought clients here, and it didn't hurt our business any. Mary had gleaned a few kudos from them, too.
My back was to the restrooms so I couldn't see in that direction, but I heard the woman in the booth behind me ordering from the menu. That booth had been empty when I was seated. There was something about the lilt in her voice that seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. Suzie brought me a glass of sweet tea, telling me the salmon would be 'up' soon.
"Thanks, Suzie," I replied. I flashed her my swoon-maker smile as she turned to leave.
I kept mulling that voice over in my mind, trying to place it, but my memory just wouldn't pull it out. I decided to make a trip to the restroom to see if I could recognize the person with the lilting voice upon my return.
As I returned, I glanced unobtrusively at the woman. It was the woman I had seen earlier. Still no recognition came to me. She was a lovely thing, though. She had beautiful auburn hair that cascaded below her shoulders in a provocative style that turned heads. And her eyes. Behind frameless glasses were green, playful orbs that could pierce your heart.
As I took my seat I was still pondering from where I might know her. I was certain I did, but from ...? It was at that very moment, as Suzie was placing my salmon before me, that I blurted out loudly, "Nancy Worthington," to nobody in particular. I wasn't sure it was her, but the resemblance was there.
Suzie backed away abruptly. Her mouth was about to fall open when the lady behind me slid from her booth. As the stranger's eyes scanned the dining area she questioned, "Who called my name?"
"You're Nancy Worthington? Of Sprayberry High School in Savannah?" I countered, blushing a bit.
"I am. And you are... you're David Duncan! My God, David, it's been a long time. Don't you recognize me?"
"Uh... sure. Sure I do. It's the hair and glasses that threw me off for a moment," I recovered. "It used to be blonde." I smiled my killer smile again. The eye candy was my girlfriend from eighteen years ago, and she was as stunning now as then. I offered my hand, but she slapped it away.
"I'm taking no handshake from you, you son-of-a-gun!" She enveloped me with her arms, squeezing as hard as she could. I would have returned the hug but her arms trapped mine.
Suzie was still standing there, mouth agape, but was beginning to break into a smile. "Suzie, bring Miss... Mrs.... Ms... Worthington's order to my booth and put it on my tab."
"Certainly, Mr. Duncan," Suzie replied, now smiling brightly.
I motioned an invitation for Nancy to join me in my booth. She reached over for her purse and accepted.
"You don't have to buy my lunch, you know."
"Yes I do. You're in my booth, and nobody but me pays for meals served at this table; at least not while I'm here."
"You're a hard man to deal with; you know that, don't you?"
"So I've been told. But I'm really a pussycat for a good-looking lady like yourself," I quipped.
She beamed at the compliment. "Really, David, I insist. I can pay my own way."
"I don't doubt that for a second, but this one is on me. How long has it been since we were together?"
"You mean since we were 'together' together? Or since we were at the same place at the same time?
"Picky, picky!" I exclaimed as Suzie placed our meals on the table, leaving quickly to avoid overhearing our private conversation. "Let's start with the latter. My memory is like a sieve.
"Do you remember Jacob Lansing's New Year's Eve party at the Hilton in Savannah twelve years ago?"
"Indeed I do. And I remember now. You were there with what's his name?"
"Roger. Roger Samples. And you were with that slut I walked in on while she was fucking you six years earlier."
"You mean Sally Wilson? She's not a slut. Don't be so judgmental."
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be. But she's what caused our breakup. We were an item, I thought. I had a key to your place and all that. And when I used it to bring something over when you weren't supposed to be there, and I found the two of you rutting around in your bed, I freaked out! I never wanted to lay eyes on you again. Boy, was I pissed. Did you even know I was there?"
"Yeah, I knew, after you slammed the door leaving. But..."
"Why did you do it, David? We were so close then."
"I know. I was just a horny 19 year-old. And you were saving yourself for your wedding night, you told me. I just got carried away. I tried to explain..."
"Yeah, I guess so. But I didn't want to hear it. I was grooming you for a wedding, and you did that to me."
"Have you forgiven me?" I smiled.
"Oh, time heals things, I guess. So, it's no big deal now. Yes. You're forgiven. But now I won't object if you pay for lunch."
"You haven't changed a bit, Nancy. You just said exactly what I assumed you'd say."
"I'm that predictable?" she grinned.
