Abigail picked up her briefcase and smiled as she inserted the stack of files into the case. Her presentation had gone well, as usual. She was the quintessential professional and it showed. She knew her way around the boardroom, and once again she had triumphed in that male-dominated arena. She prided herself on taking on the big boys and walking away a winner.
She walked out of the building and out toward the street. The rain was coming down in torrents. Always prepared, Abigail had hoisted her umbrella as she had left the building. She walked with her usual self-assured stride to the curb and endeavored to hail a taxi. She stole a quick glance at her watch and wondered to herself how she managed to fit so much into her 12-hour days. She glanced back at the street and saw the taxis flying by; passengers safely tucked in away from the rain. Never one to be a victim of circumstances, Abigail decided to take the subway back to her office across town.
She walked down the stairs and into the bowels of the city. Some women were afraid of traveling by subway alone. But Abigail had no such fear. She thought it nonsense to give up a quick means of travel simply because a few weak women had gotten themselves accosted. She walked confidently toward the platform, knowing the man who tried anything with her would get nowhere. She was tough as nails. She hadn't become the youngest female CEO by being afraid. She could stare down any man and send him away. Even the nice ones who only wanted to buy her a drink and get to know her better. They were the worst. They wanted more than her purse. They wanted her valuable time. But Abigail would have none of that. She was alone and that suited her.
She stood on the platform, looking down the tracks, impatiently waiting for the next one to appear. She noticed out of the corner of her eye a man step onto the platform. She immediately noticed his tailored suit. She gave him a quick assessment and noted the leather case and shoes. A bit fancy for a subway ride. But then she thought of her own handcrafted leather briefcase and $200 shoes. Probably another executive too impatient to wait for a taxi. The train rumbled closer and she looked forward, ready to step into the first car. As the door opened, she noticed the car was nearly empty.
Only a lone young man sat in the car, engrossed in the newspaper in his hand. Rule number 1 of city survival: never board a train without reading material. Otherwise, someone might try to engage you in conversation. She stepped inside and took a seat well away from the young man. She heard footsteps behind her. The gentleman on the platform was getting on as well. Abigail wanted to look up and take a better inventory of the well-dressed man, but fought the urge. Rule number 2 of city survival: never look a stranger in the eyes. She opened her briefcase and busied herself with her calendar.
Abigail's mind kept drifting from the calendar in her hands to the stranger who had taken a seat across from her. She wanted desperately to take a longer look. But she couldn't risk eye to eye contact. That would mean exchanging pleasantries and trying to seem nonchalant. She read the entry for the next day for the third time. But her eyes won the battle. She felt her hands lowering the calendar and her eyes raising to look across from her. Her eyes met two very brown, piercing eyes. She felt her mouth open slightly as she breathed in a deep breath. He was staring at her. His beautiful eyes were fixed on her, unblinking and unashamed. Abigail tried to lower her gaze, but found herself affixed to his stare. He was a ruggedly handsome man, with chiseled features. He had a slight smile that gleamed with mischief.
The stranger held her gaze for a few more moments, and then he waved his hand to the side. She watched the movement and then felt a sudden urge to remove her jacket. She pulled off the jacket and revealed the fitted silk shirt underneath. Abigail was not a profoundly beautiful woman, and at 39 she was showing signs of aging. But she had nice full breasts that pressed against her blouse appealingly. She always wore a suit to hide her woman's body. She did not possess a perfect figure. Too many rich meals and no time for the gym showed in her rounded tummy. Another reason to wear the jackets. But she didn't feel a bit awkward removing the jacket. It made her feel free. She reached down and unbuttoned the first two buttons on the silk blouse. She felt her nipples harden and strain against her bra.