Six o'clock in the morning comes way too early anymore, it seems. As I reach over to slam the button on the alarm clock that has been buzzing incessantly for over a minute, my mind somehow manages to override my body's desire to rollover for another 5 minutes. I turn my head for one final glance at my wife's curvaceous form lying hidden beneath the blankets. Pivoting on the edge of the bed, I force myself to a standing position and begin the morning trudge to head towards the shower. The thought of what I had planned for the morning should have been motivation enough to start my day. But a late planning meeting with a general contractor I'm working with kept me away from home and yet another home-cooked meal. But my wife was in a good mood when I finally arrived home and that kept me from slumber for a while longer, if you know what I mean.
Nice, hot and steamy showers always seem to get me started in the right direction towards resembling something human in the morning, instead of that half-awake Neanderthal I tend to be. After toweling off and drying my hair, I make my way back to the bedroom to pick out my clothes for the day. I select a nice herringbone suit for the day with an Armani tie that I bought recently and gently lay them out near the foot of the bed. As I do so, I can hear my Blackberry buzzing on top of the night stand. Good. The vibrating device doesn't wake my wife.
"Hello?" I answer.
"I've decided to take a bath," coos the voice on the other end of the line. "Plenty of room for me and then some."
I can see my wife stirring a bit in her cocoon of bed sheets.
"Oh, really?" I say. "What seems to be the trouble, Al?" Al is the name of one of my team members.
The voice replies, "The trouble is that I'm alone, completely nude, have a huge Jacuzzi tub and no one to share with. I'd say that's a problem, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, that's definitely going to cause a headache or two. I'll be there in about 45 minutes. I'll take some extra time this morning to work on a solution. It may take a few hours."
The voice feigns disappointment. "Aw. Forty-five minutes? You mean I have to lay here all by my little lonesome for that long? Whatever will I do to occupy my time?" As she says this, I think I can detect a faint buzzing sound in the background. I'm pretty sure she knows how to kill a few minutes of time.
"All right, then," I say. "I'll be out the door in a few minutes."
"Don't' be late," sighs the voice. "I guess I'll just have to start without you." Click. The voice really knows how to press a button or two. I can already feel myself start to stiffen underneath the towel wrapped around my waist.
My wife is still caught in the mystical world found somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She rolls over with her eyes still closed and half whispers, "Work calling you already?"
"Yeah," I reply. "Apparently there's a foul up with the contractor. Seems the engineer has specified the wrong concrete for the superstructure. It wouldn't be a problem if he hadn't already poured several of the footings. I'm going to have to figure out whether we need to destroy the footings and start over."
"Sounds like your day just went to hell before it started," she says, still nearly comatose.
I try to soothe any thoughts of another late evening. "I'll call you around noon. It might cause a few delays on the construction side, but they shouldn't need me for anything on-site for a few days."
"Okay, sounds good," she whispers. A kiss on the cheek seals the deal. No sense taking any chances by being gone more than normal. It has taken me years to perfect the personal and professional routines that I've developed.
I finish dressing and get ready to start the day. After grabbing my things from my home office, I'm in my BMW and whizzing down the cul-de-sac. I forego my usual stop to grab coffee or a latte and just point myself in the direction I need to go - the direction that will take me to the voice.
We met two years earlier at a local fundraiser for a charity I had just become involved in. Liza, (aka, the voice) had been a board member of the charity for a number of years and was sort of a professional volunteer. She sat on numerous boards and headed events and fundraisers for a number of them. Liza was more attracted to the social status of being involved than she was to the mission of those organizations. In the corporate world, anyone who is anyone tries to be involved in "giving back" since doing so looks great to your customer base and clients. In an odd sort of way, you have to donate money to make money and a hell of a lot of social and professional "networking" gets done at these types of events.
Liza was there as one of the main organizers and had been accompanied by her husband, Jack, who was an assistant electrical engineer from the engineering firm that was helping to build the enormous football stadium that I helped design as lead architect. Actually, Jack was more of an assistant-to-the-assistant type. Basically, he was a mid-level bureaucratic functionary with a bad comb over. And he is an obsessive name-dropper. Which is probably why he wanted to introduce me to Liza so badly?
And when Jack introduced us, it struck me like a wrecking ball. The first thing that grabbed my attention was her eyes. Liza has the kind of gorgeous blue eyes that a man can gaze in and see his own reflection. I immediately glanced away, nearly afraid that if I looked into those eyes any longer I'd never be able to tear myself away. Moreover, she gave me the most sensuous look and stare that saw through every layer of masculine barriers I had ever constructed. For an instant, I was totally bare and vulnerable. With one glance, she could see everything that I ever was and anything I could ever be. Judging by the way her cheeks flushed and her chest swelled, I could tell the moment was just as powerful for her. Her looks and body could be described by every superlative known in the English language and still not come close to describing how gorgeous she was. I knew from that very instant that if the opportunity ever arose, Liza and I would become lovers in a passion I could only dream of. And one that could easily consume us both. There was no questioning the lengths that a man like Jack would probably go to just to get and keep a woman like this. And it was obvious why he obviously felt he needed to do everything he could to continuously impress her and give the impression of being important. Little did he know that doing so would start his wife on this path.
Jack and Liza live in a comfortable townhouse-style condominium about 5 miles away. The short drive there gives me some time to think about the true schedule of my day, which was never scheduled to start before 10:30 anyway. And although I tell myself that the drive gives me the opportunity to plan my day, the truth is that I spend most of it anticipating and fantasizing about what the next few hours will bring.