Takes a bit to get to the sex; I was trying to write a 'slow burn' sort of story.
"After you."
"No, please."
That was our introduction; a couple of conservatively dressed young middle managers trying not to beat each other out for the mediocre Marriott lobby coffee. It was day two of the national conference, but I hadn't seen her before.
And I would have remembered. Curly dark brown hair, light skin, green eyes, and a dark grey suit that did things for her - a buttoned jacket barely restraining her lovely breasts, with a hint of a light cream silk blouse underneath, and slacks which were expertly tailored - not tight, yet showing me the curves between her narrow waist and heart-shaped buttocks in a way that made me glad I'd gestured her ahead.
"Mmmm, thank you," she said, taking the first sip after stirring in the slightest bit of sugar. "I could barely get out of bed this morning. Jet lag," she added with a smile, as if to quickly move on from the reference to bed.
"Where did you come from?" I asked.
"Maryland. Long flight to San Francisco. Ugh."
"I know what you mean," I said, mainly to keep the conversation going while I stirred in cream and sugar. "I came from Austin, myself - bad enough."
"I thought that accent sounded southern," she said, grinning.
"Well, southwestern; it's a little different. Texas is so big we have a few different accents."
"My husband always says Texans will get around to how big it is within two ticks," she laughed. "Well, I'm off to a session on risk management. See ya, Tex."
I just grinned at her to cover the annoyance at being called "Tex" and the chagrin over the reference to a husband. I hadn't noticed a ring, but it had been a brief encounter, and hadn't started out with me wanting to know her marital status.
I wasn't going to the session on risk management. Just my luck.
I saw her again, sitting with a couple of other women, around midday in the room the company had reserved for lunch. I was looking around for a couple of guys I'd met in my morning session when I heard her: "Over here, Tex."
I walked over. "Actually, it's Michael," I said, smiling, trying not to sound like I was making too big a deal of it.
"Michael. I'm Kelly. Care to join us? This is Debbie and Henrietta. We all met in the morning session," she said, indicating a couple of other women who looked like they might really get off on risk management.
My interest in talking to Kelly won out over my desire to avoid having lunch with three women I didn't know (the talk always turns to something designed to embarrass or gross out the man), and besides I didn't see how I was going to back out gracefully. I sat down.
We ate the sandwiches which were provided and talked about the morning sessions. I'd been in a marketing meeting, and they feigned interest in that while I pretended to care about the latest developments in risk management. Talk turned to family; Kelly had a husband but no kids (yet), Debbie wasn't married, Henrietta was a grandmother, and I was divorced. As this information trickled around the table, I began to size Debbie up as a possible conference fling, but something just wasn't doing it for me. For her part, she seemed to be glancing at Kelly more than she was me. About the time lunch was winding up and I figured I might as well excuse myself to find my afternoon session, Henrietta mentioned a gift shop around the corner and Debbie agreed, perhaps with a touch of reluctance, to go there with her in the 20 minutes or so they had left on their break.
"Not going to the gift shop?"
"Seen it. Or one just like it," Kelly yawned. "Wow, didn't mean to sound so jaded. Really must get a lot of sleep tonight. What are you doing this afternoon?"
"Cross-training session on lean manufacturing."
"Really? Me too. You'll have to explain it all to me; I've never even seen one of our manufacturing plants."
"Don't look at me. There's one about 100 miles from where I work, but I've only been there once on a field trip."
"It really is like school sometimes, isn't it?" she laughed.
"I reckon it is."
"You reckon?" she said with an exaggerated bad imitation of a drawl.
"Ah, crud. One of my few Texas 'tell' words," as my speech prof put it. Really, I don't even own a horse."
"My husband Jerry is from Virginia. He's got a few of his own."
Ah, the husband. Well, even if I'd never get to see that fine ass of hers when it wasn't covered with equally fine wool fabric, she seemed like an agreeable person to spend time with. "What does Jerry do for a living?"
"He's a police detective." I feigned nervousness and slid my chair an inch away from hers. She giggled. "He knows I talk to strange men when I go out of town. He's not the jealous type. You'd probably like him."
"How does a nice accountant like you end up with a police detective?"
"He was a nice accountant type too. He got a FBI job, then when he got tired of moving around, he took a position with the state's white collar crime unit. Cut in pay, but it's worth it. I make enough for both of us anyway," she said matter-of-factly, reaching for a water pitcher.
We walked together to the session on lean manufacturing. The Marriott lobby and hallways were a mixture of business people in dress clothes like ourselves and vacationers with kids roaming the place in t-shirts and shorts. When we arrived, Kelly indicated a couple of seats at a table toward the back of the room. Each table had a box on it. "I've got to take this jacket off. Aren't you hot?"
"I wasn't, but it's a little warm in here." We both took our suit jackets off and put them over our seat backs. I stole a look at her breasts, and they looked as fine as I thought they would - if anything, a little bigger than I imagined, but nicely proportioned to her frame, and firm-looking. The blouse followed her curves without being overtly tight, just like the pants, and was buttoned up, but the neckline exposed a bit of collarbone. I thought about how much I'd like to run my lips along it, but I managed to keep my tongue in my head and we talked about Austin until the meeting started.
It turned out that the afternoon session involved a hands-on group project. The box on each table had lego bricks, wheels, etc. in it, and the presenter had put together a simple demonstration of lean manufacturing principles. Each group of four was to put together a sort of assembly line, and the presenter was going around helping each of us with ideas. I have to admit that I was enjoying standing next to Kelly, looking over her shoulder at the table with her. I was careful not to appear to be looking down her blouse, but just feeling that little bit of body heat and smelling a bit of perspiration from her was exciting (weird, I know - but I love the natural scent of a woman).
The presenter was very engaging, but we were paired with two other guys, one of which was just half-asleep and the other of which was a tall, thin, tense-looking guy who was determined to take charge. I was happy to let him do it, but he began to critique every move we tried to make, to the extent that none of us could do anything, and then began to brow-beat Kelly for "not doing anything." Her eyes darkened, and she looked like she was ready to take him out.
"Take it easy, man," I found myself saying.
"Well, she's just standing there watching me do everything."
"That's all any of us are doing, because you have a better idea for everything we try to do."
The tall, thin guy harrumphed, but when he saw the other man also sheepishly nod his head a bit, he backed off, and we got through the rest of the session.
When it was over I couldn't wait to get out of there. Kelly apparently had the same idea. She nodded at our sleepy friend, grabbed her jacket, and we both headed for the nearest exit.
"Thank you," she said when we got outside the door, laying a hand on my arm. Even through the shirt sleeve, her touch felt electric.
"What for?"
"You know what for."
"I just didn't want you to deck that man."
She laughed. "What an asshole. Sorry, my priest says we need to try to understand where people are coming from. He's probably actually in manufacturing, and they're making him take this stupid seminar." Married to a cop, and a churchgoer. I was lucky to get to see her collarbone. "Looks like coffee and cookie time. I'm saving calories for tonight. I understand we're going to the pier for dinner. Seafood. Yum."
"I'm ready to get out of here, and it's only day two," I admitted.
"You'll make it," she said, smiling and laying a hand on my arm again, and somehow I thought I would.
At dinner that night, decked out in khakis and a company polo shirt, I wound up at a table across the restaurant from her; I barely caught a glimpse, but she had her hair up in a ponytail and was wearing jeans and the same company polo as I. I'd gotten wedged in between another sales guy and, oddly enough, the tall thin guy, who was a much nicer human being with three beers in him. He'd apologized profusely, as had I, and in the course of conversation it proved Kelly was right. He was frustrated over having to take a entry-level cross-training course in something he'd been in his entire career. I found myself wanting to tell her.
After we left the restaurant, several of us walked around the pier looking at shops. I told myself I was randomly strolling around, but of course I was looking for Kelly, until I remembered that she had said she wanted to get as much sleep as possible. Then I started working my way back toward the hotel. I didn't see her again that night.
***
I caught myself looking for her at the coffee pot, but managed to see her as I casually walked by the table at which she was sitting. She was alone, wearing a dress - a sort of bluish-gray with ruffles. I'd left the tie and jacket behind that day, because the big bosses were off-site today in an executive session, but was otherwise dressed much like I was yesterday - white dress shirt and black pants. She moved a newspaper as I came by: an unspoken
join me.
I sat down.
"You were right," I said, and told her about our friend.
"Hmmm. Nice to know us accounting types can understand human nature too."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I laughed.
