I was hooked. I wanted her bad. She obviously wanted me, too, which probably meant she didn't have much sense. But I knew better than that. The heart wants what the heart wants. We were two peas in a pod. We both needed and wanted someone... to love? Hard to say. I think we both just wanted some human tenderness, which was as good a place to start as any.
I texted her the next day.
"Is Todd gone?"
She didn't answer right away, so I started second-guessing myself. But then...
"Yes, thank God. What did you have in mind, and does it involve eating my pussy?"
She gets right to the point. I like that about her.
"I'm gonna call."
I'm all thumbs when it comes to texting. And anyway, I liked the sound of her voice.
"Good morning, handsome," she said when she answered the phone.
"Good morning, Rachel. I wanted to hear your voice again."
"I sound like Minnie Mouse."
"You do not. You sound like trouble, is what you sound like."
"Minnie Mouse was trouble. Did you know she ran a whorehouse on the Disney backlot? Mickey never had a clue."
I laughed. She laughed.
"You're in a funny mood this morning."
"It's your fault, Mark. I've been feeling like a teenager ever since yesterday. In fact, you know what? This is so nuts. I'm getting wet just thinking about you. I want to feel your tongue on my pussy again, soon."
"Which is why I'm calling. What are you doing Friday?"
"Whatever I'm doing Friday can wait if that question means what I hope it means."
"What if we meet at the DiAngelo?"
"The hotel? Oh, Mark, are you sure you can afford it? The Hampton Inn would be fine with me."
"I want to impress you with my worldliness, since you won't be impressed with my body."
"Oh, right. Let me tell you, it's your good looks and your good hands that have made me so crazy horny these past few weeks. The DiAngelo! That'll be something to remember."
"I hope so."
"When? I've got a cleaning job at 10. I could cancel it..."
"No, don't. If I pick you up at noon, does that give you time to work and get ready?"
"You bet. And you know what? I'll arrange for the kids to go to my sister's after school for a play date. They'll get to hang out with their cousins and I won't have to rush home. In fact..."
She went silent.
"Hmmm?"
"Maybe I'll be visiting my sister with the kids..."
"I don't follow."
"Todd usually goes out with the office crowd for drinks Friday night, but just in case he breaks with tradition and wonders where I am, I'll get my sister to cover for me."
"She'd do that?"
"In a heartbeat. I'll hint that I've got a date. She'll be elated. She hates Todd. She thinks I'm wasting the best part of my life with him."
I wasn't sure what I thought about letting Rachel's sister in on what we were doing, but I figured Rachel knew best. I hoped so, anyway. I understood the risks I was taking. Rachel was worth it and I was ready to double down, if necessary.
***
She came out of the house dressed to the nines. Heels, black dress, pearls around her neck, her hair bouncing and glistening in the bright sunlight. She was pulling a small, wheeled suitcase, which I took from her as I helped her into the passenger seat. She smiled and raised her eyebrows as closed the door. Oh, my. This was going to be an afternoon to remember.
As I settled in on my side, she leaned in and gave me a soft kiss. The v-neck of her dress gaped a bit and exposed more of her breasts than she normally showed. I couldn't help but stare. She glanced down at herself and chuckled.
"This dress makes me feel sexy."
"That dress makes you look irresistible."
"Hold that thought. To the DiAngelo, my knight, and as quickly as this steed will take us!"
The DiAngelo was the city's oldest and most prestigious hotel. It was where the visiting celebrities stayed, where the politicians met with the press, and on this particular day, it was where the Aaron Parkhurst "Money Grows on Trees" seminar was taking place. Young disciples of the self-made wealth guru were crowding the lobby, having just finished their morning session. They were all talking at once, each one convinced that he or she would be the city's next multi-millionaire.
I had reserved our room the day before - the DiAngelo believed in late afternoon check-ins - so we avoided the busy main desk and went directly to the elevators. A line of Parkies, as they called themselves, stood behind us as the elevator doors opened. Rachel and I filed in and the car began to fill.
Just as the doors started to close there was a shout and they slid open again. A laughing couple stumbled into the front of the car. The eyes of most of the men turned towards her. She was a statuesque redhead, a little tipsy, very giggly, and built like a brick house. The man whispered something into her ear and she laughed and whispered something in reply that he seemed to like very much. And then it hit me. Todd. Rachel's husband Todd. Holy shit.
She was next to me, her arm around my waist, but hidden behind a 200-pound kid in a three-piece suit who was struggling with a binder full of sure-fire get-rich-quick schemes.
I shifted her in front of me, turned her towards me and held her, tight. She looked up. I put my finger to my lips, and Todd turned slowly to scan the faces of the other riders. He stopped on mine. He looked puzzled. Then it snapped.
"Matt, right? I never forget a face. Insurance guy? Rachel's working for you, right?"
"Mark, but otherwise, you're right. Good to see you, Todd."