It had been a hell of a day.
Gary Morris, 38, sat on the commuter train on his way home. He'd gotten up late, he'd gotten a speeding ticket on the way to the train station, and had arrived on the platform just in time to see his train depart. When he'd gotten onto the next train they'd gone a whole four stops before they were delayed by a half hour. Once in the city, Gary had a hell of a time catching a taxi, and it had started to rain once he did, so traffic snarled, making him a total of three hours late to his office.
His personal assistant, Margaret, had called out sick, so Gary didn't get the message that his boss wanted to see him right away, and Joe Gregory had stomped in and ripped him a new one after he'd been in for only twenty minutes. His computer froze, the copier was broken, right when he needed it, and the replacement secretary Personnel had sent up was a flighty guy named Joseph who only wanted to talk to his friends on the phone all day.
Gary's lunch arrived late, and his sandwich was stuffed with peppers and onions, which Gary hated and permeated the whole sandwich even after they were removed. On top of that, the soda he'd ordered was wrong. He hated diet soda.
It was still raining when he left, and since he didn't have his umbrella, he was soaked by the time he got a cab to the train station. Now he was finally in the home stretch, only a few minutes from the station, and he feared whatever might come next. Gary's cell phone rang, and he looked and saw it was a call from home. Alice was calling and asked him to stop and pick up a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, and her favorite magazine. Gary briefly recounted his day, and Alice didn't even seem to notice, or care.
It took Gary several attempts to start the car, and he stopped at the supermarket and bought the bread and magazine, and was starting his car when he remembered the milk and went back inside. It was nearly seven thirty when he pulled into his driveway and walked in the front door.
The house was dark, and Gary made his way into the kitchen and put the bread and magazine on the counter and the milk in the refrigerator before going out into the living room and collapsing into his chair. He had experienced the shittiest day he could remember in a long, long time.
"Hello, Sweetheart," Gary heard Alice say as she entered the room. His head was back and his eyes closed, but he smiled at the sound of her soft, sultry voice. "I'm sorry you had such a terrible day." She was standing next to his chair, and he sensed her lowering herself next to him. Gary opened his eyes and looked at Alice in the darkness of the room lit only by the lights outside.
Alice Morris was 34, and had medium length blonde hair. Her eyes were large and expressive, and the prettiest shade of blue that Gary had ever seen. They had been what caught his eye when he was a college senior, and she a server at his favorite pub. Actually, it hadn't been his favorite until the night he saw Alice there. Her face was strong, in the most feminine ways, with a perky little nose, high cheekbones, and a broad jaw that came to a cute little point at her chin. Her neck has long and elegant, and even in a t-shirt she looked like royalty.
Tonight he saw that she had put on makeup and had done her hair, and she wasn't wearing a t-shirt, but her flimsy, filmy blue negligee, the one that always made him feel amorous. Alice was on her knees next to his chair, and she was holding a glass of red wine, that she held up for Gary. He took the glass and took a sip from it, the wine easing his nerves.
