As she dressed, Anne eyed the invitation The reception to meet the new Secretary of the Navy would provide an escape from the reality of her being alone. On a Saturday night, being alone was especially foreboding. The memories of weekends, especially when his squadron was in San Diego, were just too painful. That was when she and Rob had their special times together. But, no more! Her husband would not be coming back from his duty of killing people he had nothing against. His damaged plane's engines flamed out as he approached the carrier. He kept it aloft long enough for his radar officer to eject but couldn't avoid the final plunge into the Persian Gulf. Annie was a little relieved the body wasn't recovered She loved Rob belief but a full funeral would have been too much.
As would be expected from the daughter of an admiral and a woman who had moved from copy editor to Editor-in-Chief of California's most highly regarded magazine in years, she handled it with stoic professionalism. She hadn't even cried when the duty "bad news" officer, a commander from the San Diego Naval Station assured her that her country was grateful for his sacrifice. Nor did she laugh in the face of the chaplain who assured her that her husband was waiting for her in some nirvana in the sky. Nor could she pretend to believe in bullshit. One day she would write a book about our constant wars and the religions that justified them, but for now she kept a stiff upper lip and continued working, even harder than before.
The stiff upper lip, and the unrelenting schedule she kept worked as long as other people were around, but when she was alone it all came out. Annie cried herself to sleep almost every night for three months. And mornings were even worse when she awoke and realized she was alone in her bed. Rob would not be there with his EMHO, sailor talk for early morning hard on. That was so much for and so intimate! Her favorite game was to see if she could get him off before he awoke. Conversely she loved those times when she would awaken while he was fondling her then lie still until her own erotic sensations awoke her. Then she would grab him and pull him on top for a fast, wild screamer. Now it was merely a memory, a haunting one when she realized she was indeed not coming home, not ever.
Tonight she would escape being alone with her memories for a few hours. As she slipped into her dress she pondered the reception and how her magazine could handle it. To start with she had assigned Frank, her military editor, to attend. She explained, "Nothing is more satisfying than getting to know the people who make news, especially when we don't agree with much of it." Then she realized that, yes something was more satisfying, much more.
She had personally chosen Frank for his job at the magazine. He was young, bright, and unafraid. They would play it cool, chat with influential people, listen, watch and learn. The young man had graduated from the Naval Academy and opted for a commission in the Marine Corps. He served as a platoon leader in Afghanistan and ended up with a Silver Star and early promotion to captain.
But the war palled on him. He left the Corps to become a journalist, and he was a good one. He was also a head turner for the women on the staff. Annie recently had lunch with several of her women staffers. Unlike her daddy an admiral, Annie ran a loose ship, at least an ostensibly loose ship. Staff members were not held to strict decorum standards, but they were always reminded that, on the job, needs of the business came first. Her business luncheons were considered on the job. Annie worked her through the staff with one luncheon, hosted by the magazine, each week. The ambiance was casual, but business always came first. At a recent one, a young features writer commented on Frank "Zowie! Did you gals hear the latest? Frank's wife left him, and he's now fair game."
Another, even more crudely, said, "I'd jump his bones just to learn if that myth is true. And everybody says that black guys are absolutely great in the sack."
The 'tee hees" were broken up by Annie, "Ladies please!. Remember we are a team here. If you want to drool over someone, fantasize about someone with another magazine, but for the record I'll have someone check out our newest staff member's staff and write a story about it.." Her dad had taught her that an executive ought to end an ass kicking with a joke and a smile. It got the point across and didn't leave the offender humiliated.
Then she reflected that she entertained those very thoughts. Frank was a hunk, and she too pondered jumping his bones!
But Annie was now preparing for the meeting some fifty miles up the road. It would be hosted by a Marine Corps General and was obviously important for both the government and the military. It was an acknowledgement that the press was important to both . Annie selected the dress she would wear with great care. Good genes, a serious exercise regimen. and a careful diet made her a conversation stopper if she wished to be one. But, this was business, serious business, and a recent widow as well as the CEO of a large publishing firm had to look and act the part. She put together a stylish outfit with a beige dress and generous hint of cleavage. She was sure the general's wife would show more even though what she had weren't as nice as her own.boobs. She finished her ensemble with moderate heels and hose to match her dress. As a small concession to her femininity and her ego she selected the sexiest panties in her wardrobe. She'd know she was wearing them if nobody else did.
Amused by that thought, she grabbed her stole and headed downstairs. Ted and Nancy, good friends and journalists from the city's major newspaper were giving her a ride. Now it was off to the wilds of Camp Pendleton where nabobs of government and military would also put on a decorous front for San Diego's leading press hounds, all of whom would be hot to leap on a scandal if one occurred. And what played on Annie's mind was that she'd love to be a scandal, one involving a dozen hot young hunks! But, only in her mind. In public she had to remain the quintessential business woman and grieving widow.
The reception started with a receiving line followed by chitchat, hors d'oeuvres, and dancing. A small combo was seated off to the side. Annie played it cool. She nursed a glass of Chablis then water from the same glass. She danced with the general she'd once excoriated for a war he didn't start, but approved of publicly. She wondered what he would say if she asked him if his wife gave blow jobs. She noticed he remained properly friendly but stole a quick peek down her dress. The classy but proper businesswoman resisted the temptation to ask if they were inviting.
Annie wondered if boredom cause her to have weird thoughts at receptions.
The SecNav made sure he had a chat with her. She assured him she would stay for his talk. She didn't give him or his wife's sexual proclivities a second thought. His aide, a Navy commander, did look to be a hot hunk, but she reminded herself that she had enough fantasies to keep her from going crazy. Or perhaps she had so many damn fantasies she would actually go crazy.
Then Nancy came over. She was crying. "Oh god Annie. we have to go right now. There's been an accident and Jim has been rushed to the hospital. I saw Frank and he said he'd give you a ride home." Of course Annie sent them on the way. Jim was their kid and Annie, was treated as a favorite aunt.
Within a half hour Nancy sent her a text message. It read, "Jim okay, just superficial bruises." Annie's next thought was she would still be riding home with the hunk she'd been fantasizing about. How would she handle that? Or how would he?
Thank god they were both professionals. She sought him out, even stood beside him as the Washington bureaucrat gave his talk. His good news was that the war wouldn't be over soon and San Diego would be the richer for it. . . or was cynicism creeping in along with her creeping blue funk about being alone?
"So we will have something to write about. Do you think dissenting with our military too easy now that you don't have to march and give orders or its behalf."
Frank looked down at her with that disarming, but oh-so-sexy- smile and said, "Like the ump sez I calls em as I see's em."
Annie smiled, took a sip of her wine while looking over the rim of the glass, and asked, "Always?"
She could swear she saw a bit of extra sparkle in his eyes as her newest employee answered, "Yep, unless I'm feeling contrary as befits the Naval Academy's only wild-ass left-wing alumnus. How about it boss lady, you ready for the drive home." He was no only a hunk among hunks he was so easy to get along with. And the prurient thoughts returned.
As they made their brief exit she mused, "If his wife stays away someone will get one heluva catch here, and I'll envy whomever it is." At the car he was ever the gentleman and held the door for her, and put his hand on her arm as she got it. He even pretended not to notice when she slid into her seat and her skirt slid up to her thigh. As for herself , she wondered if it might have been done on purpose.
On their ride down the freeway through Oceanside she asked, "A SUV? I thought a wild-ass left- winger would be driving a Prius?
He replied, "Cheryl's idea. She insisted folks expected us folks to drive a big car. She left and I'll downsize before long." he poked up a classical music chAnniel on Sirius. Mozart accompanied them.
