Part 1: The Jacket
Kyle had already had quite enough travel to last him a long while. Four days in San Diego, with two days shot from air travel and the following week back at home, since October-ish. In any event, it had been over six months of the same routine, the same hotel, the same client, the same suitcase and the same predictable hotel food.
The week had been particularly difficult, with all day meetings filled with intense discussion and no real decisions made. One day into this stay, the week was shaping up to be similar. He had his fill of people, but couldn't quite bring himself to go to his hotel room. He didn't even bother dropping by to hang up his jacket, but wandered right into the bar and sat, ordering a beer and leaning with both elbows on the bar.
He sat and quietly nursed his drink, allowing his eyes to scan the room. There was a man across the bar whose over-greased hair looked to be an attempt to distract from his baby-skinned water-fat face. On the far end of the opposite side, a portly businesswoman with smoker's wrinkles and an almost orange face, attempted to clean something from her half glasses. Just down the bar, a man and a woman downed shots while giggling and whispering into each other's ears. They were married, but not likely to each other.
The sparse bar and its characters were no surprise. Kyle took a swig and spun his bench to scope the tables behind him. Only one table was occupied. On the left of it, a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties leaned back in her chair. Her hair was dark brown with shades of red and rested against her shoulders and back. Her face was attractive, even if it betrayed that she was slightly chubby. She seemed to wear it well, though, the way that allure can be heightened by someone's walk, voice or attitude. She seemed to make use of her assets, flaunting her curves with a low cut blouse that showed a noticeable amount of cleavage.
Her companion sat to the right of the table, a woman who appeared to be early to mid forties. Her hair was sandy light brown, pulled back into a ponytail. Her face had its own attraction that had more to do with her facial expressions than with her features. She was thinner than her brunette counterpart, even if she used her clothing to downplay the subtle effects of age.
Trying to disguise his glances, Kyle attempted to listen in to their conversation, which was entirely financial and outside his realm of expertise. The elder woman seemed to be a mentor to the younger, passing along tips and asking the brunette to report certain figures from their day's meetings. Before long, they put away the paperwork and began to trade inside jokes with each other. Clearly, they had been working together for long enough to become friendly.
Either from the beer or from the difficulty of his day, Kyle forgot to be covert. He began staring at the brunette's cleavage, forgetting to listen to the conversation.
"See something you like, stranger?" the older woman asked, snapping her fingers to get his attention. The brunette began to laugh.
Kyle blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Gaw... Uh, sorry," he said. "Sorry about that. Long day. I was just zoning out."
"I guess I know what you mean," said the older woman. "Tell you what. You can stare at Lucy here all you want, but you're going to have to buy us drinks."
Kyle chuckled, noting the glasses in front of them and asking the bartender for refills. He carried them over and set them down. "Here you go. Again, sorry. It's just been a long week."
"Then have a seat," the older woman said. "It wouldn't be the first time someone's gotten lost in Lucy's fantastic rack," she winked at her counterpart, who shot her a look and then giggled before taking a sip of her newly refreshed drink.
He sat down and looked back and forth at them. "I'm assuming you work together. I'm Kyle."
The brunette finally spoke. "I'm Lucy," she said. "This is Brenda."
Brenda looked him up and down. "Nice to meetcha," she winked.
The next hour was a typical getting-to-know-you scenario that meandered from job descriptions to gripes to travel woes. At first, Brenda did much of the talking, but as the alcohol eased things a bit, Lucy spoke much more and the conversation became more jovial. Brenda, who spoke mostly about her on again, off again boyfriend back in Denver, tended to bring the conversation into the gutter most often, mentioning her growing love for giving head, her appreciation for toys and anal sex and the men in her office she was most aroused by.
Lucy wasn't shy on the topic either, but restrained her comments to the places she's masturbated while on business. Kyle couldn't help but picture the act, and her every word on the topic made him more and more interested in the thick brunette. His gaze drifted downward again, briefly, to her round chest. She caught him in the act and just smiled at him.
"Huh," Brenda said, leaning back into her chair. "I think I'm detecting a bit of sexual chemistry here."
Lucy's eyes widened, she blushed and took a sip of her drink.
"Definitely detecting something. Hell, why not?" Brenda continued. "Kyle here's a fine looking man. I have no idea what he's packin', but I have no doubt he'd be willing to show you."
"I... think I'd better be going," said Kyle as he began to rise from his chair.
Brenda placed her hand on his arm. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I get carried away when I'm drinking. Sit down a while longer."
"Actually, I should go," he said. "I have a long day again tomorrow."
He thanked the women for their company and walked back to his room, forgetting his jacket.
The next day was the usual meetings. Otherwise Kyle kept to himself. He returned to his hotel room at a decent hour, watched some TV, awoke and repeated another day of mind-numbing meetings.
He settled into his hotel room and attempted to put together his clothes for the next day. "Where's my gray jacket?" he asked himself. He picked up the phone and called to the front desk.
"Anyone know anything about a lost suit coat?" the young clerk yelled to his superiors. "Just a sec. I'm gonna put my manager on, okay?"
"Okay, fine."
The manager's voice droned into the phone. "Someone found your jacket a couple nights ago."
"Do you have it, then?"
"Huh?"
"I said, do you have the jacket?"
"Oh, nah. You gotta call room 238. Want me to transfer you?"
Kyle sighed. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"
The phone began to ring, until finally a voice answered. "Hello?"
"Hi. My name's Kyle, room 355. The front desk said you found my jacket."
"Kyle? Hi, it's Lucy."
"Lucy? Oh, Lucy. Hi. How you doin'?"
"Great. They crank the AC in these rooms, so I've been using your jacket to stay warm. Hope you don't mind," she joked.
"That's fine," Kyle laughed. "Can I swing by and pick it up?"
