Two days after our night at the opera, I was on the loading dock at work, checking in a truck. I was ticking pallets off my list as the guys wheeled them past. Rowdy was 30 minutes into her 15-minute break, so I was covering her truck as well, running back and forth.
The warehouse is hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. That day, it was almost bearable, but I was still dripping sweat. My hair was piled on top of my head, wrapped in a bandanna, and I was wearing my usual steel-toed boots, jeans and t-shirt.
A minor commotion drew my attention towards the office and I was shocked to see the beauty from the opera walking towards me beside Ron, our warehouse manager. She was wearing a cream-colored dress that hugged her curves and managed to be both tasteful and sexy.
"Jenny, this is Mrs. Bastrop, and she's been looking for you," Ron said.
I'm afraid I just stared, too surprised to speak.
"Hello, Jenny," the woman said, "I'm not sure if you remember me from the other night at the opera?"
"I ... I remember you," I stammered, blushing.
"Oh that's good," she said. "I've been trying to find you because I think I have something that belongs to you."
"Something that belongs to me?" I said, puzzled.
"Yes, did you lose these at the opera?" and she held out her open hand with a pair of glistening earrings. Each earring had a pear cut diamond that was at least a full carat, and they sparked fire at me even in the dim light of the warehouse.
"No, those aren't mine."
"Really?" she said, "I was just sure I saw you wearing them."
"No," I laughed. "I'd remember if I had something that beautiful."
"Oh," she said, with a tiny pout, turning to Ron. "I'm so sorry I wasted your time."
"It's no trouble," he said. "I knew it was Jenny and Rowdy who went to the opera, and I thought ... well."
"Maybe these belong to your friend?" Mrs. Bastrop said, her piercing blue eyes looking into mine as she held them out again. I laughed.
"I know Rowdy's jewelry as well as I know my own. They're not hers."
"Why don't you ask her when you get a chance, and if they're hers just give me a call," and she handed me a business card. Then she favored Ron and me with a brilliant smile and they headed back towards the office.
"Whew!" I thought, watching Ron escort her down the warehouse. Every guy in the place was frozen, staring at her ass as she walked away.
"LET'S GET IT DONE!!" shouted the foreman and the spell was broken. I walked back to my station and remembered to look at her card.
Her name and a phone number were engraved on the front. On the back she had written another number. I shoved it in my pocket.
Rowdy was furious she missed the show when she finally returned from her break. And she made me describe the encounter twice during lunch.
"Man, I would have taken those earrings in a heartbeat," Rowdy crowed.
Meanwhile, I was aware of the woman's card in my pocket through the rest of the day.
Finally my shift ended and I headed home, refusing Rowdy's suggestion to stop at a bar for a drink or 10. My apartment was my refuge, the first place I'd ever lived by myself. At home I showered, dressed and stared for a few minutes at the woman's card. A big glass of wine helped my thought process.