Chapter II: What Ails the Good Doctor?
The persons, places and events in this story are creations of my imagination and are entirely and purely fictional. They are not intended to portray any persons, places, things or any events which have occurred in real life. Any similarity to same are purely coincidental.
"Yes you may," she said approvingly of his upward glance for permission to kiss further up her leg. He, like so many others, were putty in her hands, submissive fools seeking her approval. He did not know it but she was just toying with him...
It had started earlier that afternoon in the park while she was eating lunch. There she sat on a bench minding her business having a bite while advertising her beautiful legs. She could see him eyeing her as her approached from across the plaza, first thinking to himself, 'where is the best looking woman and where to sit?' and as her got closer he carefully eyed her shoes, then her legs and up more, taking in her attire until his eyes met hers and he suddenly looked down shyly, caught in the act. Uninvited he sat at the other end of the bench and started with the usual small talk. Then the check list of who she was, what she did, blah, blah, blah... Young men, so formulaic in their approach with older women. Yes, it flattered her and it did open the occasional door for some fun....
As their conversation waned she began to pack up to leave. She could tell by the look in his face and his stammering to continue the conversation that she had him fawning and frolicking for her like a puppy dog. He said something about happy hour. Without saying a word, she reached out and took his right hand, turned it palm side up, and with her pen wrote "Ste. 1497" and gently balled his fingers into a fist. She then pointed and said, "that building at the end of the park, today at 5:30, come by for a drink. I only have time for one."
Later, like clockwork, the knock at the door came. It led directly into her office, not the reception area, this was a private matter. She did things like this to throw them off. After they left she would remove the door sign with the faux suite number and her office would disappear as if it never existed. If they ever came back, they would be confused and not able to find her. She liked it that way...
As he entered she motioned him to sit in the chair before her desk. "Martini ok?" she asked. 'Certainly,' was usually the answer. She liked the drink- it was powerful, forward, strong willed and traditionally served in what she thought was a very sexy glass- fine lines and symmetry. She poured the drinks and served. She then sat on the edge of the desk before him, elevated, her hips at his eye level. Slowly she crossed here legs with deliberation, right one over the left, a slight part for a quick peek if he was attentive, then the right knee over the left exposed by the short length of her skirt.
"I enjoyed our conversation today," she said prodding. "Yes, it was nice. I'm impressed by your office- I've never been in a 'shrink's' office before. Are they all this nicely decorated?" he asked.
"Watch it," she cautioned coyly, "I've been known to shrink a few heads in my short time", and some egos too she thought to herself chuckling to over the double meaning of the cautionary statement, "I decorated it myself with some help. I like the Japanese decor very much, straight hard lines, best office I have ever had." 'Boy, is one is cute but dumb and nervous, I need to get this conversation moving' she thought. "So tell me, what is it about the office do you like best- the paintings? the wood paneled walls? the furniture? the desk ornaments?"
"The desk itself, it has a fine presence, like you....," he slipped trying to flirt with her, "I mean, uh, you have presence and it compliments you, err, you compliment it, well, you know what I mean..." he trailed off in embarrassment. Cute was fine but now goofy???
She drew on her drink, letting the silence drill into him. "You mean I look good on it? Is what you are thinking that from your vantage point I am well positioned up here?"... he nodded still trying to recover from the slip and overwhelmed by the piercing forwardness of her words... "Almost picturesque the way I lean back, one arm behind me for balance, the other holding up this martini glass, legs crossed and off the edge, the last vestiges of sunlight streaming down the street between the skyscrapers and infiltrating the windows, illuminating the room from behind me on both sides of the desk, causing my blond hair to radiate?.... Is that it?," she asked slyly wondering how big he was and smiling like a cat about to capture its prey.
"You seemed to stare at my legs at lunch. Is there something wrong with them or do you just like them? Oh please do not answer that, I am just playing with you... But you do like them, yes?" she asked again with an innocent insistence seeking affirmation, "I mean, you still seem to notice them...."
"They are quite beautiful, he confessed, "and I would be a liar to say otherwise..."
She began to sway her right foot up and down to attract his attention. She slowly licked the rim of her glass with the tip of her tongue while staring straight into his eyes. "My, my, now we are getting somewhere in this conversation," she teased, "Tell me, what would you like to do right now? Kiss them? Massage them? Oil them? Do not be afraid to tell me your deepest secret. It must have been killing you all day thinking about this moment from behind your desk this afternoon, counting the minutes, recounting the conversation, visualizing me, fantasizing what might happen over drinks, anticipating this one drink. Did you get much work done or were you... um, 'distracted'?"
