"Thank you, but I'm meeting someone," Martha Anderson said to the gentleman who, having slipped into the empty chair next to her at the bar, had asked if he could buy her a drink to replace the one she'd just about finished.
It had been the second such offer the curly haired brunette had received since she'd arrived at the Toronto Ritz-Carlton a half hour before, and Martha was beginning to think that agreeing to meet at the Ritz Bar instead of in the lobby might not have been the best idea. Especially since she had taken off her wedding band, feeling it somehow inappropriate to wear, given the reason she was here. But it was too late to change either now, so she just smiled and again politely declined.
"I could just keep you company until he gets here," the fiftyish grey templed man, who said his name was Robert, suggested, not as willing to simply walk away as the seat's earlier occupant.
Under normal circumstances, being approached by an admittedly handsome man would've been a bit of an ego boost for the slim forty year old. Certainly it wasn't the sort of thing a wife and mother of three was normally used to – at least not for quite some time. But today, the circumstances were anything but ordinary and having him here when that someone arrived would definitely send the wrong message.
"Thank you again, but no," Martha said, indicating she really wasn't interested by turning back toward the bar and taking a sip of the drink she had been nursing since she sat down.
With a shrug and a smile, Robert finally accepted defeat and slid off the stool, walking down to the far end of the bar and taking a seat in a section devoid of customers. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Martha wondered if he had chosen that spot because it allowed him to watch and see who she was meeting without being too obvious about it.
That bothered Martha for a moment, until she asked herself why. After all, even if Robert saw who she was meeting, what did it matter? It wasn't like he, or anyone else in the bar, knew why she was here. And even if one of them did, it wasn't like they were ever going to see her again. What was that old saying, keep your indiscretions far from home? Well, home was a good hour's drive away, so it really didn't matter who saw her.
Picking up her cell phone from the bar, Martha noted the time and checked to insure she hadn't missed any texts. All she found, however, was the one she had read over an hour before, confirming two o'clock as their agreed-on meeting time. The clock on the phone showed it was still ten minutes to.
As she put the phone down, Martha was abruptly seized by a worrisome realization – she had to go to the bathroom. She tried to dismiss the urge, but the more she did, the more strident the need became. The ladies room was only a dozen feet down the corridor, but as far as she was concerned, it might as well have been a mile away.
As bad as being seen with a guy trying to pick her up would be, she reasoned, not being here at all come two o'clock would definitely be worse. An empty seat would look like she'd gotten cold feet and left, or not even shown up at all. No, the bathroom would simply have to wait.
Looking for any distraction, and despite the fact that she'd done so only a short time before, Martha checked her appearance in the long mirror that lined the wall behind the bar. What she saw confirmed her choice of the light blue dress she had picked to wear. Sleeveless with a hem just above her knees, it was low cut enough to give a hint of cleavage. It was the sort of thing you could wear both out to dinner or for a job interview. Around her neck she wore a simple gold chain and a small locket, a gift from her grandmother on her eighteenth birthday. Black flats completed the outfit; she had chosen comfort over style.
Then, despite the fact that her reappraisal has taken less than a minute, Martha again checked the time.
"I hope you haven't been waiting long," said a strong, slightly accented voice from behind Martha, startling the nervous woman as she snapped her head upward. "I wanted to be here early, but my meeting ran longer than expected."
In that brief interval that Martha's attention had shifted from the mirror to her phone, a tall, well dressed woman had appeared behind her. More than a decade her senior, she was slightly taller than Martha's five foot eight, with short, stylish salt and pepper hair and piercing rich blue eyes. A good five or ten pounds more than the younger woman's one forty, the new arrival nevertheless had a firm build and a well developed body. She was dressed in a casual dark blue business suit and skirt, and the highlight of her outfit was a ivory cameo brooch under the collar of a simple white buttoned down blouse.
"Dominique!" Martha said in surprise once she saw the woman's reflection in the mirror, almost spinning off the chair as she whirled around.
"Were you expecting someone else?" Dominique Lefebvre-Boulanger asked with a broad smile as Martha came to a stop.
"No, I just..." Martha replied, a clear awkwardness in her voice. "It's just that seeing you for real, I mean not just on a computer screen, I just... I mean, I'm so glad to finally meet you."
"Why don't you take a moment to breathe and relax?" Dominique suggested in a reassuring tone as she set herself down on the empty chair to Martha's left. "And I'm very glad to finally meet you as well. You're much prettier in real life."
Martha practically blushed, thinking she should say something similar, especially since it was certainly true. Instead, she found herself blurting out that she needed to use the ladies room.
"Well then, I think you should certainly attend to that," Dominique said, with a lightness in her voice. "I'll still be here when you get back. In fact, why don't I get the two of us a table while you're gone?"
Dropping off her seat, Martha said that would be great and, in response to Dominique's further inquiry, told her what she'd been drinking. As she turned to head down the hall towards the restroom, she caught sight of Robert watching the two of them from the far end of the bar. She wondered what he thought when he saw that the person she'd been waiting for was another woman. Then just as quickly, she tossed that aside, not caring what he thought. After all, even if their meeting was perfectly innocent, most men would undoubtedly conclude that it had some lascivious intent. If only to explain her lack of interest in them.
-=-=-=-
"My God, I still can't believe that I'm actually doing this," Martha said, addressing her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she finished washing her hands.
The journey that had brought her to the bar of one of the city's most luxurious hotels had begun a bit less than two years earlier, on a night Martha remembered quite clearly. She and her husband, Hugh, were enjoying a rare night out without the kids, having dinner at an intimate restaurant, as opposed to the more family friendly sort that was their norm, before heading off to see a movie – again of a more adult variety. That the film was the latest installment of a popular spy series, a favorite of her husband's, was a concession Martha had been willing to make since she had chosen the restaurant.
The action adventure film had its share of obligatory fight scenes and special effects, as well as the almost traditional love scene between the hero and the glamorous but misguided female lead that he seduces and convinces to come over to his side. It was during that scene that something changed in Martha, something quite unexpected.
