I noticed Paula when I registered in the Hilton lobby for the tenth reunion of my class. Paula Robins is a brunette with long shapely legs. She dresses to show her legs off, which was pretty daring at such a conservative university ten years ago. Nowadays short skirts are OK, as long as someone doesn't look like a slut. Paula's far from a slut; she's a very classy woman. When I was student, I thought of her as an "older" woman. But she's only eight years older than me, and now that I'm thirty she doesn't seem all that old. She's "Dean Robins" now, high up in the university power structure.
I've been living and working in Seattle for the past five years. It was fun to be back in San Francisco for the reunion. One goal I had in mind was meeting old friends, and there was Paula. We hadn't been friends at the time, but friendly. She was too far above me to be considered a friend. Still, I was happy to spot her in the lobby.
Paula welcomed me with a kiss on the cheek, more affectionately than is common at this kind of function. I'd worked on a special project for her eleven years earlier, so I thought the warmth was due to that. It didn't enter my mind that Paula was available because I knew about her long-term relationship with an artist named Shirley Jenkins.
I was lonely and pleased to see someone I knew. I'd been without a partner for over one year. I and Matt had decided it was best to split up, rather than torturing each other.
We shared a table at lunch and talked about our careers. I've been doing well in the advertising business, and she has won some turf battles and is a real power at the University. I asked her how Shirley was. She looked down for a moment and said, "We're not together anymore."
"I'm sorry to hear that. You were a couple for so many years."
"She found someone younger."
I was shocked by her revelation and found it hard to respond. How do you tell a person that it isn't so bad that her partner has ditched her for a younger woman? All I could do was tell her about my situation.
"I've split from my husband, so I know how you feel. It's tough, isn't it?."
"Yes it's tough, especially at night, when there's nobody to share my life."
We chatted briefly and after that went to different sessions.
That evening, after the main program, I saw Paula and asked her to join me for a drink. I got a little mellow over cocktails at the hotel bar and it just came out of mouth: "You know, I've always had a crush on you."
She looked at me closely, almost as if she was seeing me for the first time. Then she said, "A crush? I don't know how to respond to that."
I was embarrassed to have blurted out what I'd said. I tried to explain.
"I didn't mean it the way it sounded."
She smiled and asked, "How did you mean it?"
I had the distinct feeling that she was teasing me. I didn't know how to explain the attraction that I'd had for her years earlier. I felt like a silly tongue-tied girl, rather than a successful business woman.
Paula must have noticed how I felt. She reached over and held my hand. "No problem. We can talk about what you meant later. Have another drink."
We drank enough for me to feel very relaxed. Finally, we decided to leave and get ready for the next day's activities. Her room was on the twelfth floor, like mine, but closer to the elevator. As we got to the door of her room she said, "Come in, let's chat for a few minutes."
I nodded and followed her into the room. She removed her jacket and hung it in the closet. Then she asked me to hand her my jacket so that we could be more comfortable. I did that, and we sat down on the couch. I noticed her breasts under the white silk blouse. The air was charged with sexual tension. Was I imagining that, or was I just terribly lonely?
"I can mix a drink from the selection on the table," she said. "What would you like?"
"I'm not fussy. Do you have Scotch and soda? If so, that's what I'd like."
"Coming up. You drink like a man. Most women don't drink Scotch like that." "Well, I feel very much like a woman."
Paula smiled at that remark but didn't respond. She handed the drink to me and made a a drink for herself. Then she said, "Tell me about your crush on me. What did you mean by that?"
"I'm sorry, Paula. I'm embarrassed to have mentioned that crush. It happened so long ago."
"Tell me about it. I find the thought of a lovely young woman like you having a crush on me quite exciting. Do you find me attractive?"
This was what I'd been hoping for since we met at lunch. I found her attractive, very attractive. I'd never had an affair with a woman but I've always found a woman's body to be much nicer than a man's body - nicer and softer.
"Yes, I find you attractive, but it's more than just skin deep."
"What that does that mean?"
