She is in her favourite coffee shop. She loves the relaxed ambience that allows for her to engage in her favourite pastime, that of watching the world go by through the window as she sips at her coffee and taking in the various customers, the soft murmur of their chatter washing over the sound of the jazz blues background music. She is returned from her daydreaming by the recognition that she is idly tapping her spoon on the saucer of her cup. The persistence of her tapping betrays another emotion that is competing with her daydream: she is nervously excited ...
You see, today she is not using the coffee shop in her usual way of relaxing for a moment in the city. She is here at the behest of her boss. As usual he is stuck somewhere on the M5 (or so he says). Would she be a darling and meet the important client (they were always important to her boss, she thought)? He's done it before a few times and it usually meant an hour or two trying to sound interested in the dull conversation of some middle-aged, middle-England business type as he unattractively flattered her. So why the nervous excitement, then?
Aah well ... this time it was slightly different, or maybe it should be said that he was different. Six months ago she had been in this very coffee shop performing her extra-curricular 'entertain the client' admin duties, awaiting her visitor and daydreaming of the sexy fun she had planned for her husband, when he returned that evening for a couple of days away. And then the man appeared. He was indeed middle-aged but, as he scanned the room from by the door, she recognised that there was something intriguing about him. He wasn't necessarily classically handsome but he had a presence. They made eye contact and he recognised that she must be the lady about which he's been forewarned and he came over to introduce himself. As they drank their coffee he didn't drone on about business or come out with the line (which she's had before) about what's a pretty girl like you meeting strangers for coffee β she's had that one from a previous client. Instead, he asked her about herself and she found herself answering, probably saying too much in fact. After an hour it felt that she had known him for years, creating a kind of intimacy but even so, she was more than shocked about what happened next. Almost nonchalantly he said that he wanted to surprise his wife with some underwear and would she be kind enough to go and choose some for him. As surprised as she was, she found herself agreeing, even asking her size, to which he replied that his wife was the mirror image of her. And so, she left him on his laptop and went over the road to Debenhams and almost trance-like she was scanning the basques and slips. She softly laughed to herself with how ludicrous this was and chose a Janet Reger black lacy basque with silver clasps down the front and matching knickers.