(c) 2012
(PRECEDE: Hugh Davidson is a 59-year-old executive in the powerful Hunt Bank organization in Jacksonville. Two years ago he discovered his wife of 36 years, Mary, had been involved in a six-month affair with a younger man. She left him and moved in with her love. Then he learned through his children that she left her lover two months later. For two years he's lived without the sight of her or the sound of her voice. With the help of good friends and his two grown children, he's made a bachelor life of sorts for himself in Jacksonville. Then, after his daughter in New York City is nearly killed in a traffic accident, he finally has a showdown with Mary. And learns that she knows about his mid-life crisis involving other women a decade before. And that, as he hasn't been able to put her behind him, she hasn't been able to make a new life for herself. They discover they can be in the same room together, but they live on opposite coasts. And then one night Hugh goes to a bar owned by a guy named O'Brien....ED'S NOTE: I want to thank my editor and friend, curiouss, not only for technical help but also wise counsel. The story is much better for his involvement.)
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
GHOSTS IN THE LIGHT
I thought at first it was just someone who looked like her. There are a lot of tall, brown-haired ladies with great asses walking the earth and, if this one moved the way I remembered Mary moving, well, that could be a coincidence.
As I looked at her more closely, I realized it wasn't a coincidence. Mary was dancing slowly, hip-to-hip and cheek-to-cheek, with a tall blonde guy dressed in a blue pullover and blue slacks. He had to be my height, or a little taller, from the way that Mary fit against him.
They were moving slower than they had to. The song was Sarah McLachlan's 'I will remember you', "for the lovers", as O'Brien's DJ termed it. The song is slow, but they were practically statues, swaying rhythmically to the tune. I noticed he had his hand on her ass and she was rubbing her thigh against his.
What the hell? She was supposed to be in San Francisco, or New York, or anyplace but here! This was MY town now, now that she had thrown me away and fled to a better life elsewhere.
I knew it was stupid. We were divorced, long divorced. She had the right to be with anyone she wanted, to do whatever she wanted, wherever she wanted. You'd think, though, she'd have the decency not to flaunt herself in front of me!
I gently tapped my forehead against my table. The woman made me stupid. She could have no idea that I would show up at O'Brien's on a busy Friday night. In any case, she had told me that she'd had other men since leaving me AND Richard Kelly! I had no claim, no reason to even be watching her.
I tore my eyes away from her and started in on another Icehouse Draft, then pulled out my cell and punched in a number I hadn't called in a while.
"I'm only answering this because I'm curious as hell, Hugh. You haven't called me in a long time. I thought you'd moved on -- to someone more age appropriate!"
"And I thought you'd have met some nice young man and gotten married by this time, not be accepting calls from old boy friends."
"Ha! Old booty-call bed partners, you mean! Old, old bed partners."
I could sense her grin across the ether.
""Why would you be that mean?"
"Maybe because I get mean when a guy makes it clear he's only after my pussy and drops me when he gets tired of that."
"He would be a really bad guy, somebody who would do that. We don't have anybody like that around here. You know I stopped calling because you were just too much woman for me."
"Because you got bored with me outside of bed, you mean!"
"Because we missed each other by a generation, Brittany. Believe me, there have been lots of times when I wished you were either 20 years older, or I was 20 years younger, and that's no lie."
"You should have been a securities salesman, Hugh. You could sell ice to the Eskimos, as they used to say. So, why are you calling me tonight? You couldn't be desperate enough to try to talk me into giving you another taste, could you?"
"I'm sitting here at O'Brien's, on the Westside, with some friends and I'm alone. There's good music, the booze is flowing and I got to thinking about you. We never did much dancing, you know?"
"We did plenty of horizontal dancing. You weren't too bad, for an old fart!"
"Be still my heart! I know you've got to be busy, but if you weren't too tied down, I thought you might bop over here and I'd buy you a few drinks.
A little change of pace for you if you're not busy."
"Actually, I'm sitting at a table at Pelicans right now. My date went to get me another drink. He's hoping he's going to get me drunk enough to spread my legs. I was getting ready to bail on him, anyway -- Boring! So, actually, your suggestion sounds pretty good. I'll grab a cab and be over in 30."
"I know you can handle it yourself, but since this is sort of a date, call me when you get here and I'll come out and pay the tab. Oh, and, how are you dressed?"
A long silence, then...
"My god, you really must be horny tonight. I'm in something tight and sheer and see through and silver and gold."
"Does it show a lot of skin?"
"Y.....essss! Oh shit, now I AM pissed. I have some pride, Hugh! I'm not going to let you use me to get some bitch you're really interested in jealous."
"It's not...uh...yeah, I guess it is but, it's for a good cause! I'll explain when I see you. It's somebody who needs to be eating her heart out tonight.
I want you to look as hot and slutty as humanly possible!"
"It's not...okay, I'll be there. I want to see the bitch who ruined you for everybody else!"
My cell phone rang two Icehouses later. I was moving fluidly, but was still FAIRLY sober -- sober enough, anyway. When I walked out and Brittany wrapped herself around me, I couldn't help remembering some of those sessions on her bed. Maybe she had learned how to hold an interesting conversation after sex by now.
The cabbie gave me an envious glance and said, "You ever decide to bottle and sell whatever you got that attracts women like that, let me know and I'll buy a case."
I leaned over and whispered in his ear along with the $100 I deposited in his hand, "It's called money - large amounts of it."
He just shook his head and pulled away.
I turned back to her, admiring her large breasts, which were -- ALMOST -- on the verge of falling out of her low cut top. The top was low enough that the pale pink circles around her nipples were almost completely exposed.
If there's anything hotter than big boobs about to pop out of a woman's dress, I've never found it.
"Put your tongue back in, darling," she said, running her hand quickly over my dick, which began to get hard at light speed.
"Will this do?" she asked, with a grin.
"More than adequate, Brittany, more than adequate."
She grabbed my hand.
"Let's go torment the bitch."
We walked back in and straight onto the floor. There was a faster song playing now, but not out of my range and we moved around to it. Gail and G were out on the floor. Gail took one look at me and burst out into the widest smile. G just gave me the thumbs up.