Low lamp-posts created distinct, brightly lit circles in the parking lot of my wife's office building. But there was more shadow than light across the paved space.
They really should do a better job of illuminating this lot
, I thought to myself. After seventeen years together, fourteen of them as husband and wife, I knew Sandy would be a surprisingly tough target for anyone looking to try something, but cataloguing risks and planning mitigating measures was too ingrained a habit for me. Besides, what sort of a husband doesn't have any concern about his wife's safety when he's not around, I rationalized?
The lot was empty, with the exception of one other vehicle, parked directly under a lamp. I saw a figure leaning on the driver's side door, engrossed in his phone. He glanced up, seeing my headlights sweep across the dark pavement as I turned into a spot two lights removed from his own, and turned off my SUV. Average height, solid build. Black slacks and brogues, burgundy open-necked dress shirt, no visible jewelry other than a large-faced watch and a wedding band. Shaved head, coffee coloured skin. Leaning on a black Audi. Not a likely threat. In fact, more likely another husband here to pick up his wife, I concluded. Sandy's firm was good about making sure employees always had a way home that didn't involve getting behind the wheel after cocktail parties and conferences.
But tonight I happened to be close by her office after dinner with a client of mine, and so she was getting dropped by the taxi back at work, rather than stay another twenty minutes in the cab to reach our neighbourhood. Besides, it meant we could pick the kids up at her parents' house together. I left the keys in the ignition, rolled the windows down, and turned the volume up a little on the hockey game as I waited. Now that I was parked, the other fellow returned his attention to the phone in his hand.
"Matthews gathering speed through the neutral zone...cuts to the inside - oh, what a move! - goes to his left - he scores!"
"YES" I cheered, and pounded a fist to the wheel of my car. The horn blared briefly, and the gent with the Audi looked up sharply. "Sorry, Leafs game," I raised my voice to carry the distance between us and apologized with a grin. He pocketed his phone and strode my way.
"I always find it weird cheering for hockey when it's almost summer and the weather's like this," he offered as he approached my open window. "But I'm glad they're still in it," he added quickly. "What's the score?"
"Two nothing in the first. Matthews has both, apparently. I just turned it on, so I missed the first fifteen minutes."
"Yeah, he's a hell of a player."
I turned up the radio a bit more, and we listened to the play-by-play in companionable silence until the buzzer sounded the end of the first period. "Not a bad start for the Buds - better than last game," I opined as I opened my door and stepped out to stretch my legs.
"Absolutely. I'm Donovan, by the way." He extended a hand with the introduction.
"Grant," I replied as we shook. He had a firm grip, but wasn't one of those guys who tries to crush your hand. "I'm just waiting for my wife to get dropped off."
"Yeah, I figured," Donovan replied with a chuckle. "Insurance conference?" I nodded. "My wife must work with yours," he finished.
The sound of another car pulling into the parking lot interrupted our conversation, and we turned to see a taxi pulling up to the curb in front of the office. A couple of giggling ladies stepped out of the back door a few seconds later, and the cab pulled away. Almost immediately, they both doubled up with laughter at some comment we couldn't hear, hands on knees as they tried to catch their breath. Sandy reached out a hand to steady herself on her companion's shoulder as she stumbled a little in her peekaboo heels.
So, it had been that sort of a night.
"Yours?" I asked Donovan with a tip of my head towards the women.
"Yeah," he said with a smile and small shake of his head. "Looks like they had a good time," he added as we started walking towards them.
"Hey babe," I called to Sandy as we got closer. Both wives stood up straight, finally taking notice of us approaching. I felt a brief flash of annoyance that she hadn't scoped us before getting out of the cab.
The smile on Sandy's pixie face broadened as she looked at me, and her blue eyes shone. Her blonde hair was pulled back and high with a couple of those engraved, polished chopsticks whose structural properties were incomprehensible to me. She was wearing a form-fitting teal dress cut just above the knee. It was a favourite of mine. The design featured a military-style high collar which split into a dipping neckline that was sexy as hell without being inappropriate. It bunched in the right places and stretched in the right places, and it showed off a lithe fitness underneath that made her the envy of women a decade younger. I melted a little.
God, she's beautiful.
I'd been of that same opinion since the night we first met, but it still caught me off guard on a regular basis, the sudden shock of emotion cutting through our everyday familiarity. Sandy stepped towards me and reached out for a hug. I could feel every smooth muscle and curve in her back under the thin material of her dress. It clung to her in the unseasonable heat of the evening, and started to create some unexpected heat for me too. Something about her when she was tipsy just radiated sexiness to me. She tilted her head back for a brief kiss, and her breath had a hint of whiskey on it, which got my spidey-sense tingling. Insurance mixers were the exclusive domain of chardonnays and merlots, with a smattering of Stella Artois for the guys wanting to butch up their image a bit.
What would get Sandy to opt for whiskey at an industry evening?
I put the question to one side, and listened to her as she released me and stepped back to introduce her colleague.
"Hon, this is Dani. She works on Christine's team with Tim and Philip - you remember them from the Christmas party?" I remembered Tim and Phillip: two guys just out of university who were still acting like kids with drinking permits rather than adults. They'd gotten sloppy drunk and more than a little obnoxious at the holiday social function, and I was quite frankly surprised Christine still had them on her team. I nodded and smiled at Dani, reaching out to shake her hand. She had to pull her arm out from around Donovan's waist to reciprocate.
"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Grant," I said. Dani's hand was small, but strong in my brief grip. She was petite and on the pale side like Sandy, but with noticeably larger breasts straining slightly against the sheer fabric of her white blouse, and slightly fuller hips rounding out her high-waisted, charcoal grey pencil skirt. Her large blue eyes crinkled cutely at the corners behind ruby-red eyeglasses, framed by long dark hair with bangs, as she smiled at me, cheeks dimpling attractively. I noted a tiny red stone in an understated nose stud, and realized that glasses, stud, earrings and heels were all coordinated in the same shade of red against the black and white sobriety of her work attire.
Interesting.
Dani started to introduce Donovan, but he interrupted her. "Grant and I are already old buddies. We listened to the game together, had a few beers here in the parking lot, and set up a barbeque together for next weekend," he deadpanned. I felt Sandy's fingers hook into my back belt-loop as she moved her hand to my waist.
Dani slapped playfully at his arm and giggled. "We weren't
that
late, you goof," she chuckled.
"You two look like you had a good time," Donovan offered. The two ladies instantly locked eyes at his comment, and a moment later cracked up laughing again. Donovan and I shared a bemused grin.
"It was a bit of a mess," Sandy confessed. "One of the underwriters showed up already blitzed, and tried to hit on Dani in line at the buffet. Christine and I were a couple of places back, and Christine was going to step in when 'the twins' barrelled in to the rescue." Dani quietly translated for Donovan that Sandy meant Tim and Phillip. "They'd also had a few - as usual - and when they got in this guy's face, he stumbled back into the table and brought the whole fucking buffet down." Donovan's eyes went wide, darting between his giggling wife and mine. "Poor Christine looked like she didn't know whether to congratulate them or kill them. This asshole is slipping all over a full tray of chicken in cream sauce on the floor as he tries to get up, the boys are standing over him yelling, security comes running over..."
"It was a complete shit-show," Dani finished. The casual profanity the two ladies were sharing told me they'd connected quickly, as Sandy was generally more conservative in her language with coworkers.
"Anyhow, I grabbed Dani and pulled her away, and then we figured it was time to get out of there, so we found a bar across the street from the conference centre and settled into a booth there. Christine joined us once the mess got sorted out, but she's stressed about how to handle this at work on Monday. She had a couple of drinks with us and then went home. The bartender heard what happened, and he was great - it wasn't crazy busy, but he didn't let anyone come near us all night. I found out that Dani and I both like Woodford Reserve, so it turned out to be a lot of fun." Sandy smiled and reached out to briefly squeeze the younger lady's arm.
"You okay?" Donovan asked his wife.
"I'm fine," she replied. "I was a bit surprised when the guy first started talking that way to me, but you know I can handle myself," Dani told Donovan. "Then Tim and Philip come charging in..." Dani choked out the words as she and Sandy fell into another fit of laughter, watching the scene again in their own minds.
"Started talking to you how?" Donovan almost growled, his eyebrows coming together in concern.
