Half past eleven. She's going to be late.
I check my phone. No messages. Well, that's a positive sign. She's still coming. Schrodinger's coffee date. Simultaneously arriving and not. Sort of.
I sip rather resignedly at my Skinny Latte. This was a conspicuous purchase designed to impress. I'm rather regretting it. It's going cold a bit too quickly. I check my trouser pockets for a packet of mints. Still there. Glancing around, I'm aware that to any weekday customer whose eye I may catch, I must look anxious. That's the correct conclusion. I am.
Thirty years of living discussed over the space of three months. Stories shared, attractions confessed, similarities discussed. Common ground agreed upon and boundaries established. It may seem cold, but so much can be lost in a moment of weakness. Time has taught us both some bitter lessons that we are not eager to repeat. The "age equals wisdom" truism holds for just that reason.
Then J's there. In the doorway. Coat under her arm, scanning the room with what I'm reading as a frown. In those precious few seconds I'm taking her in. The years fall away. I'm eighteen again. Hypnotized, horny and hormone-filled. Helpless and hopeless in equal measure. Our eyes lock and the frown evaporates into the softest smile that I could fall into.
She approaches me with open arms. We hug. J's soft, small breasts press against my chest and my heart explodes with happiness. Coffees are ordered, pleasantries are exchanged, latest news stories and catch-ups all dispatched in fifteen minutes. Then there is the pause. The moment is coming. I can sense it. J. looks into my eyes and leans in, conspiratorially, almost whispering, "Have you made the call?"
"Yes, I have. It's all sorted".
"Your room?"
"My room. The hotel is five minutes walk away. Trust me. I timed it".
"You've passed on the details?"
"Yep. Emily is meeting us at twelve fifteen".
"Christ, I'd best finish this coffee then". There is a half-smirk playing around her lips and she gulps down the remains of her drink. I pop a mint into my mouth. I offer J. one, she looks at my hand and then up at my face.
"Still the clean freak, eh? Want to make a good impression?"
"Hey, grooming is the thing. No coffee-breath from this pervert. We have standards, you know".
This elicits a barely stifled chuckle from her and a slight shake of the head.
"That's SO you"!
We leave the coffee shop and walk to the hotel in silence. Contemplative moments, considering the ramifications of what's about to happen. Furtive glances are exchanged intermittently, as if we are both checking each other's resolve. We arrive at the hotel, I hand over my room key and J goes upstairs to prepare.
Scanning the car park, I spot the number plate. My contact, Emily is sitting inside the car, checking her phone. Looking up, aware of my presence, she smiles, nods and gets out of the car. Opening up the back seat on the driver's side, she removes a large travel bag. I approach, sedately so as not to alarm her. We discuss the arrangements. I hand over the money, perhaps a touch too eagerly and immediately apologize.
"Don't apologize love, I prefer the nervous first-timers. Breaking your sort in is always good fun. I'll make it as exactly as you both want it to be. I do get a lot of repeat bookings you know!" With that she playfully slaps my ass and we enter the lobby and make for the lift. I self consciously look anywhere else but the Reception Desk.
I knock at the door and J. answers. She has applied a deeper shade of lipstick and her work blouse is now undone a further two buttons, exposing the slight uplift of her delicate breasts in her white bra. The hint of cleavage. She exchanges greetings with Emily who then slips off to the bathroom to get changed, taking the ominous Big Bag with her.
