. . fuck
***
You know that feeling you get when you just opened your mouth and said something you can’t take back? I did NOT want to put that phone to my ear again. I really took it to another perverted level there, maybe four.
I did anyway, she was my closest friend after all, and I just listened. After what seemed like an hour, although it was perhaps a minute, I heard some scrambling and some moving of her phone through the speaker in my ear.
“Hello? Grace?” she timidly spoke in my ear, “are you there?”
I didn’t know, was I?
“Uh huh.”
“Oh honey,” she sounded almost sorry for me, “. . . you missed your calling sweetheart.”
We both cracked our serious demeanors and suddenly exploded in laughter and relief. We couldn’t stop the feeling of mutual joy we were experiencing if we wanted to, it was the most glorious feeling of my life.
***
The next day was Saturday, and Stacy and I were both in the office for an early morning meeting, as usual. The next few hours would be filled with poring over long pages of testimony, fact finding phone calls and waiting for answers, our interns digging through stacks of monstrous books looking for them.
We didn’t talk about our late night adventure, but gave each other knowing looks all throughout the morning.
At one point around noon, Stacy and I were standing aside a long table in one of our many board rooms. We had just finished calling a few leads on her case and most people had left for the day. That’s when my phone rang.
I didn’t recognize the number from all the calls we had made that morning, so my heart beat a little more quickly as I pressed the glowing green circle to answer.
“Hello, this is Grace,” I spoke into in the device, looking at Stacy. She glanced up out of curiosity.
“Uh hi, Grace?” spoke the low male voice on the other end.
“Yes . . . this is Grace,” I repeated slowly, calling out the fact that we had already established this.
“Oh, hi Grace,” the voice spoke nervously, “this is Mike, from yesterday?”
I already knew who it was, and I was excited to hear from him so quickly. I wanted to play it cool however and I looked right at Stacy as I said, “Oh, why hello . . . Michael.” Stacy’s eyes widened, as did her mouth. “Did you finally remember from where it was you recognized me?”
I was playing this off as best I could.
“I’m afraid I still can’t place it Grace,” he spoke into my ear with his deliciously tenor voice, “but I was wondering if you would like to get a coffee with me sometime. Maybe if we talked a little it would come back to me.”
“Michael,” I started, and then asked, “May I call you Michael?”
“Definitely.”
Of course I could. I heard a lot of people in the background around him, and then suddenly there was cheering.
“Michael, let’s cut the charade and just admit that you don’t really know me from anywhere, am I right?”
“Um yeah, okay, that’s true,” he managed uncomfortably, “I saw you yesterday and I just had to meet you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since.”
“Why Michael, that is so flattering,” I winked at Stacy who was trying to get closer to hear the other side of the conversation. “I couldn’t help but notice the shiny ring on your finger though Michael,” I pressed on, “and where are you right now?”
The noise in the background was insistent, as if he were in the middle of a crowd of people . . .
“At a baseball game,” he replied. “My son is playing and this is the first chance I have had to be alone to call you.”
“So let me get this straight,” I said as I pictured his sexy face in front of me, “a married man is calling me from his son’s ball game to ask me out for coffee. Don’t you think that throws up a few red flags for me Michael? I mean really, are you looking for trouble?”
“I, uh, haven’t really been thinking this through . . .” he paused as the crowd cheered again and then subsided. “I just wanted to talk to you again, to maybe see you again Grace.”
“Well Michael,” I said as I looked Stacy right in the eye and continued, “what would we talk about, over . . . ‘coffee’ was it?”
“Well, maybe we could start by getting to know each other bett. . . ”
“Michael,” I cut him off, “I really don’t want to get to know you all that well, to be honest. You’re a married man with kids, and I couldn’t think of anything more complicated to get involved with . . . however . . .” I let this transition hang in the air like a piano.
“If you would like to get together for any other reasons, I think we may have a lot in common, if you know what I mean . . . Michael.”
The silence on the line and Stacy’s jaw on the table was exciting, and I pressed on.
“I mean, you might be a charming person to have a polite conversation with, but I would really rather have your help unbuttoning my expensive suit jacket and gently pulling it off of my shoulders, Michael.”
“What? . . . I, um, I mean . . . yes.” It was a glorious stammering of off-guardedness. I was starting to think my days of teasing men were actually just beginning.
Stacy was smiling wide and moved her chair closer to me and I leaned heavy against the edge of the large conference table to help her hear.
“Do you remember what I look like Michael?” I continued, taking the lead.
“Of course I do Grace, you’re beautiful,” he replied in a flattering tone.
“Tell me what you remember,” I said.
“I remember . . . that I loved how big and gorgeous your eyes looked,” he started, “how beautiful your hair was flowing across your shoulders, how soft your skin looked.”
Now I was melting a little and thought about his searing eyes and his delicious mouth, picturing them both all over me. I was getting hungry again.
“Wow Michael, I’m flattered,” I said, unconsciously tucking my hair back behind my ear. “Did you really notice that much about me?” I was playing it a little easy.
“I did Grace, and I would love to see you and admire you again,” he pushed.
“See me again? What would you do if you were to see me again?” I teased.
“I would, um, take your hands in mine and let you know how beautiful you are,” he mumbled into the phone. I could tell that he was sitting too close to other people, parents of other kids most likely, to be able to say much. That was good.
“That’s so romantic Michael,” I said, “do you still talk romantically like this with your wife?”
Stacy had to shove her hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud.
“I uh, . . . she’s more . . . um,” he tripped over himself, which was exactly what I was going for.
“Relax Michael, I don’t really care about that,” I continued, “I’m just messing with you. You know, I remember you quite vividly as well. I was actually hoping you would follow me into that store yesterday, and then having you so close like that had me wanting to see you again as well.”
“Really?”
“Really Michael. Who are you there with right now?” I asked, wanting to know his surroundings.
“Just some other parents, we are at the school ballpark, sitting on some bleachers,” he confessed, “I’m on the end.”
I tried to picture the scene. Sweaty little boys running around with dirty knees, mom and dad watching them fumble around in the grass as best they can. The cold aluminum straps of seating bolted to a rickety painted steel frame below.
“Really though, who’s there?” I asked suddenly.
“What?” he asked back, confused.
“I mean, who else might accidentally overhear you talking to another woman, with your child playing ball right in front of you,” I said a little more forcefully to drive my point home, but not too much.
“Well,” he started under his breath, “there is Mr. Gunrudy, his boy is my son’s best friend. And then there is Mrs. Perkins, she is the head of the PTA and her son Paul is the captain of the team.”
“It would probably be better if they not overhear any of your wayward conversation then, wouldn’t it Michael?”
“Probably,” he said slowly, clearly wondering where I was going with this.
“Then just listen,” I swallowed hard and started to talk. “I think you’re hot Michael, sexy in fact. You’re eyes melted me in that store and I wanted to press my wet lips against yours and run my hands all over your chest.”
I was shaking with nervousness and excitement and Stacy’s smile was painted on. Her eyes were sparkling with anticipation, cheering me on with their flashy gleam.
“Would you like that Michael, to feel my lips on you?”
“Oh yeah . . . I mean, yes,” he was trying to cover his unexpected exhilaration in public. This was going to be good.
“Well, I’ve been told that my lips are like soft wet candy, if you can imagine that. Did you even know that I’m not even fully dressed right now? I mean, I’m pretty much dressed, but my shirt is still over there on the bed. It’s kind of hot to think about, isn’t it?”
Stacy put her hands on her hips and looked at me like “really?” and I just shrugged.
“I wish you could see me standing here without a shirt on Michael,” I continued teasing, “My strapless bra can barely hold in the creamy tops of my naked breasts.” I was being bad and I knew it. Spank me.
“Oh man,” said Mike, his tone clearly portraying a desire to be somewhere other than another school function.
“I know Michael,” I dripped into the phone, “They look like sexy ripe pears on my chest, just begging for someone to come along and take a big juicy bite.”