It was something I said I would never resort to: *A Dating Service*...I chuckled.
It had been almost two years since the divorce and my architect business was keeping me way to busy. I didn't have the time nor the inclination to jump into the 'bar' scene. Besides I had my teenage son to be concerned about. I needed to be more discriminating with my choice of women now.
I reluctantly submitted my bio to the online service. It was much easier describing what I wanted in a date than it was describing myself.
Being a realist, I wasn't looking for Ms. Perfect. Just a sensuous creature with raven hair, green eyes and some intelligence.
It was finally Friday and I came home dragging. It had been a long troublesome week.
I flipped on my computer before heading to the shower for a quick one.
As the pulsating water gently beat against my aching body, I found myself thinking about the interior decorator that was my last appointment today.
She was of medium height with long flowing jet black hair, dressed in a conservative blue gray business suit, small firm breasts filled out her tailored white blouse, the top three buttons undone exposing her sweet round cleavage. The skirt hit her about six inches above the knees with a side slit exposing shapely athletic thighs. A pair of three inch black heels with thin straps gracing her ankles finished off her outfit.
She had patiently waited in the reception room for close to an hour.
When I finally walked out to greet her she was engrossed in a Cosmopolitan magazine wearing a delicate gold rimmed pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of her cute little nose, legs crossed, her small foot gently bobbing up and down causing her shapely calf to flex.
Unnoticed, I walked right up to her," Ms. Hayley." I said, startling her.
"UUhhh...Yes...Mr. French?" She responded, fumbling to remove her glasses, uncrossing her legs, springing to her feet, only to have her legs collapse out from under her.
I grabbed her by the arms, catching her before she hit the hard Spanish tiles, gently seating her back down in the chair.
"I'm so sorry," She said, her face flushing a soft pink as she began apologizing. " I'm afraid I've been sitting to long with my legs crossed."
"No problem Ms. Hayley. It is I, who should be offering thee apology for having kept you waiting so long. I'm sorry, I'm Mike. Nice to meet you." I said offering her my hand.
Now giggling she responded, "Well, let's just call it even then. Thank you for catching me. And please. Call me Michelle..." She added bending sideways in her chair coming up with an attaché case, extending her other hand for me to shake as she rose to her feet.
I took her soft yet strong hand giving it a sound shake before motioning her into my office.
In her portfolio, she had photographs of interiors she had designed for other clients.
Discussing my company's needs, I found her to be very knowledgeable. I was quite impressed. Here was a woman with both talent and looks.
We had been advertising for a qualified decorator for this project for some weeks now but to no avail. I believed our search was over, although I told her I would call her on Monday with a decision, as I didn't want to sound to anxious. We had not negotiated a fee yet.
"YOU HAVE MAIL".... Echoed through the air as I stepped from the shower, grabbing a towel from the bar. I dried off while walking out to the computer, wrapping the towel about my waist before I sat down, positioning my mouse over the 'go to mail' and clicking.
"Hmmmm," I said aloud with surprise. I had a response from the dating service, a "match". I clicked 'email' and the window opened...
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Hi Mike...
I read your bio. You sound like a very interesting man. Looks as though we share similar interests. I too have my own business and love to sail. And do not think the bar scene is for me either. I am athletic, physically fit, 5'6" with black hair and green eyes. And would love to meet you. Email me back if you're available this weekend. I may have a big job coming my way and won't be available myself for a while.
Thanks,
Micki
micki<>ByDesign4u@omg.com
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Well, well...I thought. She didn't have much to say but what she did, I liked.
I got a response right off to her. I had plans to go sailing on Sunday, so I invited her to join us, emailing the directions and location of my sailboat at the Marina.
God, my first blind date since High School. I felt like a schoolboy.
The other phone line rang. It was my son saying he hoped I would understand, but he had an out of town field trip with his church this weekend which he had forgotten to inform me of.
I reassured him it was not a problem.
He asked if he could have a rain check on the sailboat outing before he hung up.
Looked as though it was going to be just Micki and me. Hmmm.
"YOU HAVE MAIL" sounded out again.
Wow, that was quick, an answer back from Micki already?
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Hi Mike.
Thanks for the invitation. See you on Sunday!
Hugs,
Micki
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I chuckled as I read her brief message, gracious and to the point, I liked that...she was affectionate yet not overly so. I was looking forward to Sunday already.
I answered my other emails, chatted online a bit and checked the three-day weather report before shutting down the ole computer and heading off to bed.
I remembered when I thought computers were a pain...my opinion had changed over the last few months.
Settling into my comfy king-sized bed, I breathed a sigh of relief. A big weight had been lifted off my shoulders at the prospect of Ms. Hayley meeting our decorating needs. I drifted off as the grandfather clock in the entry sounded for the eleventh time.
The noisy chirping of a recently hatched family of sparrows nesting high in the willow tree outside my bedroom window awakened me. Leaves were rustling as gusts of wind swept through the branches causing the suns morning rays to flicker, bouncing shadows off the walls as I opened my eyes to greet the day.
Ahhh... This is going to be a great weekend for sailing, I thought as I rolled out of bed feeling the breeze wash over me as I swung open the French doors leading out onto the balcony.
I stood there, breathing in deeply the varied aromas floating through the neighborhood; the sweet fragrant blossoms on the Magnolia trees which majestically lined the street, the musty smell of the neighbors newly mowed lawn, the pungent scent of marigolds blooming in the planter boxes attached below the windows of my house and the faint aroma of frying bacon...
As I walked back inside I heard the neighbor calling her children in to breakfast.
I was not much of a breakfast person myself. By the time I finished my morning workout, showered and readied myself for the work, there was no time to prepare a meal. A protein bar on the way to the office usually got me through until lunchtime. And it seemed as though I was always taking clients to lunch.
