We first met at a company conference. I spotted her coming through the door while I was browsing the agenda, already bored, idly wondering if I could escape, and there she was. And my very first thought was that she reminded me of that moment when the morning sun breaks over the horizon, and suddenly the whole gray earth is bathed in golden splendor. Blinding and glorious.
I lost track of her in the crowd at lunch, but on day two, I found her in the cafeteria line and managed to join her. I introduced myself, and when she turned around and smiled and greeted me, well, everything lost perspective. Every good intention I'd ever had just went right out the window. From that day on, she's inhabited my days and nights, my dreams and fantasies.
Her name is Anna. She'd been a swimmer for Ohio State in her college days (not all that long ago), and she still has the muscular shoulders and small waist, the sculpted thighs and calves from long hours in the pool. She's a natural blonde with curly, bouncy, carefree hair, steel-blue eyes and fair skin. She loves the outdoors, but she burns easily. She's tall for a woman, about 5' 10", and has that healthy, vibrant southern California look about her, even though she swears she's never set foot in the state.
She's smart, well-read, loves to laugh, she's witty and quick. What can I say? We hit it off, big time, and we started making a habit of taking our lunches together whenever we could. And it wasn't very long at all until I thought, maybe, possibly, she likes me. And to tell you the truth, I felt a little bad about that. But only a little.
I'm married, you see. She's not.
Look, I know. I should have cooled it. I should have been the mature one, should have done the right thing and backed off. I'm nearly twice her age, after all.
What can I say? I was lonely and looking for someone. Is that such a crime? I wanted to feel my heart race like it used to. I wanted to find someone who could make me smile. I wanted to find someone on whom I could lavish all of the little romantic gestures that I love, and my wife has grown so weary of. Someone to talk to. Someone to confide in. I was looking for a friend, really. Just a friend. But Anna became much, much more.
It was several weeks after the conference, a Friday afternoon when most of the crowd had skipped out early. I'd been making a habit of working later because, hey, there wasn't much to go home to. On this particular weekend, my wife had left town for a visit to her sister's house, so I was in no hurry at all. It was about eight or so when I left and headed out to the parking lot. And there she was, lying on her back beneath her SUV, trying to coax the spare tire out so that she could change a flat. Other than the two of us, the parking lot was deserted.
I have to admit here that I couldn't see her face at all, but I recognized her gorgeous, muscled legs right off the bat. Her knees were bent and legs spread in a very suggestive pose, and her already-short black skirt was up around her hips, with only her black thong covering her at all, and it wasn't doing very much. Anna's got this child-like spirit about her, and to this day I just don't think she gave any thought at all to what she looked like, or how it was affecting me as I debated whether to watch her or help her or dive between her legs and eat her.
Realizing that she hadn't heard my approach, I called her name.
"Anna?"
She peeked out from under the car and spotted me, and instantly she broke into that thousand-watt smile of hers. She slid right out, folding her legs as she did so, and got up semi-gracefully as she clapped her hands together in an effort to get rid of some of the dirt.
"Martin! Oh, wow, am I glad to see you! I thought everyone had gone home already. I can't for the life of me figure out how to get this spare to drop. I'm just about ready to go find the inventor of this thing and pound him a few dozen times with a tire iron! Would you mind helping me?"
Mind? Just let her try to hold me back!
She had thrown an old sleeping bag on the ground under the back end, so I dove under to have a look. Remarkably, she followed me, moving in close to tell me what she'd already tried. In less than a minute we had the trouble spotted and fixed, and I lowered the tire to the ground.
"Oh, man. I can't believe I didn't figure that out for myself! I can be so stupid about these things! Arrrgggh!"
"You're definitely not stupid, Anna. It's like when you can't get the peanut butter jar open and you ask someone to help. The rule is, the lid's gonna come right off for the next person you hand it to, and you're going to end up looking like a fool. I think that's Murphy #7."
She laughed. "Well, Murphy #1 already bit me: 'If anything can go wrong, it will, and at the most inopportune moment.' I was going from here to meet some friends for drinks, but I'm afraid I'm too filthy to do that now."
She had a black smudge on her white blouse, and her face was dirty in a few spots where she'd touched herself with her hands.
"Well, you can still probably head home, change, and meet them later," I volunteered.
"They'll be gone by then. I was already running late when this happened. It's ok. I wasn't really looking forward to girls night tonight, anyway."
It didn't take long to finish with the tire. I tossed the flat and the tools in the back of her truck.
"There. You'll be fine, now. Everything else ok?"
"Everything's fine. Thanks a million, Martin. You've saved my life. Oh, wow, take a look at your hands. I'm sorry I got you so dirty." She glanced around the empty parking lot. "Where are you parked?"
"Mine's in the shop. I took the bus today. The stop is just a few blocks south."
"Well, the least I can do is give you a lift home. Hop in."
"Thanks, Anna, but I've got a better idea. How about if we go to your place and let you clean up, then you and I can go out for a late dinner?"
I knew I had crossed the line as soon as the words left my mouth, but I needed to know if my instincts about her were right. I was never going to have a better chance to find out. Was there something happening between us, something that she might want to pursue just as badly as I did?
She hesitated. She hesitated some more. I was just about to apologize...