Usually Walt hated visiting his suppliers, unless they were in driving distance. He disliked the time away from Rhonda, and the trips were never fun; he always had to bring office work with him, and he would end up on two planes in two days, sleep in a crappy hotel bed, and eat food he wasn't used to. Besides, most times if a visit was needed it was usually because there were issues with their business, like rising costs, failure to ship, or the like, and so they were never fun.
And this vendor was the one he disliked the most.
Sure, Bredelman's pricing was reasonable, and the quality was consistent, but the guy was a complete ass. Walt didn't even like talking to him on the phone; he cringed when he saw his name on an email, and negotiations over the simplest issues turned into gladiator tournaments. He was full of himself, thought he was better than he really was, saw everyone he dealt with as a potential victim, and just plain sucked at conducting business. He's been out to see him six months ago, had the worst vendor visit ever, and came home disgusted. No vendor got two visits in a year, but this account needed lots of hand holding, and his boss had insisted he go straighten out the current imagined mess.
He especially hated the timing. Rhonda had been acting a little odd recently, since the night she came home late from drinking with her friends. Maybe she was a little embarrassed that she'd drank too much, and left him to sleep alone. Frankly, he'd been a little pissed that she had been out so late; he'd been looking forward to some hot sex, and had ended up only getting a good night's sleep. She'd tried the "funny text message" but it hadn't been as funny as the vacation text. On the other hand, he had fucked that sweet Vanessa that trip, and returned Rhonda's joke message with his own, except his was was really true. But she didn't know that.
He preferred sleeping on long plane trips, but found he couldn't relax, and thought about Rhonda, wondering about her mood. She wasn't aloof, or distant, and she didn't ignore him, and they'd had plenty of sex, hot sex, since then. But there was something about her he couldn't put his finger on, and couldn't ignore. She was attentive, as always, she loved him, he loved her. But every once on a while she'd get a look on her face, like she was miles away, doing something else. He tried reading a book but couldn't concentrate. He'd rather be home with his wife, and settled uneasily into fitful naps.
Hours later he was pulling up to the vendor's offices in the car they'd sent for him. He appreciated the ride, but knew the asshole would throw it in his face, as though he'd sent a limo with strippers. It beat renting a car and driving himself, sure, but wasn't worth having to hear about it. They had a short meeting scheduled this afternoon, and then he would go to his hotel to do some work, but had to go to dinner with the asshole this evening. The next day would be a visit to the plant, and then back on the plane home. This trip sucked, he thought, entering the elevator. As he rode up, he braced himself for the onslaught of ridiculous posturing and over the top negotiating he'd have to endure.
The secretary, a pretty young brunette named Jennifer, was talking to a well-dressed woman about Walt's age when he arrived. She buzzed him in, and he waited patiently, enjoying the view of the older woman's ass in her skirt, and her slim, sexy legs as she leaned on the desk, her back to him. They were speaking in low voices, so he assumed they knew each other. Jennifer nodded to her, and the woman stood, said goodbye, and turned and left, giving Walt a polite smile. She was shapely and well put together, and seeing her face, probably a few years younger than him. Not overly beautiful, but elegant; a classy, confident woman. He saw it in her stride as she let herself out.
Jennifer came from behind her desk and took his overnight bag, and offered coffee, which he accepted. He was early, and they chatted amiably, interrupted only by the occasional phone call. It wasn't like they were strangers; they had conversed many times on the phone, and she was easy to talk to. And not too hard on the eyes, he thought. They talked of work, and business, and then he finally asked.
"Do you like working here?" He was shocked at his boldness, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. "I mean..."
"What, working for an asshole?" she asked, grinning. "Mr. Bradelman has his moments, for sure," she quipped wryly, "but the pay is good, and I'm friends with Mrs. B, so if it ever gets too weird I can always tell her."
"Mrs. B? he asked.
"His wife, Gloria. The woman who just left. We've been friends for years, she's really nice. And she looks out for me." She was interrupted buy the phone, and then told him to go ahead in. As he made his way to the office door, he wondered what a beautiful woman like that was doing married to such an asshole as Bradelman.
The meeting was as unpleasant as he'd figured, Bradelman making ridiculously irrelevant demands, and throwing the car ride in his face, and generally being the dick he always was. Walt stayed professional, denying his desire to choke him, and played the game of winning back concessions. Waste of my time, he thought, we could do the same business, more even, if the guy wasn't such a jackass. At the end of the hour he suffered Bradelman telling him how he had provided a car to take him to his hotel, and that he would meet him there for dinner. He excused himself, and left. He rolled his eyes at Jennifer as he retrieved his bag, and thanked her for the hospitality. She smiled and wished him a good afternoon.
The tension and dissatisfaction was still with him when he exited the building, looking for the car. He stood, surveying the street, when he heard a female voice at his side.
"I sent the car away," it said, and he turned to see Gloria, Mrs. B, standing there. "I'll drive you. It's Walt, right?" He looked at her, as attractive in the afternoon sun as she had been upstairs. He wondered again what someone so elegant and classy was doing being married to an ass like Bradelman. She was dressed nicely, in a tan skirt that ended a few inches above her knee and a dark blouse, her blonde hair settling nicely at her shoulders, eyes hidden behind stylish sunglasses. Her skin was light and unblemished, but slightly tanned, and a light friendly smile playing at her lips, which bore a hint of red lip gloss.
"Oh, that's all right, I can get a cab, thanks."
"Don't be ridiculous, it's no trouble." She escorted him to a Lexus parked at the curb, and he tossed his bag and briefcase into the back seat before climbing in the passenger seat. She had already started the car, and pulled away as he buckled his seatbelt. It was odd, being driven by the wife of a vendor he couldn't stand, and he felt a little uncomfortable as she eased into traffic.
"It's Gloria, right?"
