Business as Usual Continues


I woke up that morning exhausted. Last night had been a long night: a difficult client, contracts, negotiations, and in the end the failure to close. I was determined to start fresh, and work up some sort of positive attitude in spite of my desire to just go back to bed and sleep it off.So, after everyone was clean, fed, and out of the house I stepped into the closet to find my workout clothes. I grabbed some black stretch pants; a loose, turquoise tank top; and my nice, supportive sports bra. Gotta make sure the big girls are strapped in tight for a trip to the gym! Shoes on, hair up, and ready to go.It was a quick drive, and I was glad to see there were not a lot of other people sweating out their bad energy this morning. I didn’t think I’d have the patience today for loud, soccer Moms commiserating.I jumped on a treadmill by the window and thumbed through the playlists on my phone, looking for my most upbeat music. I hit play, threw in my ear buds and off I went. It’s kind of nice to be able to turn off the world once in a while, even if it is just for an hour or so. But no such luck today, apparently. After about fifteen minutes, I felt a little nudge at my elbow and turned to see Paul. He’s a typical suburban Dad who I had met through a sports team that my son played on.“It’s nice to see you. How’ve you been?” Paul said.Sweaty and annoyed, but thanks for asking.“I’m good. Just trying to cram in a little exercise today,” I managed in my least bitchy tone.Paul replied, “Yeah, I’ve been out of town for work a lot over the past few months and now I’m trying to catch up on mine.”“Doesn’t your company put you up in hotels with a gym? I would have guessed that they take good care of you,” I said. He worked for a successful national company, and I doubted he was staying at some crappy motel.“I can’t complain. But, I am really busy when I’m on the road. And usually, there’s late client dinners involved, or drinks. Doesn’t leave a lot of time for work outs,” he said.Then, he looked at a loss for words, likely sensing my desire to just keep walking. Alone. He remarked, “It’s a gorgeous day. Finish your work out and go enjoy it!”I said that I would, and presumably he went back to wherever he had come from. I completed my walk in relative peace, and moved on to the torture machine that works your butt. Not fun, but certainly effective. Someone with a good sense of humor must have oriented it when they set it up, because while face down on the machine, you are looking out a window while your ass is facing into the room for all to see.I güvenilir bahis diligently climbed on and began the repetitions I intended to complete. Glancing backward to ensure that I had good form, I noted that Paul was lifting weights behind me. He was apparently watching my form as well. When I caught his eye, he quickly glanced down and attempted to appear nonchalant. I looked back out the window and smirked to myself. If nothing else, it was good motivation.Paul was actually a nice guy, and very easy on the eyes, as well. He spent a decent amount of time at the gym, and it showed. I had actually caught him looking at me a number of times before. But I doubt he would ever act on it, even if he did harbor some prurient interest. Admittedly, I entertained a naughty little daydream about him occasionally, too. And it was flattering to be looked at, so what was the harm?Here’s the thing: Paul has a great wife and wonderful kids. He married his high school sweetheart, they go on lots of romantic trips, and they are always smiling and holding hands in public. The fairy tale, right?But something in his little glances at my ass make me think that not all is at it seems. His wife is never at the gym. She is very pretty, but plain and simple. Baby weight that never left, and a hairstyle from ten years ago. While this suburban Dad may not pursue his desires with someone like me at the local gym, what about those out of town business trips? Is he keeping in shape to keep his options open? Would he indulge in a little misconduct if no one would know? I wondered.After all, I did. It had been a little over a week since my escapade with Jack. I felt conflicted, yet invigorated. Which is why I chose to push it to the back of my mind, and deal with it later. I don’t have the time or the energy for an existential crisis right now, or guilt either!I have never been a traditionalist. I have always separated sex and love, love and money, money and power. I don’t like to be controlled, and I have always taken care of myself. Getting married didn’t change those things. I don’t know if my husband thought it would, or if he just never really understood me or what I wanted at all. All I can think is, I have become a cliché.My life has gotten bigger in some ways over the last few years, and smaller in others. My real estate business is booming. I’ve been busy, and have worked with a number of very lucrative clients. But I spend most of my nights alone while my husband is working. And on his days off, rather than going out, he prefers home and güvenilir bahis siteleri TV. Not exactly the days of wine and roses! I am truly reaching the end of my patience.I have spoken up about it a number of times, but apparently he is tone deaf on the subject. Maybe he’s not interested anymore, which makes other options so much more appealing. Why be invisible in your marriage when you can be appreciated outside it?Perhaps I needed a dirty little secret in my life in order to continue to be the dutiful wife I am expected to be. I think that’s why I ended up unexpectedly naked on Jack’s couch. But here is the problem that I am struggling with: should I feel guilty for that delicious day, or should I be grateful because it helped me cope with the empty shell my home life has become?Because I could not answer that conundrum yet, I avoided Jack’s calls. He left one or two voice messages, and I’d emailed very professional replies that I would get back to him as time allowed because I was currently very busy with other clients.I finished my work out, and a quick look at the clock told me it was time to go home and grab a shower. I had last night’s difficult clients to meet with again later today, and I still had to stop by the Town Hall to vote in the local elections. Jack works at the Town Hall, but as his office is upstairs somewhere away from the public, I assume I can dash in and out without consequence. He’s probably out and about on some important town business anyway.Not the first time I would be wrong today! I had just finished casting my ballot. When I turned to walk away, a familiar face was staring into mine from a respectful distance.“Doing your civic duty, I see,” Jack commented.“Absolutely,” I replied wryly.“Well I am glad you could fit it into your busy schedule. Good timing, too. You didn’t even have to wait in line… so I assume you probably have a few free minutes to speak?” he asked cautiously.“Actually, I don’t have a lot of time. I have an appointment in about forty-five minutes. But, I can always spare a few moments for a town official,” I said politely.He asked, “Shall we go up to my office?”“Lead the way.”Instead, he gallantly allowed me to proceed up the stairway first. As we walked up the stairs, I swear I could feel his eyes on my ass. God! I wish I had worn a better outfit! The gray, form-fitting trousers were not exactly sexy, nor was the navy cardigan or scarf that I wore with it. Admittedly, the gray leopard heels gave it a little attitude. But, overall it was still appropriate for iddaa siteleri the meeting I had later with my rather conservative clients.Nervousness made my mind wander for a minute. Men have it easy, don’t they? A suit or dress pants, dress shirt, and tie. The most complicated decision they have is sock color. Jack went with business casual today: plaid oxford, blue cashmere sweater, and gray pants. And gray socks. Good choice.Breathe.He ushered me down a hallway and into his office. He then stepped in behind me and closed the door. It was nicely appointed, and just as I had expected. Neutral colors, large formal desk, leather desk chair, and two overstuffed arm chairs for visitors. A large credenza and some file cabinets flanked one wall. Another featured a lovely view from a large window overlooking the park. I assumed that he would ask me to sit. But he didn’t. Instead he just stood his ground leaning his shoulder against the door.After a few awkward moments of standing in the middle of the office, I walked over to the door and leaned against it too.“Did you ask me up here to help you hold the door closed?” I asked.“I asked you up here for a couple of things, actually.” he said.“And those would be…?”“Well, the first is to ascertain why my Realtor doesn’t return my calls,” he stated in a flat but questioning voice.I sighed. “I had some thinking to do. You don’t have anyone to answer to. Or to judge you. I do. And while I had a very, very nice time, I didn’t know if I could, or would, be willing to do that again. Hence, the silence.”“I get it, trust me,” he said in a soft tone. “I’d be a little mystified if you didn’t care about those things. That or I’d shake your husband’s hand for being so open minded,” he said with a chuckle.“I’m the open minded one, not him,” I told him. Then I curtly added, “And, what is the other thing you asked me up here for?”Perhaps I was a little short with him. My tone was certainly one of ‘get to the point already’. The stress of the previous night, the stress of needing to be on my way quickly, his unexpected ambush; they all contributed. Not my usual charming self.He answered with silence and raised eyebrows. I looked at the floor and took a deep breath. Let it out, and let him in. His eyes softened, and his face relaxed.“I was wondering if you would like to share a cup of coffee. But maybe you should skip the caffeine today,” he said with a sly smile.“Why am I sure that coffee is not why you asked me up here?”“An innocent cup of coffee.” He shrugged. And followed that with, “What did you think I was going to say?”As we spoke he moved closer, until his face was just inches from mine. I could feel the heat rolling off his body, and feel the protrusion from his dress pants. Most people are not that excited about coffee.Yes, innocent coffee.

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