The kiss made my entire body tingle and that was in addition to the absolute surprise of it. I had walked into the lounge intending to have one, at the most two, drinks to take the edge off of the hard day I'd had, get a football card off of the bartender, fill it out, give him five bucks and then leave. I hadn't even seen her sitting at the bar between the two men until she jumped down off the stool and hurried toward me. The surprise was total when she threw her arms around me and kissed me. Then, without a word being said to me she pulled me over to where she had been sitting.
"Here's my husband now. Thanks for the drinks. Come on Jim, let's find a table."
I stumbled along behind her, absolutely lost and confused. Rachel was married, but she wasn't married to me. In fact, Rachel didn't even like me.
Rachel led me to a table and before we could sit down and I could get an explanation the two men came up to the table and without being invited they sat down. One of the men reached a hand across the table to me, "Jim, right? I'm Dan Sommers, maybe Rachel has mentioned me?"
I caught a slightly imperceptible nod from Rachel and said, "No, not that I can remember."
"I can't say that I'm surprised." He pointed at the other man, "This is Bill Jenks, he's my vice president of sales and marketing."
I shook hands with the man while I tried to figure out what was going on. It was obvious that Rachel wanted this Dan guy to believe that I was her husband and she was clearly expecting me to go along with it, but as I shook Bill's hand I was asking myself why I should.
Rachel and I worked for the same company. She was in sales and I was in manufacturing. She was on commission and I was salary. I have found that most people in sales and on commission have a tendency to let their mouths overload their asses and then they look to other people to bail them out. Rachel was no exception.
A typical conversation would go something like this:
"I just sold ABC ten thousand Mark 16B widgets and they have to have them by the first of the month."
"Sorry Rachel, the line is set up for the Mark 10As right now. It will be the tenth before I can run the 16Bs."
"But the customer will cancel if he doesn't get them by the first."
"Sorry, nothing I can do. You get a copy of the production schedule every week so you should know where we are."
She would lose the commission and sometimes even lose the customer and she would run to her boss who would go storming in to see mine. I would be called in to the office and I'd have to defend my position. My boss would always say that I was right, but it got old after a while and I started to do little things to stick it to Rachel. Her orders would go to the bottom of the pile and be the last ones filled and other little stuff like that. In short, our relationship was not of the best and yet here she was looking to me to do something for her, and not just any old something either — she wanted me to pretend to be her husband. I was tempted to do what I've heard that Muslims can do; stand up, point at her and say, "I divorce thee, I divorce thee, I divorce thee" and then walk away from her, but at the last second curiosity got the better of me and I decided to play along at least until I could find out what was up.
From the way the conversation went it was obvious that Dan and Rachel had known each other in college and it was equally obvious that Dan was an obnoxious asshole. He dropped offhand comment after comment designed to let me, the husband, know that he had been fucking Rachel during their time in college. I just sat there and tried to figure out how Rachel's real husband would respond, but I'd never met the man so I had no frame of reference. I decided that I should handle it as if Rachel was really my wife and I was all set to jump the asshole when Rachel caught my eye and shook her head "no." I settled back into my chair and sipped my drink and listened.
Seven o'clock came and the band arrived and began to set up. When they played the first number I figured that I would get Rachel out on the dance floor and ask her what the fuck was going on, but Dan beat me to it. As soon as the first musical note sounded Dan asked Rachel to dance and she looked over at me like a good little wife asking if it was okay and I told her to go ahead.
If Rachel had really been my wife and knowing that Dan was an asshole I would have kept a close eye on the two of them, but she wasn't so I didn't. Instead I sat and talked to Bill and that got me part of the story. He and Dan were in town to look at our facilities, at our quality control in particular. They were interested in our Mark 7 AQBs and Rachel was working hard on closing the deal. Suddenly I understood a few things, like why she had pulled me away from the bar and to the table. She wanted to tell me what was going on, but the two men followed too quickly for her to do it. I still didn't understand the husband part, but sooner or later I would get Rachel on the dance floor and find out.
But I didn't get the chance. I'd been talking to Bill and I hadn't noticed that Dan and Rachel had stayed out on the dance floor for the entire set. They came back to the table when the band took a break and as soon as they sat down Dan ordered another round of drinks. I was still talking to Bill when I glanced Dan's way and saw him sitting there contemplating me. I went back to my conversation with Bill and a minute or so later I saw that Dan was still sitting there staring at me. I moved in my chair and looked back at him.
"Maybe. You aren't much of a man are you?"
"Would you care to share the thought process that led you to that conclusion?"
"Yeah, I think I would. I sat here and pretty much let you know how much I enjoyed your wife while we were in college and you just sat there and ignored me. Then I took her out on the dance floor, played with her tits and her ass and I even ran my hand down inside her skirt and fingered her pussy. I did everything out there except fuck her and you are just sitting there. The obvious conclusion is that you aren't much of a man."
I looked at him for a couple of moments and then I turned to Rachel, who was sitting there watching her deal die.
"How old are you my love?"
"Would you say that at thirty-one you can be considered an adult?"
"An adult capable of handling herself?"
.... There is more of this story ...