Chapter 3: Dreams Can Become Reality

I woke up with a smile still on my face. It was early and even though I had at least two hours of work ahead of me, I decided to stay in bed for another few minutes and reflect on what had happened the previous night.

During the last years of focused work and lots of travel, I had become accustomed not to get attached to anything or anybody. My career was always going full steam ahead, and this position was another step to be tried and tested. I enjoyed the company of pretty women - who wouldn’t - but they weren’t a priority in my life. I hadn’t been on a serious date for years, and I didn’t like occasional flings. What Luigi had told Maureen was true - work, eat and sleep, and mostly in that order.

Yesterday was different and I couldn’t explain what had happened. There was this uppity young girl that had turned into a challenge. The problem was that the challenge had become much more difficult than I had imagined. I let her drive my Porsche, for heaven’s sake! I practically begged her to stay another day and go to the opera with me! Peter would have loved that ticket! And still - there was this warm feeling when I thought about her lovely face, and how had that girl suddenly turned into a woman? There were those eyes you could drown in, the conversation that never stopped and never was boring, and the teasing little smile. And that last kiss! I closed my eyes and relived it once more - and it was wonderful.

What was I going to do with her? Luigi said to keep her, but how? She lived in Brisbane and I in Sydney? Long-distance relationships never worked well. I stopped - what was I thinking? Relationships? I had just met the girl and had no idea what she thought about all this. I had better put these thoughts aside and concentrate on my work. I could concentrate on personal emotions later, but I still smiled when I got up.

I remembered the wine that had started everything and that I wanted to keep the bottle as a memory of a lovely night. I called Luigi and told him once more not to throw the bottle away, as I would pick it up early next week. Breakfast was next, so I got some muesli, yogurt, a cup of coffee and started to work, since I wanted to have no distractions when I met Maureen later. And to my surprise, the faint idea that had been lurking at the back of my mind last night decided to come forward to be processed. Move him to admin, get his colleague into his position and things should move faster. All these months the lack of drive and ambition around me had bothered me, and I was wondering whether it came from the bottom or from top management.

I wrote a few notes to myself on the laptop, and I was ready to meet her. I dressed in light beige slacks, a dark brown cashmere shirt, and a black woolen pullover. I knew that I was presentable.

It was early for our encounter but the idea of having a few more minutes with her sounded wonderful. I had made reservations at Doyle’s in Watson Bay and off I went. Taking down the top cover of the Porsche, I slowly drove to Liverpool Street and gave the keys to the valet. Tipping him well I was assured that it would be available immediately. I was early and wandered around in the vast lobby of the hotel. Standing in front of one of the shops selling beautiful flowers, somebody touched me on my shoulder. I turned around and stared.

“Wow! Who are you? Do I know you?”

Before me was a very pretty young woman, with long lustrous gold-red hair curling elegantly to her shoulders, a face lit up by a teasing smile, and dressed in a light green summer dress. This was not a graduate student anymore - this was an image of cheer and exuberance. The dress was simple but elegant - narrow straps, a row of buttons down the front (with two at the top already open) demonstrated that she had curves in the right places, a small cleavage showed a bit of her high pert breasts, and her long and slender legs were a pleasure to behold. A small golden belt accentuated her narrow waist. She had put on some makeup (not that it was necessary) and it highlighted her cheeks and eyes. I don’t think that she would be a good poker player - her eyes were too expressive, unable to hide her feelings. At this moment they were visibly filled with fun and anticipation.

“Well, kind sir, I was to meet a charming gentleman who offered to take me to a splendid mansion to nourish me with exquisite plates of fish and beef. Have you seen anybody who would fit this description?”

“I saw an old and creepy man looking around a few moments ago, but you should certainly not be in his company. May I offer not a mansion, but a folksy place where people are merry and enjoy themselves? My carriage is waiting outside, milady.”

She stepped closer and I could sense her perfume - like she herself, perfect. I wondered what I should do. Shake her hand, give her a peck on her cheek and probably mess up her makeup, or try a chaste kiss?

She decided for me to come still closer and offered her cheeks for a kiss. Much better than nothing! I presented my arm and placing her arm on mine, we left the hotel. Life was beautiful!

The valet brought the car, and I gave her the keys.

“Milady, the fun is all yours. If you’re afraid that the wind messes up your hair, I’ll put the top up again, but it’s warm and the day is beautiful. I reserved a table at Doyle’s in Watson Bay. Do you know the way?”

“Yes, I do. My mother goes there occasionally and when we are both in Sydney, I accompany her. The food is good and honest. Let’s drive with the top down - I want some fun!”

“We have time so if you want to take a long route around to Watson’s Bay, please feel free!”

I handed her into the car and off we went. She was driving carefully, but decisively, using the car as a Porsche should be used. She changed gears as necessary, never passing the speed limits, but we enjoyed the growling of the accelerating engine, and the rushing through corners was pure adrenaline. I watched her face after a few minutes - I was satisfied that she knew what she was doing and for me, it was much more fun watching her and the emotions that passed through her face. She was attentive, with her tongue following the direction she was turning, her smile was delightful, and just watching her made me happy.

She looked at me for a moment and smiled again. “Would you please stop it? Please watch the road and the directions and don’t keep looking at me - you make me nervous!”

I just smiled. “Maureen, my dear, at this moment there’s nothing that gives me more pleasure than looking at you and watching you drive the Porsche. Sorry.”

“We’ll have to discuss this soon - I’m getting confused about a lot of things.”

Slowly we arrived at Doyle’s and parked the car. It was no longer the traditional restaurant I had been told about, but more a bistro with tables in the garden, covered by chequered cloth. Selections were limited, but the food, however, was still believed to be extraordinary. I asked her whether she liked spicy or medium dishes and, looking at me, she said she wanted to be surprised. I ordered some steamed Chili Mussels and a hot seafood platter for two with lobster, prawns, scallops and whatever else was available on this day. A glass of the Seppelt Imperial Reserve Great Western Sparkling Wine for the Chili Mussels, and a half bottle of the Penfolds Bin 10A Chardonnay for the platter. Maureen looked at me and questioned my choices.

“Why did you select these wines? Yesterday you told me that the Grange was an ‘acceptable’ one and today - and without any hesitation - you select some of the best wine that Australia produces? Did you bend the truth yesterday or are you lucky today?”

I smiled. “I’m always lucky when I’m with you.”

She moaned and told me to stop this nonsense and answer her question.

“Well, I’ve heard about the sparkling wine and you said yesterday that Penfold’s is a premium brand, so I selected this wine. The price seems to indicate that it’s one of their better wines. Am I wrong?”

“No, James. but I’m really confused about you - and I must admit also about myself. Tell me something about yourself, please.”

Before I could start, the mussels arrived with the wine. It was as good as I had imagined and both of us concentrated on the food. Perhaps I could escape an answer? What could I say? That out of the blue I was fascinated by her? That I was as confused as she seemed to be? That I did not understand what had happened yesterday, but that I did not want to finish it? That I wanted to see her again, and as often as possible? Was this a foolish fantasy or something more serious? After one day?