Chapter 5: The Second Day

[Author’s Note: Andrew’s Point of View]

Following Kara’s wise counsel, I left for work early. With me was Kara’s note on stationery, with “Sallie Macron” neatly lettered on the envelope. She made me promise not to read the letter until I had handed it to Sallie.

From our kitchen I brought an upscale stone-finished coffee mug, part of a set I received as a gift. Peet’s Coffee was still open, around the corner from the office, so I made my purchase and carried everything up to the 22nd floor. None of the office’s swill for us today.

On her desk I arrayed the mug, the hot coffee in its covered cardboard cup, and the note. I waited nervously for her to arrive, now that it was the proper time.

The elevators were about twenty paces from our cubicles, attended by a trash barrel, an asymmetrical Ficus, and a large wall clock.

8:07. According to my phone, the wall clock was accurate.

8:12. There were eleven ballpoint stick pens in my desk drawer. Six blue, three black, and two red. One extra cap.

8:14. My own coffee was all gone.

8:20. Four stainless steel door panels. Stubbornly inert. Mocking my pain.

8:23. Ficus Benjamina is Latin for the Weeping Fig. I could relate.

8:32. I was a wreck. I cataloged all my mistakes from yesterday.

8:35. The right-hand elevator doors split open, and Sallie finally walked in. She was clearly frazzled and cross, but she put on a smile as she caught me watching for her.

I paid attention to her dress as she walked towards our row of cubicles. She stopped to hang her coat, shrugging off the sleeves with her back towards me. The accompanying ass wiggle was endearing.

Her dress was conservatively cut with a squared neck and back openings between wide shoulder straps. Not a lot of bare skin showing below her neck, but that was fine. The fabric must have some stretch to it because it clung to her curves enticingly. I assumed because her breasts were big and heavy, she had to wear a supportive bra underneath, with wide comfortable straps. A dress with little shoulder strings would be impractical, and I could see very faintly the outline of her bra. No problem, I’ll learn how to get the thing off with practice, I hope. Lots of practice!

My eyes followed the clingy fabric down through her waist, swooping over the upper swell of her ass and hips, gathering in to cup the sharp crease between ass cheeks and upper thighs, and ending with the hem two or three inches above the backs of her knees.

Exquisite. In just that quick moment before she turned and closed the remaining distance between us, I had a memory to savor.

“The damn Muni... ‘Switching problem,’ they said. One hundred and ten year old railroad, and they still can’t figure out switches?

She was panting a little and I could just detect her perspiration, it was not unpleasant. There was something arousing about her scent. And with her breasts heaving as she caught her breath, I couldn’t help noticing all over again how sexy she was.

I wanted to compliment her dress, but I had a horrible thought: the last time I said she was beautiful, it was a disaster. But I had the impression she was dressed for my benefit, particularly since her outfit technically violated the bank’s dress code. Here goes nothing!

“Sallie, that dress is very flattering. You look wonderful.”

She gave me a very uncertain look, but then settled into the most gorgeous wide smile.

Whew!

“You think so?” she asked meekly, uncertain.

“I absolutely do,” I assured her. “Please, rest your feet after standing so long on that dysfunctional train.”

“What’s this? You brought me Peet’s coffee?”

“It’s probably cooled, let me go heat it for you.”

When I returned, Kara’s note was in Sallie’s hands. She looked stunned, and misty? Definitely emotional.

I placed the cardboard cup on her desk.

Sallie asked, “You told your daughter about me? About yesterday?”

“She’s very very smart. Kara recognized I was upset and interrogated me. Like an FBI agent, or a psychiatrist. I had no choice but to confess. Then she insisted on writing a note to you. I hope it wasn’t, uh, inappropriate.”

“You didn’t read it?” she asked.

“She made me promise not to. Was it —””

“No, it was OK. Honestly, I did not come here today expecting to hear from your daughter.”

“Erm, what did she say?” I asked nervously. Kara sometimes got into trouble for being too straightforward.

“That girl loves you so much. It just leaps off the page, how she feels. She put enough in this note to convince me, not only you’re a great dad, you’re a great person. Did you really pay rent for her friend’s needy family?”

“Yeah,” I replied, relieved. “Though she should have skipped over that. It wasn’t a big deal.”