Chapter 4: Valentine Red

A box lay on the counter when she padded into the kitchen barefoot. It was Friday, her day off, and she slept in. She barely felt his kiss on her cheek as he headed for work. He must've seen the kids off to school before he left. Their lunches were gone from the counter.

A smile crept across her face as she remembered last month. What did he have in mind this month?

She opened the box. Whatever it was, it was red and soft.

She opened the note first. A plastic card fell out in her hand. It was the key to a room at the Hilltop Hotel.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Steph. You are due at Madame Rousseau's at 4pm. See you at the Hilltop, Room 921, around 7."

Madame Rousseau's! It's only the most exclusive hairdresser in town. He had certainly gone all out this month.

She reached into the box and pulled the red garment out. Oh, my, she thought as she held the sheer red silk teddy in front of herself. She wasn't sure she could wear it, but it looked like it was the right size. I'll try it on after I take a shower, she thought.

She wiled away the day, straightening the house, doing the kids laundry. Her mother called at 2 to wish her a Happy Valentine's Day. Mom was happy that Darren had asked her to watch the kids for a weekend again this month.

"You two are getting out more. It's good to see," Mom said.

Stephanie wondered about that. Maybe Darren and I aren't the only ones who were unhappy with the relationship. It was better, she sighed. And damn him, his idea was working. I think he spends twice as much time on these fantasy dates as I do. Maybe I should do more?

She was still thinking about that as she sat in the bathtub, reveling in the soft bubbles and warm water.

The drive to Madame Rousseau's was tedious with all the commuters struggling to get home early Friday to be with their families. Finally she arrived. 3:50, she thought, not bad.

"Madame Davis?" the receptionist asked as Stephanie walked through the door.

"Yes."

"Very good, Janice is just finishing up. If you'd like to take a seat in room 4, she will be with you in just a moment." The young woman pointed down the hallway.

Stephanie nodded and walked to room 4 and opened the door. One wall was a huge mirror. A window allowed the sunshine in. Stephanie slipped her coat off and hung it up on the rack by the door. She stepped into the chair and leaned her head back closing her eyes.

"Mrs. Davis, I'm Janice," the woman said as she stepped into the room and closed the door softly. She went to the window and lowered the blinds.

"Hi," Stephanie said, sitting up a little.

Janice turned the chair so that it faced the mirror wall and wrapped a cloth apron around Stephanie's neck and across her chest. "Mmm hmmm, yes," Janice murmured as she looked from her notebook to Stephanie's reflection and back again. Then she opened the clasp in the book and handed the page to Stephanie.

Oh, my, Stephanie thought. I could never get my hair to do this.

"Mr. Davis suggested that hairdo when he made the appointment. I can see why. It will be exquisite," Janice gushed. "Would you would rather try something else?"

"No, I just hope it works."

"I will do my best," Janice said. She laid the chair back so that Stephanie's head was over the sink and proceeded to wash and shampoo Stephanie's hair. The shampoo smelled of roses and lilacs. Stephanie could feel the tingling up and down her spine as Janice's hands massaged her scalp.

It was nearly six when Stephanie returned to the front of the shop. She reached into her purse for the credit card, but the receptionist said that Mr. Davis had paid. "And left a very generous tip for Janice, as well," she added. "And I can see why."

"Thank you," Stephanie said she left the shop.

Stephanie felt a little out of place walking through the lobby of the Hilltop in her jeans and t-shirt, but no one complained. In fact, she could feel the eyes of several men on her as she walked to the elevator. She almost didn't recognize herself in the mirrored door of the elevator. Janice had curled her hair in ringlets and layered most of them atop her head. Four or five ringlets spilled down the back of her neck and four covered each ear. Janice had painted her nails a deep red, matching the red silk teddy. The lipstick matched as well. A pale brown eye shadow and some mascara highlighted her brown eyes.

The door opened, breaking her reverie. She stepped in and rode up to the ninth floor. The room was at the end of the hallway, 921. She opened the door and caught her breath. The sun streamed through the window onto a king size bed in the center of the room. She set her purse down on a chair and looked around. A vase with a dozen red roses sat atop the table in the corner with an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne and two long stemmed glasses.

A fireplace stood at the foot of the bed with a small gas fire blazing away. She looked in the mirror atop the mantle and smiled. He had thought of everything. She looked at her watch and nearly panicked when it said 6:45. She grabbed her purse and hurried into the bathroom to change.

Carefully she took off her blouse and brassiere, noticing that her nipples were hardening already as she hung the blouse up in the closet. She pushed her jeans and panties down over her butt and stepped out of them. She looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad for a thirty-six year old mother of two, she said to herself. She silently wished her belly were smaller and her breasts firmer, but time, gravity and children all conspired against her. She snapped out of her musing and pulled the teddy up over her nude body.

She shivered slightly as the soft silk tickled her calves, thighs, butt, tummy and breasts. She snapped it closed behind her neck and then sprayed a little perfume on her neck, in the valley between her breasts and on her wrists.

She stepped into a pair of red high heels. She felt a little wobbly, but they really added something, she thought as she looked in the mirror at the small strip of red material snuggling between the cheeks of her ass.

She hoped Darren would like the heels, they were an extravagance. She never wore heels, but they looked so good in the window of the store next to Madame Rousseau's.