River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations (45 page)

The next day at my office, I was completely distracted. I wore a classic red shift dress that I had at the back of my closet and stylish black patent heels. Looking good was a must for our ‘chance meeting’. I knew I was being ridiculous, but I just couldn’t help myself.
Maybe I needed a new hobby
. Before leaving work, on my way out, I decided to pop into the women’s washroom, double checking my reflection in the mirror. Mascara and a touch of lip gloss did my face justice and I wore my hair in a ponytail in memory of my youth.
Here goes it Vivian and you better hope he remembers you, if not – you will never, ever, walk on that street again
. Leaving, I passed a small girl coming into the washroom all alone. She was very young; blonde and adorable. I didn’t want to startle her, so as I passed, I just gave her a small smile.

It was a small three stall bathroom and she was alone in there. Where was her mother? I decided I would wait outside the washroom, just to make sure she would be safe. Walking out, I looked back into the washroom, and as I took a few steps forward I bumped -
no crashed
- into a man, using my hands to steady myself on his firm chest.

“Excuse me,” I said in apology.

“That’s quite alright. My daughter just went in there to use the washroom. I’m just waiting for her,” said this handsome, tall, and slightly familiar man.

I stood, speechless. It was Marc Tullford, himself! My heart raced.
Wait a minute, I was just leaving work to stalk you. You can’t be here.
I swallowed and found my voice.

“I..I..just saw her,” I stammered, “she’s ok, the washroom is empty.”

“Thanks, oh good...you look...aren’t you--?” he began.

I found my voice, “I’m Vivian Johanson,” saying it with some newly found confidence, even though I felt my face flaming up like a neon sign.

He extended his hand and with a genuine soothing voice said, “Vivian, of course, wow. Nice to see you after all this time. Wow. I’m Marc Tullford. Do you remember me from grade school?”

Do I remember you? Crap, I know your height, weight and social security number. By the way – you have a really nice chest (I mean house).
Placing my hand in his, he shook it lightly. His hand was warm and secure. We just stood there smiling at each other.

“I can usually find family washrooms when we’re out. But I guess they don’t have ‘em here in the hospital. I don’t like her to go into washrooms without me and you know, I can’t take her into the men’s washroom and I can’t go into the women’s washroom and there are so many crazy people out there. I’m sorry...I’m babbling!” Marc explained with a huge smile.

“I work here,” I blurted out.
Smooth
.

Marc cocked his head to the side and said, “Oh, my daughter and I are visiting her friend from school--”

Just then the bathroom door opened and his daughter came barrelling out. He extended his arm and she automatically placed her tiny hand in his, “Vivian, this is my daughter Jennifer. Daddy used to go to school with this nice lady when I was really young.”

I looked down into her sweet face and she looked up at me just grinning. I said hello and she squeezed her father tighter, shielding her face behind his arm.

“Well, I guess we should go,” as he glanced at his watch, “we have to pick up my son from the sitters. It was so nice to bump into you,” he said kindly.

I wasn’t sure what to do next. Me, standing there in front of this package of perfection and feeling completely dumbfounded. I just wanted to talk to him. I wanted to know if he remembered me in the same way that I so fondly remembered him. We were so young, but it meant something to me.

“Yes, it was so nice to see you after all this time,” I murmured, “take care.”

Just then, as I stood there rooted to my spot, he started to walk away. He turned slightly and said over his shoulder as his daughter stood sweetly by his side, “I work at Bank of America Plaza on Convent Street, 5
^th
floor investing. Come by and we could go for coffee. If you’d like?”

Was he asking me on a date?
No, he was just asking you for a coffee – look at his adorable daughter.

I smiled and accepted his proposal with, “Yeah sure, maybe later this week?”

“Ok... great, good. Nice to see you Vivian,” he said with affirmation. With that, I simply nodded my head in agreement – words mysteriously abandoning me once again - and he turned and walked away. The image of Marc and his daughter, walking away, scanned into my brain forever.

I drove straight home, put on my running shoes and went for a walk by the river. It was a beautiful spring night, and as it had rained earlier, everything smelled alive and fresh. Or perhaps that was just the way I was feeling. I played the scene over a million times in my head. Sometimes after social situations, I replay the conversations in my head, things that I
should
have said, comparing it to what I
did
say. With him, it was the funniest thing; I couldn’t remember what he said. But I do remember how he made me feel.

I decided to wait a few days before I stalked him at his office, deciding on a mid-day visit, as that would be the most inconspicuous. But now, since we met, I won’t put that into the stalking category. So technically, I am no longer a stalker.
Hi Marc, I’m just casually dropping in, haven’t really given you a second thought since we last saw each other.
Friday was a good day to visit. I got up earlier than usual, gave my hair that arduous blow dry that required patience and special tools. He worked in finance, so I decided on fashionable office attire. Slender navy blazer with matching ankle pants and a soft pink ruffled sleeveless blouse set off by elegant heels. I applied my makeup carefully.
So, if he rejects me at his office, at least I’ll look good slinking away
.

That morning at my office, I received numerous compliments on my appearance. So many, in fact, I thought I must be a mess on most days. By 11:30 the butterflies were back in my tummy as I made my way over to Marc’s office. I arrived at the Bank of America tower; where the concierge knowingly gave direction to Mr. Tullford’s office. Taking the elevator up to his floor, I examined my reflection in the mirror. My hair was neat and tidy in the low pony tail, and my makeup was minimal but precisely applied. Then I wondered:
is some creepy security guy having a laugh at my expense watching me look at myself?

The doors opened and I walked over to the reception desk. I asked the overly accommodating receptionist if I could speak with Mr. Tullford. She asked for my name and then told me to sit in the reception waiting area. This was more formal than I had originally imagined. I sat on the edge of a tan leather chair, crossing my legs at the ankles, and waited for Marc.
Maybe he will be too busy and then that will be the end of my stalking career.
Instead, I’d become a full-time lesbian with relaxed back muscles.

A few minutes later, the receptionist came over to me and told me Mr. Tullford would be with me in a moment; asking, ever so politely, if I would like an iced tea or water beverage while I wait.
Well, you should have seen Mr. Tullford when he was 12 and feeling my boobies through my blouse at Belinda Huntington’s house.
But no thank you on the beverage.

So I picked up a magazine and pretended to be interested. Five minutes felt like an eternity, with constant glances to my watch. He came walking down the hall, self-assured and extremely attractive. He had on a grey suit, well tailored, a crisp shirt and purple tie. Mr. Tullford, you or your wife have exquisite taste, and you’ve most definitely have grown into those arms of yours.

I stood up as graciously as I could muster and he offered me his hand. This time, he placed his other hand on top of mine. It felt so right. So warm and comforting. I could see the receptionist watching us from the corner of my eye.
Yes, don’t worry, I am just a friend from years gone past. I know he’s taken.

“Hi Vivian, I’m so glad you found me here,” he said kindly.

“Hi, I hope this isn’t a bad time for you?”
Please say no, say it’s ok
.

Marc crooked his head to the side and replied, “No, this is perfect timing. Would you like to go for a quick lunch or coffee? Are you on your lunch hour?”

I smiled as he made me oh so happy and said, “This is my lunch. I’m pretty flexible with my time. I can go for a bite to eat or coffee, any place is fine with me.”
Any place as long as it’s with you, I wanted to say.

He smiled and nodded his head, “Great, there’s a place across the street that has an excellent lunch menu, and if we leave now, we’ll get a good table.”

With that, we started to walk to the elevator. The doors opened, and he stepped aside, letting me enter first. Good manners, I noted. I watched him press the button. He had beautiful manly hands.
I could certainly put those to use
.
Too bad for you Vivian, you’re late to the party.

He turned, looked at me and said, “You know with your hair up like that, you look just like you did when we were kids. Obviously a little older, but the same girl I knew then.”

“You’re the same too, except now you have to shave.” With that we started to laugh.

The elevator doors opened, and we walked together toward the restaurant. Walking beside him, I noticed that he was taller than me, even with my kick ass high heels. We crossed the street, exchanging small talk about the weather. When we arrived at the restaurant, the hostess placed us at a table for two in the front window. It was a charming bistro with comfortable seating. He politely asked what I would like to drink.
Alcoholic drink or not?
As if he could read my mind, he told me he would be ordering a beer for himself. Oh good, so I ordered a vodka soda with lime.

We spent our lunch talking about where we went to college and our career paths. Our likes: travelling, sports, personal fitness, cooking (my love of cooking and his love of eating). We didn’t talk about his marriage or my lack of marriage. I assumed he knew I wasn’t married due to me not mentioning it and nothing to show on the appropriate ring finger. He wore a wedding band on his left hand. The lunch flew by, and it was time for us to go back to our respective offices.

The bill came and I went to grab for it. “Um, I never let a lady pay. But...thank you for the offer.”

His tone was serious and very firm, and something told me that I need not press the issue any further. He was extremely confident.

I smiled sweetly and quietly said, “Why thank you Sir, this lady appreciates your generosity.” He stared for a few seconds into my eyes, and shook his head.
Marc Tullford has a firm disposition.

Leaving the restaurant I wondered if this would be it. Our one and only encounter began, and then ended, with a quaint lunch on a Friday afternoon. I was most curious to speak with him about our childhood, and oddly enough we didn’t even talk about that. We were at ease with each other. But, he was the one that was married; I certainly would not want to interfere, so I decided at that moment to let him take the lead on this. Perhaps we could remain friendly.

We walked outside, and I turned to him and said, “Thanks for the lunch Marc. It was my pleasure to see you again and—“

“Would you like to get together this weekend? I think I can get away Sunday afternoon. Maybe we could go for a drive? What do you say?” He said it, almost planning out loud as he said it. I was a little surprised.

“Umm, ok. Sunday afternoon. That works for me. I can drive, if you like. Do you want to meet somewhere?” I asked, speaking a little fast, as I was nervous. Suddenly it felt like we were planning a date.

He smirked at me, “No, Vivian, I’ll drive this time. I’ll pick you up, if you’ll give me your address.”
This time?

I started to look for a piece of paper and he asked if I could text it instead. So I grabbed my iPhone, and we exchanged a text. He stood close to me, and I noticed that he smelled good, clean with a light scent of something that was enticing.

I thanked him once again for lunch. I wasn’t sure if I should shake his hand or how to say goodbye. He simply leaned in and brushed his cheek to mine and whispered in my ear and said, “The pleasure was mine. You are just as lovely as you were when we were 12.”

He stepped back and we just looked at each other.

“Sunday”, he nodded to me and swiftly left. I walked to my car, with my feet barely touching the ground. I couldn’t believe how comfortable we were with each other during lunch. I enjoyed him.

I went to my fitness centre that night to sweat out a little sexual frustration. I did about a half hour on the treadmill and then decided on a Pilates class. On my way into the steam room, I noticed that Salina was not in her office, and her name plate was removed. I was curious and asked at the front counter. They said that she had abruptly moved to Houston for a job opportunity. She had left a lovely note for me at the counter, wishing me well. I was actually at peace with not seeing her again. I would chalk it up to one crazy night!

Going home that night, I felt like driving by his house. I wondered what he was up to.
Probably sitting with his wife right now enjoying a glass of wine, you fool.
Instead, I drove home and put on some music and cleaned my condo. Two hours later, I was exhausted as I crawled into my bed, hugged my pillow, and imagined what my life could have been if I wasn’t me.

Saturday morning, I scanned my casual wardrobe and declared it required a new addition, so I spent that afternoon shopping at The shops at LaCantera. My retail therapy excursion consisted of: a complete outfit, two new pairs of shoes, and a new lipstick to adorn my lips. All day as I popped into different stores, I kept reminding myself that Marc and I were just friends, and this shopping spree was just that...this splurge was not for a ‘date’.

A new girlfriend and I, from my condo, went out to the movies on Saturday night, followed by a quick dinner, and I was home before midnight. I was a little distracted, preoccupied in fact, with our pending Sunday drive.
Go ahead; admit to your guilt Vivian, your girlfriend won’t know, you’re falling for a married man
. Then it hit me like a freight train, I wasn’t falling. I still had a mad crush on the boy who sat two seats over in math class. That boy who is now married with a family. I could meet his wife, and that boy would transition into a casual friend for me to love like a brother. Yes, that was my plan.