She knew he was there, but couldn’t spot him in the sea of people. She glanced around the room of revelers quickly as she made her way to the bar. “Where was he?”
She felt frustrated, excited and vulnerable all at once while she sipped her Merlot. “Why did we have to meet here?”
It had been hours that turned to days since they’d last been together. She cursed his company and his boss for taking him away on business. One week was seven days too many as far as she was concerned. They had only talked briefly due to the difference in time zones, instead resorting to e-mail tag. But e-mail was so impersonal – no deep voice in her ear promising to be reunited soon and no gentle laughter to dissuade her concern of his safety. And then there was the last e-mail that contained only 2 simple instructions: 1) Continental Hotel, top floor, 8pm. 2) Black cocktail dress, no underwear.
She took another long sip while scanning faces, careful to avoid eye contact lest she be approached by some drunken, over-the-hill accountant. “Where WAS he? This is so not fair!”
She had known why he wanted her to meet him at the Continental. It was his boss’s annual birthday soiree, and coincidentally, the night of his return flight. What she didn’t anticipate was his second request…
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