I immediately apologized profusely and gave her a brief, sideways glance when she replied that she had something else in mind when she had told herself she had hoped to run into me again. I smiled and offered to buy her a drink to make it up to her. In response, she blushed and covered part of her face with her wedding ring-clad hand before respectfully declining. It was now my turn to hand her a business card of the restaurant in the city where I worked and I even made sure to jot down my cell phone number on the back and promised to make her reservation for her if she texted me in advance should she ever wish to come visit.
She blushed again at my forwardness and told me she might take me up on the offer.
I’ll spare you, dear reader, the boring details of what transpired the next few months and give you a brief synopsis. Kay and I started texting…a lot. These texts started, as they often do, with subtle flirting and ballooned into full on descriptions of explicit sexual acts.
I know it sounds cliche, (cliches do exist for a reason though), but Kay was the epitome of the neglected wife. Her husband’s sex drive had deteriorated to the point of a sexless marriage, but worse, the beginnings of his midlife crisis had made her an almost afterthought to him. I would come to find out she texted me not only to satisfy her desire to feel sexual again, but also just to have a male companion in her life. She would ask me questions about culinary school and what life was like in the big city for a Southern transplant. Her life of being an ignored wife, mother of two, and part owner of a small business didn’t allow her to have much excitement in her life. Thats when I began to really encourage her to come take a weekend trip to come see me. I pulled out all the tricks I could. I sent her photos of food I had cooked, nights out on the town I had with buddies from school, as well as other various things I knew would stimulate her mental and sexual appetites. She never said no, but she always seemed apprehensive for obvious reasons, while also outright stating she would love to come see me. Then it finally happened.
There was going to be some NY small business owner’s convention in the city which was designed for entrepreneurs to network and gain access to resources to help businesses build and expand. It was supposed to last five days. Her husband had no interest in going, but she convinced him it would be a good idea for her to go so she could have some personal time away from the kids and help the business at the same time. He eventually relented.
There was no way I could get five days of free time from school and work, but I made arrangements for two full days off and I managed a third night off after an early work shift. It gave Kay plenty of time to actually attend the convention and still have time to mix pleasure into her schedule.
****
Wednesday – The first day of the convention and her first night in town
Normally when I’m in the kitchen, I have laser-guided focus. The heat, the fast pace, the endless synapses firing as I multitask five things at once while listening to orders being barked out and hollering my responses back in return are all things that simply happen seamlessly. Wednesday night wasn’t seamless. I couldn’t stop thinking about how excited I was to see Kay after work. I got yelled at more than my fair share that night for not having my head on straight, but I didn’t really give a shit. Funny enough, my sous chef made fun of me by implying I couldn’t focus because I hadn’t gotten laid in forever. I smirked to myself and continued to think about what the rest of the night had in store.