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smiling as the alcoholic warmth slipped inside her. Quietly, almost as an aside, she murmured, It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if someone gets fired very soon. Or maybe several someones. Happily, that’s not in my hands. He expressed his commiseration with a nod of agreement and a soft chuckle. He still couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Today she was wearing a smartly tailored navy blue pants suit; snug, but not too snug, highlighting and suggesting, rather than blatantly proclaiming, her physical virtues. Her white blouse with the camisole under it was a replica of Monday’s, but the bow at her neck was a soft powder blue, with some kind of design in it that Justin couldn’t quite make out. He noticed her jewelry today; a soft, black velvet choker obscured her throat, and short hanging earrings, with what appeared to be sapphires in them, finished the effect. He didn’t notice any rings on her fingers, which surprised him somewhat, as it seemed decorating every finger with a ring was em de rigeur em for most women nowadays. Following a s

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hort lull in the conversation, he asked her if she would like to have dinner with him. She smiled and said, I thought you’d never ask. They finished their drinks and left the lounge, heading for the parking lot. Over dinner, at a local steak house that the hotel recommended, their conversation continued. Justin was a little regretful over the restaurant. The food was excellent, but it was not, he thought, a place for romantic conversation. And his thoughts were definitely running in that direction. He didn’t know if Erin’s were, but he had hopes. She told him of her life, and he told her of his. They talked about their college years and how they’d gotten into their lines of work. Adventures they’d had in college, even confessing, as one will sometimes to a stranger, intimate adventures they’d had in the past. Keeping his voice down, he related the time he’d woken up in bed with a fraternity brother, both of them naked and hung over. She wanted to laugh loudly, but an older couple two tables away had already shot them one glance ov

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er excessive noise. Talk turned to their families. Justin told of his wife, how he’d met her in college, and how they’d settled down into the American dream. The house in the suburbs, the kids, and the white picket fence. Erin almost looked wistful as she listened to his stories of simple domesticity. Her family life was much simpler, a mom and dad that she rarely saw, and a kid sister that she saw even less. The way she talked about them, it was like she was just filling in a form; there was no emotion, no caring. So I live in a condo, no yard, and someone else takes care of all the maintenance for me. She took a long sip of her drink and asked, Are you on the road a lot Justin? He nodded, At least one week a month, sometimes two, every so often three. It gets very tiring and irritating sometimes. He chuckled softly. You know about it. It’s just all the petty little inconveniences that keep cropping up, and not being at home sleeping in your own bed. She nodded, knowing and agreeing, murmuring to herself very softly, And sleeping

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alone. Justin wasn’t sure he was supposed to have heard that last sentence, it was so barely audible. But he had a sudden flash of sadness for the young woman, a brief insight into her life. While he would at least go home to a loving wife and a warm bed, when she returned home, there was no one waiting for her. She would wake up alone in bed, whether at home or in a hotel. As the conversation continued, Justin pondered that, finding it horribly sad. As they left the restaurant, it was beginning to get dusky. The sun was going down and the street lights were beginning to come on. Across from the restaurant was a small park, a place for children to play and couples to walk. Erin turned to Justin and asked, Would you like to take a walk? He smiled, crooked his arm for her and said, I’d be delighted. She smiled again, not the happy, bright smile when he first met her, but the sad smile of a woman who was thinking too hard about too many things, and most of them unpleasant. She slipped her arm in his, walking beside him as they cross

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ed the street. A passerby might have mistaken them for an old, married couple, so well did they fit together. When they reached the park, she leaned against him as they walked, her head resting on his shoulder. He smiled softly as he felt her hair, loose and blowing in the soft evening breeze, occasionally caress his neck. For a long time both were quiet, lost in their own thoughts, each simply enjoying the other’s company. Eventually, they came to a park bench, a place where mothers would sit to watch their children run around the playground, but right now agreeably empty. She motioned for them to sit, and they did. He sat first, taking her hand as she followed, nestling much closer to him than he had expected, but so pleased that she did. Her scent mingled with the flowers and trees in the evening air and it filled his nose with a heady aroma. She was silent as she took her seat, her eyes downcast, still holding Justin’s hand, resting it on her thigh. He was silent, content to enjoy the moment, but also sure she had something on

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her mind, something she wanted to talk about. The park was still, save for a soft breeze rustling the tree leaves. Traffic was just a distant murmur, easily ignored. Justin, she started haltingly, as she gathered her thoughts, I would like to ask you a question, but, first… did you feel it? Monday night when we first saw each other? Justin thought back to that night, remembering sitting at the bar, looking across the way, and spotting her that first time. He remembered… You mean that… spark? Between you and I? He smiled softly as she nodded at his words. I thought that may have just been me. I see that it wasn’t. In the darkness, he smiled, pleased there was a connection there, but anxious for his new friend, wondering what was troubling her. She nodded, Yes, that ’spark‘ as you call it, that connection we felt. She held his hand tightly as the thoughts ran through her mind in a jumbled. Justin, I feel I should tell you something, but I’m scared. She was actually trembling next to him, and he couldn’t imagine what her conce

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rn might be. He placed his other hand on top of hers and squeezed it tightly between them. His thoughts racing ahead, he thought he knew part of the problem. You’ve told others before and gotten a bad reaction? If I had to guess? he murmured softly. She looked up at him, a soft pain in her eyes and nodded. He lifted her hand to his lips and softly kissed the delicate skin on the back of her hand, never taking his eyes from hers. She watched, almost hypnotized, as her hand rose, as his lips kissed, and as her hand was lowered again. When her hand was back on her thigh, she looked at him again, almost as if seeing him for the first time. She took a deep breath, causing her breasts to rise, and to look even more beautiful. She slowly exhaled. Justin, please take us back to the motel. There’s something I need to show you. An hour or so later, he walked through the long corridor of the motel on his way to Erin’s room. She had asked him to give her some time to shower and refresh herself before he came up, and he had taken the opportuni

ty to do likewise. Now, dressed in khaki slacks, a loose fitting sweater and sandals (all chosen for comfort) he approached her room and knocked on her door. There was a short pause, and then the door opened and there she was. She took him by surprise. Her hair had been freshly washed and blow dried but she was still in her robe. He wasn’t an expert, but she appeared to have removed her makeup and then re-applied just the essentials; some lipstick, perhaps a touch of blush and some perfume. Her robe was pulled tight; no glance of cleavage or bare leg showed. She blushed softly, perhaps having second thoughts, but she stepped back and invited him in. She was nervous, perhaps scared, even excited as well, and he still had no idea just what she wanted to tell him. But in the course of two short days he had come to care greatly for her. If he could help her he would. That spark can be a powerful thing. She led him to the lounge chair and had him sit. She then sat, not in his lap, but on his knee, seeming to crave the contact with him,

but reluctant to do too much. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly while Justin patiently waited. Softly, she began to speak, Justin, in all my life I’ve only felt the spark with one other person. And that was two years and a thousand mil

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