Rendezvous (2 page)

“
Holy!” A jet flew low
overhead.

Through the inch or so gap on the
driver’s window the rumble drowned out wind noise for a brief
stint. Lights came down in the windshield, with the body of the
machine angled slightly from the path of travel, by which a girl
who admittedly knew nothing of flying sort of figured that there
was a crosswind.

The big jets were getting much lower.
On the right must be Pearson International, with its strobes, and
beacons. She was halfway, maybe even a little more across Greater
Toronto. The traffic, with adequate spaces between the cars and no
white-knuckle guys in evidence for a change, had settled down into
a high-speed, cross-town endurance run. On that notion, they
suddenly backed up into a wall of flashing red tail lights and she
slowed abruptly. She took up a position behind another car. The
city lights, mostly industry by the buildings all around on this
stretch, made her pulse quicken. Off in the distance the towers
felt for the sky with probing fingers of light and the big one with
the strobes over her left shoulder must be the CN Tower. The shape
was right. It looked miles away, but the distance alone was
impressive enough.

She was really doing it. This was the
big city, and she surely was a hick. This brought a nervous grin,
but the fear was nothing like meeting Braden last time. Now, at
least, she had some idea of what was going to happen. It was the
stress of driving. The traffic slowly picked up again, the cause of
the slowdown still a complete mystery. With quick little glances at
the road ahead, she made time to look outside the
windows.

Life was short, and you only went
around once; maybe twice if you were lucky. Heather wondered about
the many men she had fantasized about over the years, in the
biblical sense that was. Whatever would they think of her now? One
or two of them might have been a little bolder…they might have
enjoyed the rewards.

Who knows, they might be jealous of
Braden.

Strange thoughts. She would soon be in
Braden’s arms. They might hate her for unknowable reasons, or more
likely, pity her and see her as an object of contempt. Funny thing
was, she still liked them just fine. One or two of those men might
have worked out, in another life, another existence. Nothing was
impossible after all, and maybe she wouldn’t have been here doing
this right now.

There it was, a sign that said 403
South. She wished her heart would just relax.

Mississauga,
Oakville…Burlington.

Her turnoff couldn’t be more than
fifteen or twenty minutes away. Checking the mirrors for lunatics,
she settled in behind a brown courier van going the same way and
tried to ignore a full bladder, not the best situation when the
road had a slew of lateral cracks and the occasional borderline
pothole.

#

The hotel was right where Braden said
it would be. There was a big sign on a pole up by the road. Good so
far. Heather hadn’t stayed in a hotel or motel for years and
couldn’t quite remember the routine. She found a parking spot not
too far from the lobby and hefted her two bags. Heather walked in
on stiff legs, her head woozy from the hours of sitting and the
fact of suddenly standing up and moving. The place was brightly
lit. A woman in an elegant knitted dress in creamy yellow waited
with eyebrows and facial expression carefully rendering a welcome,
just like they would for any passing stranger with shirt, shoes and
a credit card or any negotiable currency.

“
Hi.”

“
Hello. Welcome to the
Wagon Wheel Inn. May I help you?”

She gratefully put the bags down and
undid her coat a couple of buttons.

“
Yes, thank you. I’m
wondering if you have a Braden Mitchell staying here?”

“
Oh, let me have a look.
Is he expecting you?”

Heather believed he did, they had
spoken on the phone four times over the last week and it was on as
far as she knew.

“
Yes.” Where she was
getting all of this confidence was another question, but she was
well-dressed and a perfect stranger in this burg.

#

Braden had reserved a room on the
second floor, and had mentioned her name to the desk clerk. He also
hadn’t arrived yet, which was a bit troubling but Heather had a few
hundred dollars in cash and the usual credit cards, a debit card
with maybe two hundred in that account. Heather had been living on
a small stipend from her teacher’s pay-cheque for so long she
didn’t even really think about it anymore. The bulk of her earnings
went to her House. The freedom her small inheritance had given her
was a constantly-recurring revelation of sorts.

The lady searched a rack and came up
with a key.

“
Room
two-thirty-four.”

It was up the elevator and down the
hallway leading left, around one more turn and there she
was.

Unlocking the door and snapping on the
lights, the place was nice enough in a kind of Howard Johnson’s
predictability. It was the first time she’d ever had that thought.
Getting away from home was good for her. Even without Braden,
getting out of town would have been a good thing, although what she
would do alone in a place like Burlington eluded her for the
moment.

Other than dress like a whore and try
and pick someone up…the thought stirred her, almost uncomfortable
in its intensity. She went to the window. Peeling the curtain back,
she looked out hopefully, checking for Braden’s big vehicle. There
was a good view of the street, anyway.

Heather put the first case up on the
bed and unsnapped it. It was almost one in the morning and she
would like a shower and some sleep, unless Braden turned up in the
next hour, maybe even half-hour or so.

It had been years since Heather
deviated from routine, or violated her set time for bed by more
than a half hour. That routine helped keep her stable. It made life
easier, and anyone could see the sense in that. It made it easier
to go to work in the morning.

She was just turning off the water and
pulling back the shower curtain, all squeaky clean now, when a
light thud from the outer room caught her attention. Cool air
swirled in through the door, which was not quite closed.

Heather stepped out and started
toweling off, ears tuned for further sounds.

Keys or money hit the top of the long
desk along the front wall.

“
Braden?”

“
Yeah, Baby!”

Heather’s heart flooded with relief.
It was going to be all right.

“
Hi, lover!” Heather’s
face was lit up in the mirror by the worst blush, as she went naked
to the bathroom door and stuck her head out.

Braden might not be alone, and she was
relieved to see her man sitting on the end of the bed pulling off
his shiny black shoes. Braden looked good in a suit, but then
Heather had kind of expected that. No one else in the room, and
thank God.

Braden looked around, giving a smile
of recognition.

“
You’ve got the place all
steamed up.”

Heather smiled, stepping out and
giving a habitual ruffle of her wet hair.

“
Yeah, eh. I must have
been thinking of you.”

Braden flung off his jacket and the
two embraced, Heather in full hedonist nakedness, unashamed and
looking forward to two whole days with Braden and the other still
in pants and shirt but looking calm and relaxed.

The two smooched, with Braden’s hands
on her bottom and Heather swaying from side to side, setting the
mood by living it at first hand.

“
Hello.” His eyes bored
into hers.

“
Hi.”

This was real. The week by the lake
was real. Braden was real. Everything was real, including the bulge
evident in Braden’s trousers, the swelling of her nipples, and the
goose bumps and little shivers going all up and down her spine.
Braden looked down into her eyes and said nothing at all, taking
the time to enjoy the strong beat of Heather’s heart up against his
own chest and the shared warmth of two bodies up close.

#

As promised, Braden had done a little
shopping. Heather bit back tears and wondered how much all of this
had cost.

Braden’s eyes gleamed from the side of
the other bed, more was the pity but the room had a pair of fairly
wide singles rather than one big double bed.

Braden would need to get some sleep
sooner or later.

“
I’d love to see you model
that for me.”

Heather’s heartbeat elevated and she
nodded. There was a hint of a sniffle in her breathing. It was the
least she could do, and she was itching to see herself in those
gorgeous red shoes. She was under better emotional control if she
sort of kept busy.

“
What would you like to
see first?”

“
A smile would be
nice.”

Heather bit her lip.

“
It’s all so lovely. You
really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble and
expense.”

“
It’s a master’s duty to
look after his slave…why, I even feed them and everything.” Braden
rubbed his crotch ostentatiously.

This elicited a faint smile from
Heather, who gathered up a few items that seemed to go together
well and bending low to kiss Braden on the forehead, headed for the
bathroom with its big vanity mirror and its row of frosted lights
along the top.

With trembling fingers, Heather tore
open the thin plastic film and tried on the lacy red stockings.
Slender as her upper legs were, the movement of muscles under the
skin and their own gossamer weight were enough to keep pulling them
down so next she put on the thin black garter belt and fussed with
the clips until she was sure she had it right.

Wearing the friendship ring Braden had
given her up north, and a pair of clip-on emerald-green crystal
earrings as she simply didn’t have the nerve for piercing, Heather
hesitated between two choices, but in the end a filmy, sheer black
teddy with the minimum of adornment rounded out the outfit.
Standing back and regarding herself in the mirror, she leaned in
close and applied the thin pink lip gloss. She tousled her hair
with her fingers. The sight was enough to make her straighten up
and think a bit. She had no known friends or relatives up where
Braden lived. She was a free person and could do what she liked.
She could go where she liked.

All it took was guts.

Such thoughts were premature, as she
snapped off the bathroom light and stepped out into the room, much
dimmer now with nothing but the bright blue glow of the TV and the
bedside lamp in between their beds was the only illumination. A
late-night comic was interviewing someone Heather had never seen
before. The sound was turned down.

“
Well.” Braden sat up in
bed a bit.

Without prompting, Heather bent and
put the shoes on. Carefully, standing tall and a bit loosely like a
supermodel, she walked across along the front wall of the unit,
studying herself in the big mirror and not incidentally enjoying
the look on Braden’s face as he stared at Heather’s behind. For
some reason that part, the way everything came together in angles
and planes and sinuous curves really set him off.

Heather paused and looked back
provocatively over her right shoulder, left hand on her hip, the
clean line of her new haircut making her look cute and adorable in
Braden’s eyes. At least that was the idea. Her eyes were big dark
pools.

Heather spun, a bit wobbly on her new
heels, and stood, back arched, bum sticking out, with a hand on her
inner thigh and the other arm hanging long and loose all
dramatically off to one side.

“
Beautiful. Wonderful.”
Braden feigned a sustained golf clap as Heather stole another quick
glance at herself in the mirror.

She really was a terrible narcissist
but as long as Braden was having fun that was okay.

Dropping his feet over the side of the
bed, Braden came over and they held each other, swaying like the
lovers they were as Heather buried herself in Braden’s neck. Braden
nibbled at an ear.

“
Thank you. I feel so
wonderful, Braden.”

“
Heh-heh, You know, I
almost bought you a bondage hood. I saw one in black leather, all
studs and panels, and then there was another one in red spandex…a
real stretchy thing with a zipper for the mouth.” This was a good
way to test the waters.

Heather gasped.

“
I’d wear one of those!”
Heather licked her lips, pulling back so she could look into
Braden’s eyes. “You still haven’t fucked me in a car yet. You could
tie me up and rape me in the park. We could sneak into a
construction site at night…”

She wanted to do it on a beach, too,
as Braden recalled. Oh, and in a horse barn, up in the hayloft…on a
sunny June afternoon.

Heather had a horny mind, and wanted
to try everything as soon as she thought of it. It wasn’t exactly
spontaneity—she thought it all out well in advance. Heather had
years of fantasy all stoked up inside of her.