The Other Other Woman (3 page)

“Hey Jeff, how long you been waiting? Why didn’t you order yourself a drink, guy?” Matt asked, as he pulled my chair out for me.

“I was just trying to be polite and wait on the ladies to get here.”

I quickly piped up, “Oh, well Matt’s here now…”

I heard a little “Ooooh” under Jeff’s breath and Matt shot me one of those “Oh so
that’s
how it is, huh?” glances.
God,
I thought,
he’s really good looking. And tan. Why is he so tan in April?

I would come to love those little sideways glances so much, and I would get them often, because I was always picking on him. I picked on him for being a republican (but he was socially liberal!), for being a little fancy pants when it came to his wardrobe, for being befuddled by non-qwerty keyboards and other technological advancements. That was my flirting shtick, I guess–the only thing I knew how to do well–just like back in elementary school when you playfully teased the boy you had a crush on.

The others arrived and we all got settled in with some Pinot and appetizers, Matt started off talking about exercising. Jeff was also a runner like me. Matt ran sometimes, too, but his exercise of choice was cycling. Now the tan made sense. I immediately started picturing what his body must look like under that light blue pinstriped dress shirt that complimented his creamy coffee-colored skin just so. I thought I could trace the outline of his chest and arms. Oh man, I do love me a good chest. I bet he has a rock solid ass and big ripped thighs too, I imagined. On the surface it appeared like he would be my physical ideal, actually. He was tall, just under six feet, but didn’t tower over me. He had a lean, athletic build; not hard and muscle-bound or too chiseled, but just enough for you to know he could pick you up and throw you on the bed. I definitely did not just double check the size of his feet, no sir.

My foot inspection was interrupted by Matt mentioning one of his latest rides that lasted about four hours. I let out a groan. “FOUR HOURS!? On a bike?! For lack of a better word, doesn’t that hurt your taint?”

“Oh, well, you get used to penile numbness in this sport pretty quickly.”

A round of giggles erupted at the table, especially the ladies. His eyes twinkled devilishly as he laughed at himself and I think I saw him for the first time all over again. The way he ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair a bit nervously, those dimples, the self-deprecating sense of humor. It’s probably one of the things I find most appealing in anyone, really, male or female. We kept stealing glances at each other as everyone continued to drink up and cut up. Every time I thought I could sneak a peek at him, his charismatic dark brown eyes met mine. He would smile or wink at me with a gleam of mischief and I would blush like a fool. I had never met most of the ladies here before now, and the guys only briefly at the conference. But they made me instantly comfortable, as if I had been a part of their group for years. Just very down to earth and fun. Maybe it was the wine.

We started discussing food and more specifically, cooking.

“So, tell us Mal, are you a meat eater?” he said with complete seriousness that made me almost spit out my wine with laughter. And that started yet another entire chain of giggles at the table.

“Why, yes, Matt, I am a meat eater… and I can cook it too.”

“Like what, what’s your favorite thing to cook?”

“Beef tenderloin is probably my favorite, especially with horseradish mayo, but I would say any kind of meat you can name I can cook it pretty darn perfectly, which for beef, is medium rare.” That was true, I could cook just about any animal, poke it with my finger and tell you if it was done or not. It’s a rare gift. “But I absolutely hate fish,” I continued. “All of it. I won’t eat any seabugs at all.”

He looked horrified. “How on earth can you be from Maine and not eat fish? Is that how you ended up in North Carolina? They kicked you out of the state, didn’t they? That’s got to be some sort of crime…”

“Yes, my mother and I fled to avoid treason charges,” I retorted.
Ah well
, I thought to myself,
we can’t have everything in common
. I quickly covered, “I’ll still cook it though. I’ll just hold my nose the entire time and won’t eat it.”

We discussed traveling, which led to him talking about some of his past trips to Ukraine. He and his wife, Sandra, had adopted a young boy from an orphanage there about nine years ago, and he had gone back each year, sometimes several times a year, to give them cash donations and desperately needed supplies. He had already made plans to visit again in the summer. It was obviously a cause near and dear to his heart, and I thought it was very touching how much effort he put into making those children’s lives better.

We continued to laugh and talk and drink for hours and one by one people started leaving the table and heading home. By about eight p.m., it was just me, Matt and another advisor, Parker, still standing. Matt must have been able to tell I was getting tipsy, because he took my glass of wine and practically looked right through me as he poured half of it into his. I kept hoping Parker was going to take off and leave us there, but instead he took one last swig of his beer and announced, “Everyone ready?” Matt paid the bill and the three of us meandered back to the parking deck.

I remember feeling a little disappointed because I only wanted a few minutes alone with him, just to see what would happen. Not that anything would, but I wanted to see what he would say, how he would act. I wondered if he would hug me a little tighter against him or maybe kiss my cheek a bit more slowly this time. Would he admit that he felt a sudden spark between us too? As Parker got into his car and drove away, Matt asked me where I was staying. Then he boldly insisted on following me there just to make sure I arrived safely after all that drinking.

Yesssss!

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but I wasn’t like that. I was a married woman, perhaps unhappily, and he was perhaps an unhappily married man. Obviously, there was the possibility of a slight attraction. Okay, so maybe I was seeing rainbows and unicorns and shit, but it was probably just the wine at this point. I certainly wasn’t about to become some dirty cheater who sleeps with a random co-worker the first time she’s allowed away from home. That just wasn’t me.

He followed me back to the Residence Inn which was only a few blocks away. We both stepped out of our cars to say goodnight and goodbye. I really didn’t want to say either of those. He leaned up against the door of his silver BMW and I stood there in front of him, facing him, so incredibly close to him that the fabric of our shirts was touching. No one said anything for a minute or five. I pressed myself further into him for some stability although I wasn’t really sure if it was the wine anymore. Oh God, he smelled so good. I gazed up at him and spoke softly.

“Hey, Matt, thanks again for the food and the drinks and the company. I had a fantastic time. This was way better than Summerville.” (A little private joke there.)

“It was my pleasure, sweetie.”

He kept looking down at me with those gorgeous dark chocolate eyes, like he was going to say something, anything, please say something else. Instead he just continued to stare as if he could see the wholly inappropriate thoughts running through my head. We both swayed a little bit, my head fell against his chest for a moment and I kept it there, placing my hand up against him for balance. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. My heart was barely beating, just so still and calm. I felt each second go by waiting for him to make a move, while I imagined what it might be like to touch his lips. He finally gave a heavy sigh and whispered… “We’ve had a lot to drink… I’d better go…”

I nodded in agreement. We hugged each other for at least a few seconds too long, and he held my face as he gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. And then I watched him get back in his car and drive away. Damn it. I should have kissed him back. Right square on the mouth. What would have been the harm? No one would have to know.

Once I got back inside my quiet room, the alcohol really hit me. Just at that moment it occurred to me that I never asked him if he was okay to drive. Not knowing where he lived, I began to worry whether or not I should call him. Luckily, after just a few minutes of me lying on the bed trying to get my bearings back, I got a text from him letting me know he was home and asking me if I was okay.

I’ve got the spins really bad, Matt.

Babe, you hardly ate anything, you need some food! Do you want me to bring you something?

YES, OMG YES I DO. DOITNOW.

I mean, God no I could NOT say that. I thanked him, but said I would order room service. I lucked out that this hotel had a local steakhouse deliver for room service and no way was I passing that up. Did he just call me babe?

Go for the Porterhouse, baby!

The friendly texts continued until we were both ready for bed. I had scheduled another branch visit on my way back home, so he said that if I needed anything at all, he would be in the office at seven a.m. He asked me to let him know once I was up and on the road. I couldn’t fall asleep, my mind was racing. I wanted to tell someone, anyone, about what had just happened even though nothing actually had happened, had it?

The next morning he sent me a
Good morning
text anyway. I love him.

****

Let’s get back to Cecilia, shall we? CeCe was one of the greatest gals I had never met. We knew each other and developed our friendship through a large internet message board. We joined up as newly engaged girls to plan our wedding over ten years ago and remained members ever since. She lived just south of Atlanta, but happened to work very close by.

She was just up the street from where I was staying, so I called her over to have breakfast with me at my hotel before I headed out of town. As soon as I saw her blonde hair and big smile, it was like seeing an old friend. We were acting like a couple of screechy teenage girls, gesturing wildly and just so excited to finally see each other. She had the sweetest, most genuine Georgia peach voice, yet it was so matter-of-fact. It’s like when you hear someone say, “Aww, bless your heart!” and they totally mean for you to go fuck yourself. We started off chatting about our kids for a while, and moved on to some current message board drama. Then I took a deep breath and lowered my voice, “Listen, I need to tell you something. I think I’m in trouble, CeCe.”

“Well, come sit next to me! I’m all ears!”

“I met someone last night. Okay, well not really, I met him back in February, although I’ve actually known him about a year, oh Jesus, this is way too complicated. Anyway, we went out for a group thing last night at work and I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I cannot stop thinking about this man. I just wanted to kiss him so bad.”

I kept waiting for her to slap me upside the head or something but instead she just cocked her head and said, “AND…?” And so I explained how we worked together, his job and where his office was, and then I googled him to show her what he looked like.

“Oh my God, you idiot! Why didn’t you just do it? Why don’t you go over to his office now, six blocks that-a-way and just kiss him?!” she cried.

I was dumbfounded. “Good grief, woman! You are supposed to be reminding me that I’m married, he’s married, we’re all married and nobody needs to be kissing anyone up in here!”

“Well you aren’t dead!” she argued. “You’ve been unhappy for freaking ever, everyone knows that. It’s not that crazy that you would find yourself attracted to someone else, and you are six hours away from home. As long as it was just a kiss, what’s the harm? As long you both know that it can’t go any further than that, what’s a little kiss between friends?”

“You are so not helping me here, CeCe.”

She started cracking jokes about how bad I could have been, which made me feel a lot less guilty. But we were laughing so hard we had tears streaming down our faces and were apparently disturbing everyone else trying to have their coffee and waffles in peace.

I hugged Cecilia goodbye and headed out of the parking lot toward Augusta. I sat there at the stop sign for at least a minute trying to decide if I wanted to make a right turn and head up to the branch or not. But what would I even do when I got there and I saw him again? What if he hadn’t wanted to kiss me and he just had a little too much to drink the night before? Oh God, what if he would actually be offended? How on earth would I explain why I was there as our other co-workers started to arrive? No, I needed to go left, and fast, and get on the road.

Not five minutes into my trip, he called me and asked me how breakfast with my friend was. I told him it was a blast and that he got mentioned in our conversation. I figured his curiosity would be piqued now.

“Oh, really? How so?”

“I was just telling her how much fun I had last night and how cute and funny you are.”

“Did you tell her I look like Obama?”

“Indeed I did. I told her that you
think
you look like Obama.” (He doesn’t.)

He laughed and reminded me to be careful on the road and to let him know when I arrived in Augusta. I promised him that I would, but my mind was consumed with all of the possible excuses I could think of to turn my car around. I had to see him again. I would only need a minute; I just wanted a little kiss. Even when I was halfway to Augusta, I considered calling him. What if I asked him to meet me in the middle? What if I simply reversed direction and told the Augusta branch that I ran into some major traffic delay? “Sorry, folks, I’m going to be about two hours late, there was a dangerously hot man in a silver BMW blocking my entire lane…” No, I couldn’t do that. What kind of person was I? Jesus!

I wrapped up my Augusta branch visit as quickly as possible and headed back home. There were some friendly texts between us, mostly just me reassuring him that Atlanta was, in fact, the most fun of the branches I had visited so far that year. He sent a few
let me know that you are okay and that you got home
kinds of things. I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but I missed him already. I just missed being in his presence. I had only been away from home for 36 hours but I felt like so much had changed somehow in such a short time. The long drive home (I took a wrong turn so it was extra-long!) gave me a lot of time to think about my current situation.