She giggled. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. We’re old friends.” She looked concerned. “I didn’t offend you, did I?”
No.
“I can’t imagine you ever getting prudish, Tom.”
“No, no.”
“Not you.” She laughed. “Remember the night we broke the bed?”
He poured the wine. “We didn’t exactly break it.”
“Sure we did. You had me bent over the bottom of the footboard and”
“I remember-”
“And first we broke the footboard, and then the bottom of the bed crashed downbut you didn’t want to stop so we moved up and then when I was grabbing the headboard it all came
“I remember,” he said, wanting to interrupt her, to stop this. “Those days were great. Listen, Meredith-”
“And then the woman from downstairs called up? Remember her? The old Lithuanian lady? She vanted to know if somebody had died or vhat?”
“Yeah. Listen. Going back to the drive . . .”
She took the wineglass. “I am making you uncomfortable. What did you think I was coming on to you?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
“Good, because I really wasn’t. I promise.” She gave him an amused glance, then tilted her head back, exposing her long neck, and sipped the wine. “In fact, I-ah! Ah!” She winced suddenly.
“What is it?” he said, leaning forward, concerned.
“My neck, it goes into spasm, it’s right there . . .” With her eyes still squeezed shut in pain, she pointed to her shoulder, near the neck.
“What should I-”
`Just rub it, squeeze-there-”
He put down his wineglass and rubbed her shoulder. “There?”
“Yes, ah, harder-squeeze -”
He felt the muscles of her shoulder relax, and she sighed. Meredith turned her head back and forth slowly, then opened her eyes. “Oh . . . Much better . . . Don’t stop rubbing.”
He continued rubbing.
“Oh, thanks. That feels good. I get this nerve thing. Pinched something, but when it hits, it’s really . . .” She turned her head back and forth. Testing. “You did that very well. But you were always good with your hands, Tom.”
He kept rubbing. He wanted to stop. He felt everything was wrong, that he was sitting too close, that he didn’t want to be touching her. But it also felt good to touch her. He was curious about it.
“Good hands,” she said. “God, when I was married, I thought about you all the time.”
“You did?”
“Sure,” she said. “I told you, he was terrible in bed. I hate a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing.” She closed her eyes. “That was never your problem, was it.”
She sighed, relaxing more, and then she seemed to lean into him, melting toward his body, toward his hands. It was an unmistakable sensation. Immediately, he gave her shoulder a final friendly squeeze, and took his hands away.
She opened her eyes. She smiled knowingly. “Listen,” she said, “don’t worry.”
He turned and sipped his wine. “I’m not worried.”
“I mean, about the drive. If it turns out we really have problems and need agreement from higher management, we’ll get it. But let’s not jump the gun now.”
“Okay, fine. I think that makes sense.” He felt secretly relieved to be talking once again about the drive. Back on safe ground. “Who would you take it to? Directly to Garvin?”
“I think so. I prefer to deal informally.” She looked at him. “You’ve changed, haven’t you.”
“No . . . I’m still the same.”
“I think you’ve changed.” She smiled. “You never would have stopped rubbing me before.”
“Meredith,” he said, “it’s different. You run the division now. I work for you.”
“Oh, don’t be silly.”
“It’s true.”
“We’re colleagues.” She pouted. “Nobody around here really believes I’m superior to you. They just gave me the administrative work, that’s all. We’re colleagues, Tom. And I just want us to have an open, friendly relationship.”
“So do I.”
“Good. I’m glad we agree on that.” Quickly, she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. “There. Was that so terrible?”
“lt wasn’t terrible at all.”
“Who knows? Maybe we’ll have to go to Malaysia together, to check on the assembly lines. They have very nice beaches in Malaysia. You ever been to Kuantan?”
« _
No.
“You’d love it.”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll show it to you. We could take an extra day or two. Stop over. Get some sun.”
“Meredith-”
“Nobody needs to know, Tom.”
“I’m married.”
“You’re also a man.”
“What does that mean?”
“Oh Tom,” she said, with mock severity, “don’t ask me to believe you never have a little adventure on the side. I know you, remember?”
“You knew me a long time ago, Meredith.”
“People don’t change. Not that way.”
“Well, I think they do.”
“Oh, come on. We’re going to be working together, we might as well enjoy ourselves.”
He didn’t like the way any of this was going. He felt pushed into an awkward position. He felt stuffy and puritanical when he said: “I’m married now.”
“Oh, I don’t care about your personal life,” she said lightly. “I’m only responsible for your on-the-job performance. All work and no play, Tom. It can be bad for you. Got to stay playful.” She leaned forward. “Come on. Just one little kiss . . .”
The intercom buzzed. “Meredith,” the assistant’s voice said.
She looked up in annoyance. “I told you, no calls.”
“I’m sorry. It’s Mr. Garvin, Meredith.”
“All right.” She got off the couch and walked across the room to her desk, saying loudly, “But after this, Betsy, no more calls.”
“All right, Meredith. I wanted to ask you, is it okay if I leave in about ten minutes? I have to see the landlord about my new apartment.”
“Yes. Did you get me that package?”
“I have it right here.”
“Bring it in, and then you can leave.”
“Thank you, Meredith. Mr. Garvin is on two.”
Meredith picked up the phone and poured more wine. “Bob,” she said. “Hi. What’s up?” It was impossible to miss the easy familiarity in her voice.
She spoke to Garvin, her back turned to Sanders. He sat on the couch, feeling stranded, foolishly passive and idle. The assistant entered the room carrying a small package in a brown paper bag. She gave the package to Meredith.
“Of course, Bob,” Meredith was saying. “I couldn’t agree more. We’ll certainly deal with that.”
The assistant, waiting for Meredith to dismiss her, smiled at Sanders. He felt uncomfortable just sitting there on the couch, so he got up, walked to the window, pulled his cellular phone out of his pocket, and dialed Mark Lewyn’s number. He had promised to call Lewyn anyway.
Meredith was saying, “That’s a very good thought, Bob. I think we should act on it.”
Sanders heard his call dial, and then an answering machine picked up. A male voice said, “Leave your message at the beep.” Then an electronic tone.
“Mark,” he said, “it’s Tom Sanders. I’ve talked about Twinkle with Meredith. Her view is that we’re in early production and we are shaking out the lines. She takes the position that we can’t say for sure that there are any significant problems to be flagged, and that we should treat the situation as standard procedure for the bankers and C-W people tomorrow . . .”
The assistant walked out of the room, smiling at Sanders as she passed him.
“. . . and that if we have problems with the drive later on that we have to get management involved with, we’ll face that later. I’ve given her your thoughts, and she’s talking to Bob now, so presumably we’ll go into the meeting tomorrow taking that position . . .”
The assistant came to the door to the office. She paused briefly to twist the lock in the doorknob, then left, closing the door behind her.
Sanders frowned. She had locked the door on her way out. It wasn’t so much the fact that she had done it, but the fact that he seemed to be in the middle of an arrangement, a planned event in which everyone else understood what was going on and he did not.
“ . . Well, anyway, Mark, if there is a significant change in all this, I’ll contact you before the meeting tomorrow, and-”
“Forget that phone,” Meredith said coming up suddenly, very close to him, pushing his hand down, and pressing her body against his. Her lips mashed against his mouth. He was vaguely aware of dropping the phone on the windowsill as they kissed and she twisted, turning away, and they tumbled over onto the couch.
“Meredith, wait-”
“Oh God, I’ve wanted you all day,” she said intensely. She kissed him again, rolling on top of him, lifting one leg to hold him down. His position was awkward but he felt himself responding to her. His immediate thought was that someone might come in. He had a vision of himself, lying on his back on the couch with his boss half-straddling him in her businesslike navy suit, and he was anxious about what the person seeing them would think, and then he was truly responding.
She felt it too, and it aroused her more. She pulled back for a breath. “Oh God, you feel so good, I can’t stand the bastard touching me. Those stupid glasses. Oh! I’m so hot, I haven’t had a decent fuck-” and then she threw herself back on him, kissing him again, her mouth mashed on him. Her tongue was in his mouth and he thought, Jesus, she’s pushing it. He smelled her perfume, and it immediately brought back memories.
She shifted her body so she could reach down and touch him, and she moaned when she felt him through his trousers. She fumbled at the zipper. He had suddenly conflicting images, his desire for her, his wife and his kids, memories of the past, of being with her in the apartment in Sunnyvale, of breaking the bed. Images of his wife.
“Meredith”
“Oooh. Don’t talk. No! No . . .” She was gasping in little breaths, her mouth puckering rhythmically like a goldfish. He remembered that she got that way. He had forgotten until now. He felt her hot panting breath on his face, saw her flushed cheeks. She got his trousers open. Her hot hand on him.
“Oh, Jesus,” she said, squeezing him, and she slid down his body, running her hands over his shirt.
“Listen, Meredith.”
`Just let me,” she said hoarsely. `Just for a minute.” And then her mouth was on him. She was always good at this. Images flooding back to him. The way she liked to do it in dangerous places. While he was driving on the freeway. In the men’s room at a sales conference. On the beach at Napili at night. The secret impulsive nature, the secret heat. When he was first introduced to her, the exec at ConTech had said, She one of the great cocksuckers.
Feeling her mouth on him, feeling his back arch as the tension ran through his body, he had the uneasy sense of pleasure and danger at once. So much had happened during the day, so many changes, everything was so sudden. He felt dominated, controlled, and at risk. He had the feeling as he lay on his back that he was somehow agreeing to a situation that he did not understand fully, that was not fully recognized. There would be trouble later. He did not want to go to Malaysia with her. He did not want an affair with his boss. He did not even want a one-night stand. Because what always happened was that people found out, gossip at the water cooler, meaningful looks in the hallway. And sooner or later the spouses found out. It always happened. Slammed doors, divorce lawyers, child custody.
And he didn’t want any of that. His life was arranged now, he had things in place. He had commitments. This woman from his past understood none of that. She was free. He was not. He shifted his body.
“Meredith-”
“God, you taste good.”
“Meredith”
She reached up, and pressed her fingers over his lips. “Ssshhh. I know you like it.”
“I do like it,” he said, “but I-”
“Then let me.”
As she sucked him, she was unbuttoning his shirt, pinching his nipples. He looked down and saw her straddling his legs, her head bent over him. Her blouse was open. Her breasts swung free. She reached up, took his hands, and pulled them down, placing them on her breasts.
She still had perfect breasts, the nipples hard under his touch. She moaned. Her body squirming as she straddled him. He felt her warmth. He began to hear a buzzing in his ears, a suffusing intoxicated flush in his face as sounds went dull, the room seemed distant, and there was nothing but this woman and her body and his desire for her.