Thursday, November 19, 2009

No matter how long it’s been, the routine of preparation for a date is familiar as are the feelings of changing to my alter ego. The dress on the bed, Proenza Schouler from a few seasons ago, my shoes, sling backs on the floor next to my dressing table where I sit staring into the mirror applying my make-up with my stockings draped over the back of the chair.

What’s new is that I have a witness, Wags sitting, patiently watching for a clue as to what will happen next. He knows I’m going out, but not whether he’ll be coming. When he’s sure that he is coming, he sits by the door usually having pulled the leash off the door knob. When he isn’t coming, he’ll go to one of his pillows and sulk. If he’s not sure he sits and watches me waiting for a clue. I glance over at him and smile as his tail sweeps the floor behind him. Not tonight my little friend, I say to him as I turn reaching for the stocking. I roll one on and then the next, stretching out my legs and pointing my toes to touch the tip of his nose; a game that at times results in ruined hose, then I attach the snaps, leaving the adjustment of the ribbon till I stand.

But I told Wags that he’d be staying with Jink, saying the name with emphasis. Jink’s is a neighbor’s dog and we pet sit for each other if we plan to be out late. Hearing the familiar name Wag’s leans his head over, his ears perked up and tail beating faster. And then a run for the door where lets loose his bark/howl and then lies down and waits sniffing at the valise that holds my morning escape kit.

The possibility of my lives intersecting is something that I’ve known, but I was still surprised when it happened this morning. At a breakfast planning meeting I was introduced to my client’s client, who turned out to be, hmmm a past client. He recognized me, which I knew and with the ritual exchange of business cards he knew more about me than he did before. A few hours later he called, would I be available to see him, he asked, having decided that I would if called, I told him yes. A bit of small talk and then confirmation of the arrangements; “Would you prefer a wire,” I asked, knowing that he would. A time and a meeting place, the lounge of his hotel, he’d surprise me with a restaurant.

He was staying at the George V, so there would be no surprises good or bad, just extreme competence, from the taxi I called to let him know that I was on my way and he confirmed that we’d meet in Le Bar. Le Bar is a nice spot all marble topped tables and mahogany, but the most uncomfortable seating. He was waiting when I arrived greeting me with a kiss. A server appeared and asked if he could take my coat and the client confirmed that the valise was my overnight bag before asking that it be delivered to his room. We had a drink and he told me that we’d be having dinner at Dessirier on place du Maréchal Juin. Now my evening was set, delectable oysters followed by cock worship and at some point the subject of pile driving sex. Fortunately my client is modestly endowed so the violence was confined to his abdomen slamming into my butt.

In the morning he asked that I stay and breakfast with him in the room, as we talked he mentioned traveling to Dubai in January and asked if I could accompany him. Dubai is on my list of places that I’d like to go, to visit, but mostly to seek business contacts. I demurred explaining that I really couldn’t take that much time away. He countered by suggesting that I not join him for the complete trip but for a few days. I agreed to think about it.



Anonymous VJ said...

I was thinking at first that this might have been a bit out of sequence, but then I re-read it and now I think perhaps not. I hope & suppose there's not too much additional risk of exposure in all of this, (what with Belle on all our minds), but still. Seems possibly rash, but who knows? Perhaps there was no simple alternative & it was still a much needed interesting diversion. I hope all goes well. Cheers & Good Luck, 'VJ'

7:52 AM  

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