The Temp

He had gone through a bitter divorce and custody battle.  His ex-wife had their two daughters.  He saw them over the summer and Christmas holidays.  They always had fun when they were together.  He took them wherever they wanted.  The time they spent together always seemed to pass really quickly and it was hard parting from them.  They called him over the weekend and talked to him about school, their friends, etc.  Ava was eight and Olivia was six.  They meant the world to him.  It was too bad that things had ended up the way they did between their mother and him.

His happy marriage gone bad had left a very bitter taste in his mouth and as a result he had sworn off relationships.  He buried himself in his work.  Occasionally, he would take trips, hang out with friends and attend family functions.  He worked out at the gym, played tennis, jogged, read and went for walks on the beach.  And he has his faith to sustain him.  His church family had helped him during those rough moments following the divorce.  His life was as he wanted it–simple, that is until Amelia Johnson walked into it.

Amelia was hired to fill Susanna’s position.  Susanna was on maternity leave.  Amelia came from Alpha North Group Ltd with excellent qualifications and references from previous assignments.  He remembered the first time he saw her as if it were yesterday.   When they were introduced, he tried not to stare but her fresh beauty took his breath away.  Her braids which framed her face, tumbled down past her shoulders.  The red top she wore over the black skirt accentuated her complexion.  She was petite and slender.  He towered over her.  When she looked up at him with those big brown eyes and smiled at him, he felt his heart melt.  He knew he was in trouble then.  Their handshake was brief but long after he had released her hand, he could still feel its warmth and softness.

During the 18 months she was with them he tried to keep his growing attraction hidden under the veneer of professionalism.  No one had a clue that every morning he would look out of his office window overlooking the street below to watch her walking up the sidewalk.  He was tied up in knots.  He didn’t want to become emotionally involved again because of the pain he had experienced with his ex but the more he fought against his feelings for Amelia, the stronger they seemed to grow.  It was a battle that he was losing.

He had no idea of how she felt about him.  She was as pleasant to him as she was with the rest of the staff.  There was no indication that his attraction for her was reciprocated.  And for all he knew, she might already be in a relationship.  The thought stung but he had to be prepared for that possibility.  How was he going to find out whether or not she had a boyfriend?

He sat at his desk now in deep thought, wondering what to do.  This was Amelia’s last week with the company.  Susanna was back on Monday.  He had to do something before Amelia went out of his life forever.  He’d prayed about it all of last week and had gotten his answer last night.  He reached for the phone, hesitating for a brief moment before he dialed her extension.  His heart was thudding heavily against his ribs.  When she answered, he kept it short, “I need to see you.”  He leaned back in the chair after hanging up the phone and waited.  His anxious gaze was on the door which would open any minute now and Amelia would walk in.  There was no turning back now.

After she hung up the phone, Amelia stared at it for a moment.  Mark wanted to see her.  Why?  She was nervous about being alone with him.  What if she couldn’t hide her feelings for him?  It was one thing to act professional around him when others were around but quite another when they were alone.  Slowly, she pushed her chair back and got up, her legs feeling like jelly.  She smoothed her trembling and sweaty palms over her skirt and headed for his office.

She knocked on the door and heard him say, “Come in.”  Her heart was beating so fast and she couldn’t seem to control her breathing.  I must remain calm, she told herself as she opened the door and went inside.  He was standing behind his desk.  Her eyes traveled over his tall figure as she closed the door behind her.   She walked over to him and stopped in front of the desk.   She clasped her hands tightly in front of her so that he wouldn’t notice that they were trembling.  “You needed to see me,” she said.

He cleared his throat.  “Yes.  This is your last week with us.”

She lowered her eyes so that he wouldn’t see the sadness in them.  “Yes, it is.”  She had dreaded this moment.  She liked working here and the people but most of all, she hated the thought of leaving him.  He was the reason why she enjoyed coming in to work.

“I hope you have been happy here, Amelia. We were very fortunate to have you.”

She looked up.  “Yes, I have been very happy here.  Everyone has been so great.”

“We are sorry to lose you.  You will be missed.”

“I am going to miss all of you.”

There was a pregnant pause during which they stared at each other, each not knowing what to say next or how to act.  “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked suddenly.

She blinked in surprise.  She hadn’t expected that.  She shook her head at once.  “No.”

He looked relieved.  “Good to hear,” he said, coming around the desk to stand close to her.  “Amelia, I’m divorced and have two daughters.  I had sworn off relationships until I met you.  You walked into my life and turned it upside down.  For the longest time I have tried really hard to fight my feelings for you but it’s no use.”

Her eyes grew wide.  “Your feelings?”

“Yes.  I’m in love with you, Amelia and I wanted to tell you that before you walk out of my life for good.  Do you have any feelings for me?”  He braced himself for her answer, his face pale.

She nodded, her heart was in her eyes.  “Yes, Mark,” she cried.  “I’m in love with you too.  I tried so hard not to show it because it never dawned on me that you felt the same way.”

Mark pulled her into his arms and kissed her.  When he drew back, they were both breathing hard.  “I’m thankful that your assignment here is ending this week.  It was the thought of never seeing you again and encouragement from God which compelled me to tell you how I feel.”

She smiled.  “I’m very thankful that what I believed to be the saddest day of my life has turned into the happiest.”

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Sue’s Customers

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To passersby, it appeared to be a regular shop but its innocuous façade concealed something far more disreputable. Men lingered at the display of slippers at the front until the owner went out, talked to them and then invited them inside. Once inside, these “customers” were shown into another room where Sue was. Like an automaton, she got undressed and lay down.

Orphaned at twelve, she was taken in by her uncle who was kind to her, unlike her aunt. When he died five years later, her aunt kicked her out of the house, telling her to stop freeloading and find work. Sue found odd jobs here and there but the money wasn’t enough. Then, she came to this shop and begged for a job. She got one all right but it wasn’t selling slippers.

The owner was arguing with one of the “customers”. This was her opportunity. Slowly she backed away and then bolted. She ran to a nearby shelter. Shortly after, the shop went out of business and the owner was arrested.

174 Words

This was written for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy. For more information visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Asya Speaks Out

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Photo by Sue Vincent

The magnificent view of the snow-capped mountains and surrounding beautiful landscape which usually filled Asya with peace failed to do so this morning.   There was political uncertainty in Sweden as the anti-immigrant party made historic gains in Sunday’s election.  There was talk of refugees and immigrants being sent back to their countries by those who had no regard for what awaited them.   She knew firsthand what it was like to be torn from the country of refuge and returned to your country of origin.

At the age of 15, her parents took her back to Turkey after she finished ninth grade to marry a man 20 years her senior.  They had three children.  Those were the worst years of her life and she dreamed of returning to Sweden.  Fifteen years later, after her husband died in a work related accident, she returned to Stockholm with the children.

It was a shock for her when she recently saw the brochure offering tips to those who were married to children.  Enraged, she wrote an article on the horrors of child marriage, her own experience and why Sweden needed to be very clear that it wouldn’t tolerate such a practice.  It needed to protect the welfare of its immigrant population and stop worrying about being culturally insensitive.

It was a two page article in which she concluded, “I urge you to think about Beeta, the teenage girl who was murdered by her husband after they arrived here from Iran.  If we hadn’t been so concerned with offending a culture which fosters a practice which, in my opinion, is criminal, she may still be alive.  Instead of being concerned with the culture, protect the individual.  We need to be more responsible for the immigrants whom we let into the country and afford them the same rights and protection regardless of whether or not they are ethically Swedish.”  Her article was published in Stockholm News and was very well received.  Many shared her views and Twitter went viral, calling for the government to do something to end child marriage in a country known for its commitment to child welfare.

Asya turned now to look at the shelter she ran for victims of honor-based violence and oppression.  Most of them were the same ages as her daughters.  She determined that she would continue to fight for them and those who weren’t in her care.  Unlike the politicians and the government, she was going to be morally sensitive to the victims of forced marriages and speak out because as long as child marriage exists it will stand in the way of gender equality.  She had to do this for Beeta and others like her.

Marriage is for adults, not for children.  Children have the right to be children.

This story is based on true events.  Sweden struggles over child marriage and many are calling for the rights of children of foreign backgrounds to be protected.

This story is in response to the Thursday Photo Prompt – Turning for Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Sources:  The Guardian; PsychologyPolitico; Express

The Dinner

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It was Monday morning and Lillian was still feeling tired from a very busy weekend.  Before going to the office, she stopped at Tim Horton’s for a coffee.  She grabbed one for Kabir as well.  He was on a conference call so she quietly popped into his office, set the coffee down on his desk and left.

As usual, he looked really good in his suit.  Easy girl.  He’s your boss, remember?  That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate what a fine looking man he is.

She sat down at her desk, switched on her laptop and took a couple of sips of the hot coffee.  It hit the right spot.  She logged on to and began to check her emails.  Just then her cell rang.  She quickly answered it.  It was Neil.

“So you make it into work okay.”

“Yes.  I was dozing on the train, though and almost missed my stop.  How about you?”

“I’m off this week.”

“Lucky you.”

“Say, if you’re not doing anything later, maybe we can hook up and take in a movie or something.”

“Sorry, Neil but I’m not in the mood to go anywhere.  It’s going to be an early night for me.”

“Some other time then.”

I doubt it.  You’re a nice guy but I’m just not into you.  “Gotta go, Neil.  Have  good day.”

“Thanks.  You too, Lil.”

She ended the call just as Kabir stepped out of his office.  He stood by her desk, coffee in hand, watching her.  “Sorry, I’ll turn it off,”  she said.

He waved her apology aside.  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.  “Thanks for the coffee.”

She smiled.  “You’re welcome.”

“Did you have a good weekend?”

She nodded.  “I did but it was a crazy busy one.  I had to drag myself out of bed this morning.  This coffee is a lifesaver.  How about you?”

“Well, my weekend wasn’t as exciting as yours.  My parents are visiting from Florida.  They’re staying with my sister and her family.”

“Oh yes, you mentioned on Friday that they were coming.  When did they arrive?”

“On Friday evening.”

“How long are they going to be here for?”

“Two weeks.”

“Is this their first visit to Toronto?”

“No, they’ve been here before.  Although they like Toronto, they prefer Miami where it’s always warm.”

“I know the winters here could be brutal sometimes.”

“Are you busy tomorrow evening?” he asked suddenly, startling her.

She shook her head.  “No.”  Did he want her to work late?

“I’m taking my parents out for dinner and was wondering if you would like to join us?”

It took a moment before she said, “Sure.”

He smiled.  “Good.  Well, I’d better get back to work.  Thanks again for the coffee.”

After he walked away, she sat there, daydreaming.  He had asked her to have dinner with him–well, with his parents and him but that was still something, wasn’t it?

Dinner turned out to be a very enjoyable affair.  She liked his parents, especially his father who made her laugh so much that tears were coming out of her eyes.  His mother was more serious and very direct.  Several times Lillian caught her looking at her as if trying to size her up.  It was clear that Kabir was the apple of her eye and like most mothers with their sons, she was protective.  Any woman who wanted to be with him had to win her approval.  Was it obvious to her that Lillian was in love with her son?  It seemed like women picked up on these things easily.

“So, Kabir mentioned that you’ve been working with him for five years.  Is he a good boss?”

Lillian nodded.  “Yes, he is.”

“He isn’t working you too hard, is he?”

Lillian shook her head.  “No.  He’s a very fair boss.  I enjoy working with him.”

“Good.  And what about your family?  Are they here in Toronto?”

“My parents live in Kingston, Jamaica while my brother lives in Vancouver with his family.”

“Are you close to your family?”

“Yes, we’re very close.  We keep in touch every day and see each other in the summer and for Christmas.”

“Good.  Family is very important.  We’re a close family too.”

Just then Kabir’s Dad needed to go to the washroom and Kabir went with him.  Alone with his mother, Lillian felt a bit nervous, wondering what else she was going to ask her.  “Kabir mentioned that you’ve been to Toronto once before.”

“Yes.  We visited six years ago.  It’s a very nice city but the winters are too cold.  That’s why everyone comes to Miami for Christmas.  The cold is bad for the husband’s knees, you know.”

“It’s the same with my mother.  That’s why she doesn’t want to live here.”

“Kabir has told us so much about you.”

Lillian looked at her in surprise.  “He has?”

“Yes.  Every time we talk to him, he mentions you.  He wanted us to meet you the next time we came to Toronto.

Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Good, because Kabir doesn’t have a girlfriend.  He probably won’t appreciate me telling you this but he likes you.  What about you, do you like him?”

“Yes, I like him too.”

“Then, I think it’s time that the two of you started dating.”

Before Lillian could answer, the men were back.  Kabir looked at his mother first and then at her.  And the way he looked at her made her pulse quicken.  For the remainder of the evening they stole glances at each other and after he dropped his parents off, he asked her as they were driving to her place, “Did my mother say something to you?”

“Well, she said that you like me.”

“She’s right, Lillian.  I do.  I like you very much.”

“And I–I like you very much too.”

He looked at her as they waited at a traffic light.  “So, you wouldn’t have a problem going out with me, then?”

She shook her head.  “No.”

He smiled.  “Good.”

For their first date, they did something unconventional but fun–they played board games at board games at Snakes and Lattes.  For the second date they enjoyed a twilight picnic at Casa Loma.  The next time Lillian saw Kabir’s parents it was in December when they flew to Miami for the Christmas holidays.  They were engaged.

Chantrea’s Crusade

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“Thanks for doing this interview, Chantrea. It can’t be easy for you.” They were sitting by the lake just steps from the organization where the Cambodian woman worked as a social worker.

Chantrea smiled slightly. She had sad eyes and although she was in her late thirties, she looked much older which wasn’t surprising, considering the kind of life she once had. “I don’t want to do what’s easy for me,” she said. “I will do whatever is necessary to help the children.”

“What’s your story?”

“I was eleven when my father put me in an orphanage because they promised him that I would receive a good education and opportunities for the future. Instead, I was beaten, raped, starved and forced to work on the orphanage director’s rice paddies and farms without pay.

“And now you’ve dedicated your life to fighting such institutions.”

“Yes. I’m fighting to prevent the separation of vulnerable children from their families and orphanages that attract funding, volunteers and donations from well-meaning tourists.”

“What’s your biggest goal?”

“Shutting down these orphanages.”

 

175 Words

This story is inspired by true stories of children who are taken from their families and homes and placed in orphanages “where they may be exploited, even abused, malnourished, forced to work, and sometimes trafficked to other orphanages and forms of exploitation in order to repeat the cycle and elicit further funding.”

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy. For more information visit Here.  If you would like to read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Sources:  Freedom United; Cambodian Children’s Trust

The Letters

Her eyes went straight to the desk where she expected to see it and there it was.  Heart thudding, she walked into the classroom and picking it up, she examined it.  It was the same long, plain white envelope with her name written neatly on the front.  She got one every Thursday since the beginning of the semester and found herself looking forward to receiving them.  They were beautiful, heartfelt and honest outpouring of his feelings and she longed to find out who was writing them.

The mystery person was obviously a student who attended her Tuesday and Thursday classes.  She taught on Mondays and Wednesdays as well and had Fridays off.  He got there early so that no one would see him leave the envelope on her desk.  Perhaps this letter will give her more clues.  She put the envelope in her handbag, promising herself to read it as soon as she got a chance.

As she got ready for the class to begin, her gaze swept over the faces of the young men in the room while in her mind she asked the question, Is it you?  She knew which one of them she wanted her mystery man to be.  Her eyes shifted to him and caught him watching her.  He blinked and blushed before he looked away. Clive Bennington.  He sat in the front row.

The first time he walked into the classroom, she noticed him.  In all of her years of teaching never once did she ever notice a student until that moment.  He was tall and athletic.  Well dressed, he had the word preppy written all over him.  The combination of sensuality and studiousness added to his appeal.  It wasn’t long before she became strongly attracted to him.

She was careful to hide her feelings because if she were suspected of having a romantic interest in a student, her job could be in jeopardy.  Outside of the university and in her private time, she permitted herself to daydream about him and when she started getting the letters, she wished that they were from him.  She kept them in her bureau and read them every night before she went to bed.

Presently, she schooled herself to concentrate on teaching and the time went by very quickly.  As usual, he was the last to leave and as he was packing up, she went over him.  “I enjoyed your paper,” she said.  “You’re an excellent writer.  You have a remarkable way of expressing yourself.  Your writing is down to earth and engaging.  You should think of publishing some of your work.”  As she spoke to him about his writing, it dawned on her, not for the first time how much it reminded her of the penmanship of the letters.  It had to be him.

He looked shyly at her, his face a little flushed.  “Thank you, Professor Williams.”

She wanted to reach up and brush the lock of hair back from his forehead.  “You’re welcome, Clive.”  Would it be wrong for her to ask him to go with her for a cappuccino?  She decided that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.  Walking back to the desk, she gathered the papers together and put them in her folder.  “Good night, Clive.”

“Good night, Professor Williams.”  He grabbed his bag and after glancing at her, he walked out of the classroom.

After he was gone, she finished packing up and left.   Thirty minutes later she let herself into her flat.  Not bothering to fix something to eat, she took the letter from her handbag and headed straight over to the sofa, her heart beating fast with excitement.   Her hands trembled as she unfolded the sheets of paper.  Leaning against the soft cushions, she began to read.

Dear Rose,

This is the first time I have addressed you by your first name.  I hope you don’t mind.  Whenever I see a rose, I think about you.  To me you’re more beautiful.  I will always remember the first time I saw you.  It was during my second year at Oxford.  I was sitting outside with Samantha, my girlfriend, enjoying the weather when you walked by.  My heart stopped and I couldn’t stop staring at you.  You took my breath away.  I sat there, bewildered because I really believed that I loved Samantha and always thought she was the girl for me.  And yet, when I looked at you, it seemed as if time stood still and nothing and no one else existed.  In that instance, I felt like Romeo when he was at the ball.  First he couldn’t take his eyes off Rosaline but when Juliet appeared, Rosaline faded into obscurity.  All Romeo saw was the lovely maiden who had captured his attention and his heart.  For me you were Juliet and Samantha was Rosaline.

You didn’t notice me that day because you were talking to a student, giving her your undivided attention.  I found myself wishing I were that student but I knew that if you talked to me I would be tongue-tied and probably make a fool of myself.  I wanted to know your name, which course you taught so that I could be one of your students.  I watched as the girl walked away and then another student call out to you, “Professor Williams.” And you turned and smiled as he ran over to you.  I knew your last name. Behind me I heard Samantha say, “Clive, I have to be getting to class now.  I’ll see you later.”  She reached over and kissed me on the cheek before leaving me.  I sat there, watching you talk to the student and I made up my mind that I was going to find out more about you from him.  It felt as if I were sitting there for hours and then you left.  As soon as you were gone, I went over to the student and asked him, “I’ve never seen that professor before, is she new?”

He shook his head.  “No, that’s Professor Williams.  She’s been at Oxford for about ten years now.”

“What does she teach?”

“English Language and Literature.  She teaches 4th year students like me.”

“Is she a good teacher?”

“The best.  Make sure that when you do your enrollment for your last year, that you sign up for her class. Before I took her class, I wasn’t keen on writing but now I find that I like it very much.” After I thanked him for his time, I went to my class but I was hardly paying attention to a word Professor Ayers was saying.  All I could think about was you and how much I wanted to see you again.  I discovered that you were a creature of habit.  Every day, at a certain time of the day, you went to the library to read.  I made sure I was there when you were.  You didn’t notice me as I sat there with my books open on the table watching you and wishing that I had the courage to walk over there and introduce myself to you. 

For two years, I have watched and admired you from afar.  I am ashamed to say that I broke up with Samantha but didn’t admit the real reason.  I simply told her that I didn’t love her the way she wanted me to.  She was heartbroken.  I felt like a heel, especially when she transferred to another university. I never meant to hurt her but I couldn’t help that I had fallen in love you.  Many nights I lay awake whispering the words, I love you.  I sit in your class, longing for the day when I could say it to your face.  Yes, I took the student’s advice and signed up for your class and I am so happy that I did.  The first day I walked into your class and you smiled at me, I was on cloud nine.  When you first spoke to me, I couldn’t think straight.  I was so nervous and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hide my feelings.  Sometimes I noticed the way you looked at me and that encouraged me.  I started to believe that you were attracted to me too and that made my heart dance with joy.

I graduate in three weeks and I have mixed feelings.  I’m happy to be moving on to bigger things but at the same time, I will miss being in your class.  It has been the highlight of my whole university experience.  I look forward to seeing you every week and can’t wait for the weekends to end.  I am hoping that you will want to stay in touch with me.  I will even dare to say that I hope that you would be open to the idea of going out with me.  Nothing would make me happier than to be in a relationship with you.  My family will not approve for obvious reasons but when you’re in love, it doesn’t matter what others say or think.  On Tuesday, I will stay after class and ask you to go to the café with me.  I hope that you will say yes.

This is my last letter but before I close, I wanted to say that when I first saw you, I never imagined that I would fall so hard.  I dream about you, think about you and long to be with you every day.  My heart pounds when I see you and I get butterflies in my stomach when someone mentions your name.  Even if you don’t end up falling in love with me, I want you to know that I love you now and I will love you for the rest of my life.

Clive

Rose didn’t realize that she was crying until a teardrop fell on the page.   Finally, she knew who the mystery man was.  It was Clive.  This was the only letter he signed his name to.  In all the other letters, he simply wrote Anonymous.  This letter was by far the most precious one and after reading it a second time, she clutched it to her heart.  Clive loves me.  He wants to be in a relationship with me.  On Tuesday, I will let him know how I feel.

Tuesday came and all through class she thought of nothing else but going out with him.  As soon as they were alone, Clive went over to her as she was gathering the papers together and putting them in her briefcase.  She paused and looked up at him.  He looked so shy and unsure of himself that her heart melted.  Reaching for his hand, she said, “It’s a beautiful afternoon.  Let’s walk to the café.”

His heart was racing and he couldn’t think straight because she was holding his hand.  “Thank you,” was all he could manage to say and she smiled.

She finished packing up and then preceded him to the door.  They walked to the café and sat at a table in the corner.  They chatted for a while about different things including what his plans were after he graduated.   “I’m going to miss your letters,” she told him.  “I loved reading them.  I read them every night.”

“Really?” he asked, looking thrilled.  “I’m relieved to hear that.  I was afraid that I was being too forward but I couldn’t keep my feelings bottled up inside.”

“You were right about me,” she admitted.  “I was attracted to you the first time I saw you but I tried not to show it.  There were times when I couldn’t help looking at you.  I had to be careful that no one else noticed.  When I started getting the letters, I hoped that they were from you.”

“Does this mean that you will go out with me?” he asked, looking anxious.

She nodded.  “Yes, but we have to keep it on the quiet until you graduate.”

“All right,” he agreed, holding her hand, relishing the feel of it in his.  “We’ll do whatever you think is best just as long as we are together.”

“Are you free tomorrow evening?” she asked, unable to think with him caressing her hand.

“Yes,” he said. “I am.”  Even if he had another engagement, he would cancel it for her.

“How would you like to have dinner at my place?”

“I’d like that very much, Rose.”

“Come at six-thirty.   Let me give you my address.”  She had to extricate her hand from his in order to write down the information.

He took the folded piece of paper and put it in his wallet.  “I’m looking forward to dinner,” he told her.

“I’m afraid I have to leave now,” she said, sounding regretful.  “I have to attend my niece’s recital this evening.”  She finished her cappuccino and paid for both.

He was disappointed that they weren’t going to stay longer but at least he was going to see her tomorrow.  He stood up when she did and they left the café.  They walked back to the parking lot of the university.  When they beside her car, he wanted to kiss her but thought better of it.  Someone might see them.  “See you tomorrow,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” she replied, smiling up at him.  She got into her car and waved before she drove off.

He watched until her car disappeared from view before walking to his.  He couldn’t sleep that night.  All day in school, he thought about Rose and when it was time to go home, he scooted out of there.  Promptly at six-thirty he was outside of her flat.  She opened the door, smiling when she saw him.  “Good evening, Clive. Come in.”

“Good evening, Rose.”  He went in and turned quickly so that she couldn’t see what he was holding behind his back.  After she closed and locked the door, he produced a bouquet of orange roses.  “Roses for a Rose,” he said huskily.

“They are gorgeous,” she exclaimed.  She took them and put them on the table nearby.  “Thank you, Clive.”

Touched, she reached up and kissed him.  When she would have pulled back, his arms went around her waist and his eyes met hers in a passionate gaze before they dropped to her lips.  They darkened with desire when he saw hers part and then he was kissing her, feverishly, wildly.  All the pent up emotions came gushing out and she matched his kisses with the same intensity, her arms going around his neck as he pressed her against him.

Several minutes went by as they exchanged hungry kisses and then he released her to remove his jacket while still kissing her.  She moved her arms from around his neck to help him to pull the dress tee shirt off.  Then, she was backing him over to the hearth where a rug was spread.  They were lying on the rug, his hands were holding her face between his hands as he plundered her lips.  “I love you, Rose” he muttered thickly when she drew back to look at him and to catch her breath.  “Let me show you how much.” And then she was lying on her back, staring up into his flushed face.

“I love you too, Clive,” she whispered before she reached up and pulled his head down to hers.

They ended up having a late dinner and that night marked the beginning of a relationship which led to marriage.

 

 

 

 

Breaking the Mold

It was around noon and Rory Bentworth was walking and texting, not really looking where he was going.  He barely heard the words, “Watch out,” before he glanced up and narrowly missed walking straight into the woman who was carrying some books.  A couple of them fell on the ground along with his cell phone.

Apologizing profusely and feeling very embarrassed, he stooped down and picked up the books.  “You know you really ought to look where you’re going,” she said.

He looked up and found her standing over him, gazing down at him.  She didn’t look angry.  In fact, there was a slight smile on her face.  She was stunning.  The attraction was immediate for him.  He stared at her, tongue tied.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Rory.” He didn’t tell her that his last name was Bentworth because the inevitable question would have been, Are you by any chance related to Elizabeth Bentworth? The late Elizabeth Bentworth was the renowned mystery writer whose books were bestsellers, many of which were adapted to film.  And being Elizabeth Bentworth’s grandson meant that her only son, Arthur, once reputed to be London’s finest barrister, was his father.  He wanted this beautiful woman standing over him to be interested in him, not in his family connections.  He was determined to see her again.

“Rory, may I have my books, please?”  She held out her hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his face turning beet red, he handed her the books.  She took his breath away.

“Thanks.  Don’t forget your cell phone.”

He scooped it up and got to his feet.  He dropped it in his pocket, his eyes never leaving her face.  She was looking at him.  “What’s your name?” he asked.  His heart was racing.

“Kristen.”

“Is this where you work?” he asked indicating the building they were standing in front of.

She nodded.  “Yes.  What about you?  Do you work close by?”

He shook his head.  “No, I work about twenty minutes from here.  I was on my lunch break and heading back to the office when I literally bumped into you.”

“Well, I’d better go.”

“I see that you’re not married.  Are you seeing anyone?” He wasn’t usually this forward but he had to know if she was in a relationship.

She laughed.  “You’re not shy, are you?” she commented.  “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Nor am I.  Can I see you again?”

She studied him for a moment and then she said, “Come with me.”  She turned and walked towards the steps leading to the building where she worked.  He followed her, admiring her slim figure in the navy blue skirt suit and the long shapely calves in the black high heeled shoes.  Her hips swayed slightly as she walked.  They went through the revolving doors and up to the reception desk.  She set the books down on the counter and asked the guard on duty for a pen and paper.  When he handed them to her, she scribbled something down, folded the paper and gave it to Rory.  She picked up her books and smiled at him.  “It was nice meeting you, Rory,” she said.  “I’ll see you around.”  And then, she walked away.

He stared after her until she disappeared from his view and then, he opened the sheet of paper she had given him.  On it she had written her name and number and the words, I’m free for lunch tomorrow at twelve-thirty. I will meet you down here in the lobby. Grinning broadly, he folded it and put it in his wallet.  He couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.  On his way back to work, he stopped by a bake shop and bought a funnel cake which he finished eating by the time he reached the office.

The next day, he was in the lobby waiting anxiously for her.  He was nervous and excited at the same time.  He felt like a lovesick schoolboy.  He hoped he looked good in the charcoal grey suit, black shirt and matching tie.  When he saw her coming towards him, his heart began to race and his gaze eagerly travelled over her.  She was wearing a black skirt suit with a light blue shirt underneath.  Her hair was pulled back and she was wearing pearl earrings and a matching necklace.  She looked amazing.  She smiled at him now.  “Hello, Rory,” she said.  “You’re very punctual.  I like that.”  She was standing in front of him now and he towered over her even though she was wearing heels.

“Hello, Kristen.”  He wondered what she would say if she knew that all morning he had been looking at his watch, anxious for noon to come so that he could head over here.  Last night he thought of nothing else but seeing her again.  And here they were standing in the lobby of the building where she worked about to go for lunch.  “Where would you like to go for lunch?”

“There’s an Italian restaurant just ten minutes from here.  They serve the best pasta dishes.”

He knew the one she meant.  He had passed it several times but never went in.  “Sounds good.”

“Let’s go,” she said and preceded him to the revolving doors.  When they were outside, she put on her sunglasses which made her even more alluring.   It was a beautiful summer day.  The sun was shining and many people were milling about, simply enjoying the weather.  “So, how come a handsome guy like you doesn’t have a girlfriend?” She asked as they walked.

He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I guess I haven’t met anyone I liked until now.”

She glanced at him when he said that.  “And you like me?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you hardly know me.”

“You hardly know me but, we are having lunch together.”

Touché,” she said smiling.

“What about you?  How come you’re not in a relationship?”

“My work keeps me busy and the last relationship I had didn’t work out.  We wanted different things.  Besides, he hadn’t gotten over his ex.  The last I heard, they are back together.  I wish him well.  Here we are,” she added as they approached the restaurant.  “It’s not very crowded now.”

He held the door open for her and she went in, removing her sunglasses.  They chose a table by the window.  It was a nice, pleasant and bustling place.  Immediately, a waitress went over to their table with the menus and took their orders for drinks.  When she returned they gave her their orders.

“I know it must have been hard for you but I’m glad that things didn’t work out between him and you.  We wouldn’t be here together if they did.”

Kristen studied him.  He had such a gorgeous face and his hair.  It was so thick and unruly.  She wanted to reach over and ran her fingers through it.  She was extremely attracted to him but he looked young.  “How old are you?” she asked.

“Twenty-eight.”

“I’m older than you,” she informed him.  “I’m in my late thirties.”

“I guess this means you’ve never dated a younger man before.”

She shook her head.  “The men I’ve dated were either my age or older.  I never once considered dated a man younger than me.”

“What about now?” he asked, his expression serious as he looked at her.  “Would you consider it now?”

This guy didn’t waste any time going after what he wanted.  She found that very exhilarating.  “I might,” she said.  It flattered her that someone his age wanted to go out with her.  Their orders came then and they ate.  They talked about other things.  Thankfully, she didn’t ask him about his family and they didn’t talk about work.  There were other, more interesting topics they discussed and the time went so quickly—too quickly.  It was time to leave.  Reluctantly, they paid the bill and walked out into the sunshine.

“Have dinner with me tonight, Kristen,” he asked as they were standing in the lobby fifteen minutes later.

“I’m sorry but I can’t have dinner with you tonight,” she said.  “I have to work late but how about tomorrow night?”

“Yes, tomorrow night is fine.  I’ll pick you up at seven.”  He wanted so much to hold her hand but he didn’t want to rush things.

She wrote her address on the back of her business card and put it in the breast pocket of his jacket.  Their eyes met and held for several minutes before she said goodbye.  She turned and walked away.  Before she rounded the corner, she glanced back to find him still standing there, watching her.  She turned away, smiling.

Rory hurried from the building, excited.  When he got back to the office, he saw that his mother had called.  He dialed her number and he was connected to her right away.  “Hello, Mother. You called?”

“Yes, I called to let you know I have a speaking engagement this evening, so I wouldn’t be able to have you over for dinner tonight.”

He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to have dinner with her tonight.  He would have gone to dinner with Kristen if she hadn’t other plans and wouldn’t have remembered to call his mother to cancel his plans with her.  “We can do it another time,” he said.

“What about tomorrow night?”

“Sorry, Mother, but I have plans.” He hoped she wouldn’t ask any questions.

“Well, if there are with Isabella, I have no objections.  I will call you on Sunday.  Goodbye.”  She rung off and he hung up the phone.

Why was she always pushing Isabella Stanton on him?  Isabella was a nice girl, smart, easy going, not at all snobbish like her parents and older sister but he wasn’t attracted to her.  Why his mother would assume that his plans were with Isabella, he had no clue.  He had never given her any indication that he was the least bit interested in her friend’s daughter.  He wonder what his mother would do if she knew that Isabella was in love with a law clerk?  He knew exactly how she would react if she knew about his attraction for Kristen.  She would have a fit.  Kristen was older than him and of a lower social status.  She was a far cry from Isabella Stanton.

Yet, it was Kristen who stirred in him feelings he had never experienced before in his life.  She filled his thoughts and aroused fierce desires in him, making him yearn for her.  Whenever they were apart it was torture for him because the hours seemed to drag.  And when they were together the time went by so quickly.   And it seemed like he was waiting for weeks instead of hours for Saturday evening to come.  And when it finally did, he was standing outside of her flat at promptly seven.

He was dressed in a black suit, black shirt and no tie.  His hair which had a proclivity to be tousled in a very disarming way was slicked back, giving it a sleek look.  His brown eyes complimented his olive complexion.  Kristen couldn’t stop staring at him.  Her heart was racing, especially when she saw the way he was looking at her.  There was admiration in the depths of his eyes and something else.  It was the something else which made her senses tingle in excitement.  She was wearing a black figure hugging black dress with a V-neckline.  Her hair was swept back in an up hairdo.

“You look amazing,” he told her, his face riveted to her face as she gazed up at him.  He wanted to kiss her so badly.

“Shall we go?” she said, sounding a little breathless.  She knew that if they stayed there any longer, they would probably end up going inside her flat instead of going out for dinner.  No, she had to keep a cool head.

“Yes,” he muttered and stepped aside so that she would precede him to the lift.  How on earth was he going to get through dinner when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and…?  He had to keep a cool head.  This evening was another opportunity for them to get to know each other better and depending on how it went Kristen would determine whether or not she wanted to have a relationship with him.  He couldn’t afford to allow anything to ruin his chances with her.  He had to take it slow.

They went to a Cajun/Creaole restaurant where the food was excellent.   The atmosphere was warm and friendly.  Over tasty and spice dishes and mocktails, they laughed and talked.  She never had so much fun and she was still laughing when they walked through the lobby of her building.   “I had a really great time tonight,” she said as they stood in front her flat.  “Thank you.”

“I had a great time tonight too,” he said, his expression tense as he met her gaze.  He didn’t want to leave.

Kristen saw the look on his face and her heart ached.  He looked so forlorn.  She would be a fool to send him away now, especially when she desperately wanted him to stay.  She pushed open the door and grabbing his hand she pulled him inside the flat.  After slamming the door and locking it, she turned towards him.  Their eyes locked for several palpable minutes and then they came together like two magnets, drawn together by a force they were powerless to resist.  All of her reservations went out of the window as she gave into the passions that raged inside her.  As they exchanged feverish kisses, he removed his jacket.  In a matter of minutes, their clothes were strewn on the floor and they were on the rug in front of the sofa, making love.

After that night, they became involved.  It was his first serious relationship.  And he hoped, his last.  He knew without a doubt that Kristen was the one.  He fell in love with her that day when he ran into her.  Meeting her that day had turned his world upside down.  He couldn’t imagine his life without her.  It seemed to him that he had been waiting for her all of his life.   He knew his mother would have a problem with his relationship with Kristen but he had to follow his heart.  Right now, he was blissfully happy, lying on his back on the sofa with his head on her lap, his eyes closed as she played with his hair.

“You’re Amanda Bentworth’s son, aren’t you?” the question jolted him and he sat up, swinging so that his feet were on the rug so that he could face her.  She was watching him curiously.

“How long have you known?” he asked warily.

“Since this morning.  Heather, a co-worker, mentioned that she had gone to a luncheon where the guest speaker was Philanthropist and Women’s Rights advocate, Amanda Bentworth.  She showed me the brochure and said that it was a very well attended affair and that Mrs. Bentworth was a great speaker.  Then, Heather asked me if I had ever seen Mrs. Bentworth’s gorgeous son, Rory?  I didn’t recall ever seeing him so she brought up an image of your mother and you at your father’s funeral.  Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a Bentworth?”

“I wanted you to be interested in me not in my family name.  And I was afraid that if you knew who I was you wouldn’t want to see me.”

“I admit that finding out that you are from a famous family floored me but it doesn’t change anything.  To me, you’re simply Rory.”

He took her hands in his, his eyes searching her face.  “How do you feel about marrying a Bentworth?” he asked huskily.

She swallowed.  “No way in particular,” she said quietly.  “I’d marry you no matter what your name was.”

He raised his hands to cup her face between them, his eyes darkening on her face.  “I love you,” he muttered thickly.

She placed her hands on his thighs.  “I love you too.”

He reached over and kissed her.  “Marry me,” he murmured against her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered and then they were kissing.

They got married the following year in the spring.  At first, his mother was determined not to attend the wedding because she was still upset with him for falling in love with another woman when she had her heart set on him marrying Isabella.  However, when she learned of Isabella’s engagement to a law clerk, she decided that she would not have been a suitable match for Rory, after all.  And when she attended the wedding and saw how happy he was as he danced with his bride, her resentment gave way maternal pride when it dawned on her that Rory was the first Bentworth who had married for love.

 

office woman