Infinity(14)

I feel my face drop in despair. I shake my head back and forth. “No, baby. I had a period. Remember?”

“I know. I know,” he says, running his hand through his still wet hair. The overhead light catches his wedding ring, making it sparkle. “I just thought that I would ask.”



****



I pull into the CharCol Inc. office-building parking lot with five minutes to spare. I hope that the cologne people aren’t here yet. Maybe their plane is delayed. I could use the extra time with my husband. Images of him taking me quickly in his office have kept me bothered all day.

My dress-fitting earlier today was a disaster. Even though I’ve exercised like a fiend and counted every calorie, my new dress is now snug across my chest. I almost cried. Everyone promises that it will be fine for Wednesday.

The whole time that I stood there, while the designer’s assistant, seamstress, and Brad poked and prodded me, I just wanted my husband. Normally, I have a decent sex drive. Today, I almost feel manic for him. Quickie in his office? I hope so. I brought sports wipes in my purse just in case I get lucky. I was serious when I told him this morning that I don’t want to smell like sex for my appointment with Doctor Starr, but my mental images have made me not give a damn anymore.

Jenny greets me with a warm hello and we exchange pleasantries, although she never takes her eyes from her computer screen. Her office is what greets visitors when they walk through the doors of CharCol Inc. Today, her hair is a rather tame shade of strawberry-pink. She has on a baby-blue blouse, and yellow skinny jeans. Jenny, with her new hair color, looks like a My Little Pony commercial. “So, I hear you’re batting for the other team.”

“Stupid paparazzi,” I quip. “I greet my best friend at the airport with a big hug and kiss on the cheek, and now I’m cheating on Colin, the media’s golden boy, with Rachael. But I guess it could’ve been worse. The media could have assumed that she’s a child, ‘cause she’s so tiny, and called me a molester.” I shiver at the thought that the press gets it wrong so often.

“Yeah, Colin came in the other morning and threw the magazine on my desk. I believe his exact words were: ‘Frame this bitch. It’s hanging in my office.’” Finally, she looks away from the screen and rolls her eyes.

We both agree that men are pigs.

Jenny shows me into the conference room, which is already filled with the cologne company representatives, much to my dismay.

Colin rises to his feet and glides towards me with the grace of an athlete. He pulls me into a tight embrace, giving me a chaste kiss on the cheek. He announces to the room, “Everyone, this is Doctor Collins. She’s going to be sharing her expert opinion with me on the new scents.”

He then proceeds to introduce two men and three women, all with French names that I’ll never remember. Colin motions for me to take an empty chair next to him. I do, feeling rather uncomfortable because of the intense heat in my stomach. Being in his presence makes me want him even more if that’s possible. I lean in, attempting to wrap his aura around me. I can’t seem to keep my hands to myself, and reach under the table to touch his thigh. What’s wrong with me?

His eyes cut sideways as he gives me a questioning look. Colin and I are never overly affectionate in public, let alone at a business meeting. I get that my hand on his thigh is probably inappropriate, but it has a mind of its own, and refuses to be removed.

He mouths, You okay?

I dip my chin and look up at through my eyelashes. I love you, I mouth back.

He flashes me his half-smile, and I melt into a puddle right there in the CharCol Inc. conference room.

Before I can proposition him for a quickie in his office, Jenny gets his attention. They begin a quiet discussion amongst themselves, turning away from me. The cologne people speak in French to each other while I pull out my phone and pretend to be busy checking my email, feeling lost that his attention is no longer focused on me. There’s just junk and shopping offers. They remind me that I’m too fat for my dress I must wear in two days. I want to cry again.

Jenny excuses herself, leaving the conference room. Before I can make my move, Colin steps outside to return a phone call. I’m half tempted to follow him out and offer some sexual suggestions, but he’s standing in front of the conference room windows, pacing back and forth. He looks so hot in his dress slacks and linen button-up shirt. My mind races with thoughts about ripping the shirt off and watching the buttons fly across his office while I lick, bite, and mark his chest with my teeth. My impure thoughts make my face flush, and warmth floods my panties. I’ve got to get myself under control. Silently, I admonish myself. The perfume people will know exactly what we’re doing. Decorum overrides my sexual desires, and I slump deeper into the soft black leather chair, counting the seconds until I can get my husband home.