Part XV

I found Emily at the coffee machine in the kitchenette. “So, how was your weekend?” she asked.

“Very nice. I’m guessing yours was good, too?”

A contented smile stretched languorously across her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Lunch?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Sarah. I’ve really got a lot of work to do today.”

“The hell you have!”

“Well, maybe I could spare a half hour,” she drawled.

“Don’t be a bitch, Em.”

She found the milk in the small refrigerator and poured a bit into her coffee. “You’ve never taken a leg-pulling very well, girlfriend. Of course, we’re having lunch! A full hour at least.”

“Tell me one thing?”

“Maybe. What?”

“Whose place did you go to?”

“Mine, of course. Jon said we’ll go to his place next weekend, after he’s had a chance to catch up on his housework.”

“Hot damn!”

“I’m so glad I invited myself along on Friday. I wouldn’t have met him otherwise, or else I’d have met him after he’d been snagged by someone else.”

“He’s free and unattached, then?”

Emily nodded and raised her hand for a high-five.

I returned it with a flat-palmed smack. “Tell me more at lunch?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she replied. “See you later.”

I waved at her and headed down the hall to my cubicle.

***

The usual nonsense awaited me, plus the bit of work I hadn’t finished before my early departure on Friday. Telephone calls, paperwork, a bit of research, and it was noon before I knew it. Emily appeared at the side of my desk right on time. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, in a minute.” I logged off from my computer and picked up my purse. When I stood up, Emily surveyed me with a critical eye and shook her head.

“Wow, you’re a rumpled mess today! What happened?”

“I was man-handled by a certain Irish guitarist on my way out this morning.”

“Impressive,” she remarked. “If a man put that many wrinkles in my suit I doubt I’d be in the office to tell the tale. Better not wear linen around him anymore.”

I ran my hand over my skirt yet again, vainly attempting to brush away the creases.

“Oh, don’t bother with that, Sarah. Let’s just go and get something to eat. I’m starved!”

“I’m not, but I’ll keep you company.”

“Full Irish breakfast again, eh?”

“He wouldn’t let me get out the door without it.”

“If I had a man who cooked like that, you’d have to spray-paint me silver and stencil ‘Good Year’ down the side.”

“Oh, honestly, Em!” I said, laughing.

We left the building and walked down the street to our usual haunt and were surprised to find we’d arrived just ahead of the rush. Once comfortably settled in the booth, we placed our orders. Emily got her usual salad with grilled salmon and a glass of iced tea, while I chose minestrone and white wine.

“So,” I said, once we were alone and waiting for the food and drink to arrive.

“So,” she echoed, propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her hand.

“He’s unattached, yes?”

“Not anymore. We’ve decided to keep seeing each other.”

“He’s nice?”

“More than nice. He’s brilliant, good-looking, sweet, and a real fireball. Remember how he handled that monster accordion on Friday night?”

“Yeah.”

Emily smiled. “Let’s just say he still had plenty of that sort of energy later, even after a few beers and playing music for three hours.”

“Oh, my! Really?”

She nodded. “Simply divine, my dear, and after I’d been led to believe that Ronan didn’t have a friend for me!”

“Liam,” I reminded her.

“Sorry. Liam. Anyway, I’m most grateful for his assistance. Tell him, will you?”

“Sure. So, what’s he like?”

“Sarah!”

“I didn’t mean that, Em. I meant, is he interesting? Funny? A nerd?”

“Kind of all of the above, and then some, but I have to confess that I do feel a bit like I’m robbing the cradle.”

“Why, is he younger than you?”

“Thirty-two,” she replied.

“Yowza! He doesn’t look it.”

“Well, he had a heavy shadow on Friday night, but once he’s shaved, he’s got a real baby face. Very endearing!” Emily leaned back as the waitress appeared with the food and set it down on the table. “Thanks,” she said. “And we had drinks coming, too. White wine and iced tea?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be right back with that.”

We started eating and didn’t speak until the waitress had come and gone. Then I picked up my wine glass and took a sip. “Em, I’m really surprised at you, going for a younger fella.”

“Well, like I said, at first I didn’t know he was that young. And believe it or not, he seems more mature than a lot of the single guys in our age bracket.”

“If you say so,” I said, shrugging. “I hope it turns out to be true.”

“I don’t think I have a thing to worry about.”

We ate in silence for a bit, until a man’s voice intruded. “Em? Is that you?”

Her face lit up as she traced the voice to its source. “Jon?”

“What a coincidence!” he exclaimed, sounding pleased. “And Sarah, too! I had no idea you ladies liked to eat here. If I’d known, I’d have left my workmates behind for sure.”

“Well, sit for a minute, anyway,” Emily insisted, and pulled him into the booth beside her.

“Only for a minute,” he told her. “I’ve just got a half hour for lunch today, and if my soup’s not at the table now, it will be in a minute. Besides, we do still have a date later, don’t we, Em?”

She nodded. “I just wanted a quick fix.”

He grinned appealingly and leaned over to plant a quick kiss on her lips, then pulled away and stood up. “Hey, we should plan to do this someday,” he said to me. “Get Liam to come over, and we can all have lunch together, since he doesn’t seem to like bars much.”

“It’s hard to enjoy that atmosphere when you don’t drink or smoke,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, the smoke’s a bit of a drag, no pun intended. Every now and then, there’s talk of outlawing it in public places, but I think it’ll be a few years yet before we actually see that happen. Won’t it be nice someday, to go to a club and not come out reeking of stale cigarettes? Well, ladies, pardon me for being abrupt, but if I don’t go, I’m not getting my lunch. Later, Em.”

“Later,” she echoed, and when he had gone, she sighed like a lovelorn schoolgirl.

“Head over heels, Em?”

“Forget the somersaults,” she advisd, “and just cut to the fucking cartwheels.”

I laughed softly. “God, Em, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Neither did I. Oh, if only it could last!”

“You don’t think it could?”

“It’s a nice idea, but—” She sounded wistful.

“Stranger things have been known to happen. Georgia and Alfred—”

“Oh, thanks a lot, Sarah! I’m not that much older than Jon!”

“I know. Look, I’m just saying that people with much greater age differences have had successful long-term relationships. Keep an open mind. You may be pleasantly surprised.”

“I hope so,” she said, as she speared a cherry tomato with her fork. “God, I hope so!”

***

Ronan was waiting with bated breath when I got home. “Well?” he prompted.

“Her place,” I told him. “Jon said he’s got to clean his place before he’ll take her there, but that’s the plan for this weekend, I guess.”

“Woo-hoo!” Ronan crowed gleefully. “I knew it!” He closed the door behind me and bulldozed me into the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know.

“Och, just picking up where we left off this morning,” he replied, grinning as one hand pushed my skirt up just enough to allow the other one to roam. “Holy shite!” he exclaimed, hand freezing in mid-grope as he discovered the surprise I’d planned.

Before leaving work, I’d taken my panties off and stowed them in my purse, so all I had under the skirt were my satin garter belt and stockings, and the smoldering desire Ronan had awakened before I left the house in the morning.

He unfastened the buttons on the fly of his jeans, and everything happened very fast after that. I’d never made love against a wall before, and was surprised to find that I liked it, awkward a position as it was. Maybe I could make it a little easier…

I pushed him back a bit, then leapt up and wrapped my legs around him, and held on for dear life as we made a much more agreeable union.

Our intercourse was intense and swift, and took just a few strokes until we were both lauging and crying and kissing, his hands supporting my backside as I let my shaking legs slide back down to the floor. Somewhere deep inside me, a pulse still beat, slower and slower, receding as the ocean ebbs away from the shore.

“So,” I said, coolly businesslike once I’d caught my breath, “how was your day?”

Ronan laughed and kissed me again, and then he was standing before me, hands busily re-arranging his clothes and personal anatomy. “Er—’twas all business as usual, until this very sexy woman walked through the front door and took me by surprise.”

“And did you like that, being taken by surprise?”

He blushed. “Well, yeah. What man wouldn’t?” Then his face went two shades pinker. “Good God, Sarah! I can’t believe you walked all the way home without your knickers on!”

“No one would know that unless they looked up my skirt, and I wasn’t planning on anyone but you doing that. Ro, the look on your face was priceless!”

“Yes, I expect it was. I still can’t believe—” he shook his head. “Come, here’s dinner, and I—”

“Bought it yourself?”

He nodded. “Thai noodles with shrimp. Does that suit you?”

“Yes. That’s nice and light, and suits me very well.”

“Good.” He walked me to the dining room and pulled my chair out for me. There were candles flickering on the table, and the food had been placed in covered dishes. A pot of tea sat steeping under a quilted cosy.

“You aren’t going to Sean’s tonight?”

“No. He had therapy and a doctor’s appointment today, and figured he’d be too tired to get much done. We’ll start fresh in the morning.”

“Good. You guys have been working so hard. There’s no harm in taking a break now and then.”

“Not too much of break, though. We’d not want to lose our momentum.”

“No, I suppose not.” I picked up the nearest casserole dish and lifted the lid to scoop out some noodles. Then I took the second one and added shrimp and vegetables.

“Don’t forget the lime and peanuts,” Ronan reminded me, and nudged a sectioned dish across the table.

I picked up a wedge of lime and squeezed it over the food, then added a generous helping of chopped peanuts and sent the dish back to Ronan.

We ate quietly for awhile, and then Ronan reached for the tea and poured himself a cup. “So, are Emily and Jon an item, or was it a one-night stand?”

“Oh, they’re an item, all right, at least for the moment. Do you know how old he is?”

Ronan shrugged. “Dunno. Forty-ish, maybe?”

“Wrong, dearie. He’s thirty-two.”

“What?” Ronan’s voice squeaked in surprise.

“Thirty-two.”

“And Emily is—”

“Forty-seven.”

Ronan choked on his tea.

“We happened to run into him at lunch today. Apparently, he frequents the same restaurant.”

“And?”

I touched the tabletop and made a sizzling noise, and pulled my finger back as if I’d been burned.

Ronan’s eyebrows shot up, and he chuckled. “Well, at least they’re both consenting adults, and you know what they say about older women and younger men.”

“Oh, yeah. And—don’t tell her I said so, but—Emily hasn’t been with a guy in a long time, and she’s hot to trot. I hope Jon’s up to the challenge.”

“Well, it’s their business, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, though I expect I’ll get TMI over the next few weeks.”

“Too much information,” he remembered. “Yes. I’m glad I’m not as close a friend to Jon as you are to Emily. The two of you talk like a couple of guttersnipes once you have a few glasses of wine under your belts.”

“Oh, Ronan! No, we don’t.”

He smiled sweetly and cleared his throat. “Oh, my God, it’s better than sex!” he squawked, in a rusty falsetto.

“You know that was a joke,” I chided. “I even showed you the program to prove it.”

“Aye, and it was funny as hell, but rather brazen of Emily to let fly with a comment like that when we barely knew each other.”

“I think it was intentional. She wanted to gauge your reaction.”

“And did I please her?”

"I think so. She certainly isn’t acting suspicious anymore.”

“Good, not that I give a pin for her approval. I’d love you no matter what she said or how she acted, though I suppose it does make things easier if she likes me.”

“I’m pretty sure she does.”

He smiled. “Now, what I’m wondering is if Jon’s going to make it to the next seisiún or not.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait ’til next week to find out.”

“Guess so.” Ronan got up and started to clear the table. “’Tis a nice night,” he observed. “Do you fancy a walk?”

I nodded.

“Right, then. I’ll finish clearing up while you go and—er—” He chortled wickedly. “Put your knickers back on.”

“Póg mo thóin!” I retorted, flipping up my middle finger.

“Och, so you’ve finally learnt some Irish! Pity it’s more gutter talk, and not words of love. Cuisle mo chroi, you’ve cut me to the quick!” he mourned, laying a hand over his heart.

“You’re full of it,” I said, and threw him a kiss.

He grinned. “Just do as you’re told and get your knickers on, bean, or I’ll not be held accountable for the actions of me bod.”

“Promises, promises!” I taunted, unbuttoning my blouse to flash him.

He pushed up his sleeves, gave a predatory growl, and lightly ran down the hall after me.

We never did get outside for our walk.

***

C.P. Warner
© 4 August 2007

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