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Me:LOL. I guess not. Now, no extra-long visit to the Ladies’ during the day…
Her:I’ve never done that!
Me:Are you fibbing?
Her:Maybe. *blushes*
Me:Ahh that backfired. Now I’m imagining you sneaking off for some personal afternoon delight.
Her:Have you ever done it?
Me:Of course! So has every other guy in the world, I would think.
Her:Seriously? *fans self*
Me:We’re a rabid bunch, especially when we’re young. When I was a teenager I only had to sit on a bumpy bus to get a hard on.
Her:When have you ever been on a bus?!
Me:We used coaches to travel to rugby matches. There was so much testosterone around even the women teachers grew mustaches.
And so it continues through the week, with both of us checking in each morning to declare we’ve been good and abstained for yet another day.
I don’t know if she’s being honest, but I am, and it’s not easy, especially because I keep fantasizing about what’s going to happen on the tenth. When I’m feeling frisky, I have to get on the treadmill in the gym and spend half an hour running to try to wear it off.
I exercise so much over the week I would have reached the South Island if I’d run in a straight line.
And then finally, Tuesday the eighth of March arrives. I spend most of the day at work, making sure everything’s organized. Victoria pushes me out of the door at four p.m., and I go home, have a shower, pack a bag, then get into my Merc and head over to Elizabeth’s apartment.
I get there just before five and text her to say I’m outside. Just a few minutes later, I see her exit the building and approach the car. She throws her bag in the boot, and then opens the passenger door and slides in.
“Hey,” she says, somewhat shyly.
She’s wearing an eau-de-nil-colored wraparound dress that emphasizes her curves and parts to show her tanned bare legs. Her feet are encased in sexy cream high-heeled sandals. I look at her toes for a second, then lift my gaze to hers.
“Red?” I say.
“I’m keen to get five out of you.” She gives me an impish smile.
“You don’t have to worry about that.” I start the engine. “The way I’m feeling you’ll be lucky to keep me in single figures.”
She gives a beautiful, girlish giggle. “Thank you for this,” she says softly as I slide the car into the traffic.
“It’s my pleasure. Literally. And I’m just glad you showed up.”
“You didn’t think I would?”
“Part of me thought you’d back out at the last minute,” I say honestly. I’ve expected a text or a call all week from her saying she couldn’t go through with it.
She looks out of the window. Her fingers are clenched tightly around her purse in her lap. She’s nervous, and I don’t think we’re out of the woods yet.
I change the subject and ask her how her new project is going, and she chats for a while, telling me about an English pharmaceutical company that’s promising a large investment. Gradually her fingers loosen their grip on her purse, and when I make her laugh a few times, her posture relaxes a little.
Her nervousness amuses me more than anything. We’ve known each other a long time, so it’s not like going on a date with someone new. I know she’s attracted to me. So why’s she afraid about finally going to bed with me?
It doesn’t take long to get to the heliport at Mechanics Bay, and I slot the Merc into a space in the overnight parking area and turn off the engine. “Ready?” I ask.
She sucks her bottom lip and nods.
