Sara-ndipity

Paul was amused.

"I suppose I should be grateful you did that with a wave, rather than a wink."

"In which case, I should be grateful that you did not threaten me with a pistol first! And now that I think about it, your flattery is awry tonight. I am, it seems, 'sulking' as well as being a black queen. What happened to my being a nymph of autumn?"

Paul laughed appreciatively and flipped over the book that was lying on the table behind the laptop.

"Ah, mystery solved. I see you've been brushing up on your Pushkin."

Sara smiled and blushed, despite herself. She picked up the photograph from her keyboard and studied it for a moment.

"This is the one you took of me in the park isn't it?"

She glanced up and caught an odd look on his face. It was quickly gone and she wondered what it was that she'd seen. Or perhaps she'd been mistaken and it was just the play of the light. She was distracted by the arrival of their food and coffees. The food absorbed them for a few minutes before Paul replied.

"Yes, it is. Do you like it?" he asked, gesturing at the photograph.

"I do. I'm not sure it actually looks like me though."

"Oh, I think it does. It's very, very good."

Sara blushed again even as she laughed.

"Of course it is; the photographer is hardly likely to say 'I took a photo and it was complete crap'!"

"Aha, but I'm not the one who said that. I promised you a story, didn't I? Ready? Have you heard of Eric Balfor?"

Paul told Sara all about the sudden appointment with Eric Balfor which had kept him from meeting with her. He went on to describe the ongoing contract work he'd been doing over the last few weeks, all started because of her photograph. The story then drifted into a description of his attempts to find her again; from the maple leaf message, to frequenting the park and searches on his days off around Black Forest and the environs of Greenwich Avenue.

Sara was stunned by just how much effort he'd apparently gone to. Even if he was exaggerating it by half, he'd gone to quite a deal of trouble to try to track her down again. He was under no obligation to. After all, it was his photograph. She began to wonder, then, just why he was here.

In the lull that followed his story she was again struck by those ice blue eyes. They were perpetually sparkling, as if he was just about to laugh. It made her fidgety, she felt sure that somehow she was the source of his mirth, and she didn't like to be made fun of.

Paul saw her discomfort and put a hand on her knee.

"I did tell you in the park that I wanted an excuse to see you again. It's a pretty excuse, to be sure, but even without it I would have tried to find you."

Nine instances out of ten, Sara would have brushed aside a statement like that as well-meaning but unfounded flattery. Her mouth opened to dispute his claims, but she stopped herself before her retort even began.

Instead, in a voice that was far softer than she intended, she replied, "It's just a matter of poor timing, I suppose. Any other time of year and you would find me either here or in the park more than at home. The past few weeks though I'll bet I've only been here half a dozen times. The park hardly at all."

She gestured to the laptop which was still open on the low table in front of them and smirked.

"I've heard rumors that HR has approved my boss' request to move a cot into my office so that I never have to leave."

Paul nodded in sympathy, chuckling.

"I count myself very lucky that I was able to leave those games behind. I'm still not exactly sure how I accomplished it. It's a mystery to me. It's hard to be passionate about expense reports and fax cover sheets. I dread the thought of having to go back once it's discovered that I'm a fraud."

The playfulness in the quirk of his lips confirmed to her that he was teasing, but there was something about the texture of his deep voice, and the cadence to his words that was sort of intoxicating to her, and so she played along. She leaned forward in her seat, fists beneath her chin and eyes wide in mimicry of breathless awe. She half whispered, "Fraud?"

He leaned in close until they were only inches apart and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Oh yes. You see, I pass myself off as an artist, but in reality, I'm just a monkey with a nice camera. If you only take photographs of beautiful things, it is easy to make it look like art."

The change in his companion, the sudden playfulness, made his heart beat a little faster, and now that they sat so close ... His eyes flickered from her dark eyes to her lips, which were bowed just slightly upwards as she listened to his banter. There was a distinct possibility that he would have closed the narrow gap between them and kissed her had the server not appeared.

"You two looked like you were done, and this just came out of the kitchen," she cheerfully sang as she set a single plate on the table.

A slice of some triple chocolaty confection with a pair of forks was artfully arranged on the plate beneath a warm chocolate sauce.

"Just something new we're trying out and I thought you two wouldn't mind being guinea pigs."

She offered a wink to Sara that Paul was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to see. Sara sighed, obviously a little perturbed, but then smiled back.

"Thank you, Jill, it looks delicious!"

She glanced at Paul whose eyes still had that playful sparkle, even though he was smiling ruefully. He couldn't help one last sally though.

"Oh wait, you were talking about the dessert?"

She was taken aback for a moment and turned to watch Jill as she walked back to the counter.

"You're checking out Jill!? Well, she's OK I guess ... "

He smiled softly and this time couldn't help himself. He reached up and stroked her cheek gently.

"No stupid", he said tenderly, "not the waitress."

Sara's eyes flew back to Paul's face as the fiery blush spread across her features from the location of his touch. Was he just playing, or was this -- amazingly -- something far more wonderful. She found herself locked in his gaze and watched in wonder and delight as the laughter in his eyes faded into a genuine expression of feeling.

"Paul, I ..."

She never got any further. His hand moved around to put a finger against her lips. Then, after a moment he gently took her chin in his hand and pulled her gently forward as he leaned over to meet her.

Time slowed for a moment, like the chocolate syrup congealing on the forgotten dessert plate. She was conscious of the tender light in his brilliant blue eyes, the firm grasp on her jaw, the warm scent of him as he drew closer, the subtle features of the bronzed skin of his face and the strong, sensual curve of his mouth. His mouth, oh my God, his mouth ...

And then she lost herself in the wash of emotion that flooded through as he kissed her. Shades of golden autumn roiled through her senses -- fiery reds, warm honey orange and bright sunshine. A barrage of conflicting thoughts created a cacophony of commentary against the background of delirious sensation.

'He's kissing me! No, this happens in stories, not in real life. I bet he does this to all the women he seduces. My God, he's delicious. Shit, the cake! Am I leaning on it? I don't care. Stop it brain and let me just enjoy this, please! Should I kiss back? Is this too much? Oh, that's heaven. Mmm.'

Sara felt Paul break the contact and draw away softly. She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes until they fluttered open as he gently caressed her cheek before withdrawing his hand too. He watched her intently and for a moment they just gazed at each other. A shadow of doubt crept into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sara. That was too sudden. Our second meeting, I ..."

Now it was her turn to put her finger up to his mouth.

"Sssh. No apology necessary."

And she kissed him again to confirm it.

-------

Sara studied the picture which dominated the southern wall of the large corporate board room. It was an evocative image of a maple tree in glorious autumn splendor. Somehow the photographer had managed to capture the very essence of the season, the majestic tree frozen in a golden, eternal twilight. It wasn't hard to imagine the wind softly sighing through the bronzed foliage, the whisper of falling leaves, that sense of gentle inevitable sorrow which accompanies the turning of the year.

It was a fitting enhancement to this room, she thought. Not the colors and textures -- although they exquisitely complemented everything in the carefully designed room -- no, it was the sheer dominance of the glory of nature. It was a reminder that here, in the world of corporate affairs and big business, the world contained so much more than the mighty greenback. More subtly, it was also a reminder that all things, no matter how glorious, are not immune from the changing tides of seasons and times.

Her reverie was broken by Eric Balfor.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting. I asked Prudence to see you in here while I was held up with a conference call."

Sara stood and held out her hand.

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Mr. Balfor. I appreciate it. Sara Turner."

He shook her hand and then paused, studying her face.

"Have we met before Miss Turner? Prudence tells me I should just give you the job and get to my next appointment. But every so often I do like to pretend I'm in charge of the company and make up my own mind."

"It's Mrs. Turner and, no, I don't believe we've met. You have met my husband though, so I know you by reputation."

Sara smiled with a little twinkle in her eye. His answering grin indicated that Paul had indeed described him to her very well. Eric Balfor was not immune from the charm of a well presented young woman who was confident enough in herself to be a little unconventional.

"Well then, Mrs. Turner, and how does your husband know me then by, ah, 'reputation'?"

Her smiled broadened and she turned to gesture toward the maple.

"That's our tree."

"I really don't see ... Oh! You're married to Paul Turner? I do see, yes. And I have seen you before, haven't I. Paul showed me the picture -- of you -- that convinced me to hire him. Well, well."

"Yes, he took my picture under that tree. I saw the original of this after he took it. I must say though that it's spectacular enlarged like that as the end piece to this room. It's an intriguing statement for those who wish to think about it. Was its placement your idea?"

"Yes, it was. And for the reasons I imagine you've guessed. Unless Paul told you?"

"Not at all. He didn't know what you'd planned to do with each of his pieces. He's often wondered where this one went. I think he imagined our tree in a vestibule somewhere as a mood setter."

"Well, you can reassure him that I value his artistic genius far more highly than that. You may also tell him that his unique photography skills have contributed more to my company's brand, market positioning and enterprise culture than the top three campaigns dreamt up by my marketing team."

"I shall, he'll appreciate that, thank you."

"Well, I was going to ask why I should hire you as my new Director of Venture Strategy. However, I think that question's redundant. You have a good eye for opportunity, poise, style, a natural charm, a deft skill with flattery -- no, don't deny it Mrs. Turner, I did notice it -- and, I believe, a shrewd business sense as I judge it from your career history. Would you like to add anything?"

Sara laughed.

"There is one other reason, Mr Balfor."

"Oh? And it's Eric by the way. Welcome aboard."

"Let's just call it ... serendipity."

-------

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Thanks to Warrior_Wolf for the editing.

PlayJett