The Dilemma

THE DILEMMA

PROLOGUE

Divorce. I don't think anyone gets married with that as a goal - well, maybe with the exception of some silly celebrities. I think most consider that it could be a possibility, given that half of all marriages end in divorce - sooner or later. But, at the time of betrothal, I think the overwhelming majority believe their marriage will last - maybe naively. Color me naïve.

The woman I married was lovely. We got along swimmingly. Our sex life was great. We didn't have a lot of quirks that irritated each other, and yes, we loved each other very much. I have no doubt about this.

So, why am I divorced?

Because, we put too many things ahead of our marriage - we had very hectic lives with busy, sometimes demanding professions, and we had separate interests that interfered with our personal time. Anyway, at about four years into our marriage, we were finding ourselves pulled in too many directions, leaving too little 'us' time. And neither of us made the extra effort to do something about it.

So, very gradually, a distance started to grow between us, and a cooling of the passion we once shared. We went from being best friends and passionately in love to being friends and in love; to being in the same house, in the same bed, but in different states of existence. We fell out of love. At least, she did. So, we ceased to be a devoted couple, and became 'cohabitating' partners. At that point, my wife said it was enough. She didn't think we could salvage our relationship. And though I didn't agree, I agreed enough that I didn't fight it, which I guess is the same as agreeing.

We divorced, 'amicably' as they say, split things down the middle, stayed friends, and still help each other when a need arises, so on. That was two years ago. Though the divorce devastated me, and I thought that we were two people who were 'right' for each other, and failed to take care of what I saw as a precious gift; I finally accepted the situation, and moved on - after a fashion.

Since my divorce, I haven't met anyone that I liked, loved, or enjoyed being with as much as Candace. And I was starting to think I never would meet someone special again, someone to try to find happiness with. And no, I'm not happy. Without a special woman in my life, I am not a happy man. Some guys don't need that. I do.

As this story begins, I haven't given up on finding someone, but I have become discouraged, a bit cynical, and cautious.

INTRODUCTION

So, who am I? I'm Sean, a 36-year-old bachelor 'by decree', real estate broker by profession, and avid hiker, backpacker and skier by choice. I love the outdoors, dislike crowds and most things 'city'. I like open space. I don't even like dense forests, where you can't see 'what's around the corner'. I don't like any situation where I feel closed in, boxed in.

So I've made a concerted effort to tailor my life, even my professional life, to accommodate my preferred lifestyle. I live and work in the Colorado Springs area of the Rocky Mountain state, have for the last ten years, and I specialize in mountain real estate. I own a home in Cascade, a small community in the foothills west of Colorado Springs, the home I shared with my wife. I purchased her interest in the home and she bought closer to the city.

I'm your average, middle-aged guy, except probably more fit than most. I'm 5'-ll'' and weigh in the 180's, and I'm pretty lean, pretty muscular. I have above average looks, with sandy-blond hair, slightly wavy, which I wear a little longer than a standard business cut, and I'm clean-shaven; and no, I don't do the 'three-day shadow' thing. I have blue eyes that women are attracted to - words like 'enchanting' and 'striking' come up frequently. My facial features are apparently attractive - straight, properly-sized nose, strong jaw and chin, and a nice mouth that fits everything else.

I've never had trouble attracting women, and I'm still a bit surprised by that. Not because I don't know that I'm handsome, but because I am actually kind of shy. I know some guys put out a vibe that attracts women. I don't. I don't have a 'vibe'. I'm not especially charismatic, though I do know how to charm people - kind of necessary in my business; but I don't do the 'used car salesman' thing, never 'glad hand', and when I smile, it's genuine, not because I'm trying to project or anything.

Temperament-wise, I'm pretty even-keel, but high-energy, otherwise. At times, I can be intense when I'm problem-solving. But when I'm not working, I enjoy 'relaxing' activities. I'm not into clubbing, partying, socializing (outside that which is necessary for business), or group activities in general. I do like activities that involve a few friends, small groups, and so on. I am not anti-social. But aside from work, my life is as laid back as I can manage.

STORY

I. BUSINESS AS USUAL

I have a small company. Besides myself, there are five other agents and a secretary. I've stayed small on purpose, and because I can. We have a very successful office and make good money. Two of my agents, a husband-and-wife team, Mark and Sandy, are, like me, very successful. The third agent, Rebecca, is my star. She specializes in high-end properties, and is very aggressive, though very smooth; you never know when she's working you. She does it to me, and still catches me off guard once in a while. The fourth, Arnie, is my city specialist and does well, but is older, and while he works full time, he isn't a hard charger, though he is still an important member of the team. Plus he was a broker for many years and has a wealth of knowledge that I draw on from time to time. The fifth agent, Jamie, is new and still learning, but she's progressing and has what it takes.

It was a Tuesday. I'd just shown a couple a home in a rural development in the foothills and was returning to my office to wrap up business for the day. My secretary, Jan, was on the phone when I came in, and gave me a thumbs-up as I passed her desk - a signal that all was well, nothing pressing. I went to my office and checked new pending listings for review and other paperwork in my in-basket, then reviewed my planner. Shortly, Jamie, my new agent, knocked on my door.

"Yes, Jamie, come in."

"Hi, boss. Got a minute?"

"Sure. How'd it go with the Parkers?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm having a problem with Mrs. Parker. She seems to be a little hesitant to talk to me. It's subtle, but I don't think she likes me that much, and I think it's interfering with our showings."

"Mm hmm. How about Mr. Parker?"

"Oh, no problem there. He's very communicative and plugged into the process."

"How old are the Parkers?"

"Forties."

"And Mrs. Parker, what does she look like - pretty, average, frumpy?"

"Um, average, I guess, maybe a little overweight. Why? Does that matter?"

"It shouldn't, but it does. You're young and attractive, and Mr. Parker knows that and so does Mrs. Parker, and she knows that Mr. Parker notices. This is sexual politics. And an easy fix. Make Mrs. Parker your focus whenever you speak. Be subtle, don't snub Mr. Parker. Finish your exchanges with Mrs. Parker before you address Mr. Parker. Change the dynamic between the three of you. And compliment her on her hair, her makeup, her clothing, or her observations - whatever you can. Don't overdo it. Again, subtle."

"Okay. Got it. Thanks."

"Remember, your looks can be an asset and a hindrance. Learn how to manage the asset and you'll do well."

"Thanks, boss."

"Sean, not boss. You are your own boss. I'm your broker, not your boss."

"Thank you, Sean."

"Go get 'em."

Jamie grinned and left. I went back to my planner, and realized I had to make a couple calls before I wrapped things up. Since my divorce, I've changed the way I do business. I make a concerted effort to keep business in its place. I used to work 60-70 hours a week when it was necessary. Now, I know it's not necessary. One of the mistakes I made that cost me my marriage.

I was just hanging up the phone when Jan came in and took a seat.

"You about done?" she asked.

"Yep. I just have one more call to make and I'm out of here."

"How about dinner?"

"Sure, love to. Give me two minutes. I'll meet you up front."

She smiled and left, killing the lights, buttoning the office up. I finished my call, grabbed my jacket and joined her. She already had the key in the door.

"So, what did you have in mind, tonight?" I asked.

"Pizza!"

"Works for me. Follow or go together?"

"I'll ride with you. You can drop me off on the way back," she replied.

I knew Jan had something on her mind. It's not unusual for us to have dinner together, and sometimes it's just to have dinner, but Jan has worked for me for five years and I can read her pretty well. She helped me open my office when I went out on my own. I was only 31, and although young, I had been a very successful agent for five years, which led to me getting my broker's license and opening my own office. And Jan was instrumental in helping me get off to a good start. Anyway, I know her well, and we're good friends, so I knew something was on her mind.

We went to our favorite Italian restaurant, and when the server took our drink order, Jan started with a Bloody Mary, so now I knew that the something on her mind was something serious. I matched her order. I figured she didn't want to drink alone.

"You okay, Jan?"

"Yes, fine...Mmm, no, not fine. But give me a bit."

"Sure. Work or other, if I may ask?"

"Oh, other."

"Gotcha. What are we having?"

"Pepperoni, jalapenos and tomatoes, okay?" she smiled.

"My favorite. Double pepperoni and double jalapenos, though."

"Right."

After receiving our drinks and ordering, we chatted, office stuff, mostly. I watched Jan's eyes and her facial expressions as we talked. Jan is a striking woman. She is 40, and recently divorced, herself. She's tallish, 5'-8" or so, with an attractive, medium-sized figure, not quite slender, and certainly not 'full-figured', but she is a little buxomy, and is kind of hour-glass shaped. She has a nice, medium-sized derriere, and a great set of legs. But while her figure is nice, well above average, it's her face that is exceptional. She has dark brown eyes framed by dark eyebrows and long, dark eyelashes. Her medium-sized nose is straight and perfect and leads to a truly exceptional mouth, slightly broad with full lips, the kind you see in lipstick ads. And her beautiful face is surrounded by a mane of wavy, dark-brown hair - when she lets it down. At work, she always wears it up in one fashion or another, but when she lets it down, it's gorgeous, flowing over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. I've only seen her with it down a few times, but it changes her whole look. With it up, she looks like a secretary; with it down, she looks, well, sexy as hell - and she doesn't look 40.

"...so Mark said he needed to get together with you before he submits that listing. He has concerns about the seller's veracity. He thinks he's misrepresenting," Jan was saying when our pizza arrived.

We tabled conversation while we dug in. As we were finishing the pizza, Jan asked, "Sean, I'd like another drink and to talk. So, we could do that here, but actually, I'd like more privacy. Do you mind if we continue at my home?"

"No, that's fine. We'll pick your car up on the way, and I can see what you've done with the place," I replied.

"Great."

II. THE SECRETARY

After stopping for her car, we headed to Jan's place, a nice bungalow in Manitou Springs that I found for her when she divorced. They had to sell their house to make the settlement work. Jan pulled in the garage and I parked in the drive and went to the front door and waited.

She opened the door, "Sorry, it took me a minute. Come in. What's your poison?"

"I'll have whatever you're having."

"I'm going to switch to screwdrivers, if that's okay. I don't have tomato juice."

"Drivers are fine."

I went to the small living room, removed my jacket and loosened my tie, getting comfortable. Jan joined me in a couple with our drinks.

She sat and sipped hers for a bit. I waited on her. I knew she had been off a bit, lately. The divorce hit her hard. She had initiated it, but only because her husband had stepped out on her. He went younger, and it crushed her.

"I'm sorry, Sean. I'm just having a little trouble..." she started then paused.

"Jan, no worries. You know you can talk to me about anything. I'm here for you, whatever it is."

"Mm hmm...Okay. Um Sean, do you think I'm attractive?"

"Geez, Jan. Is that what this is about? You are a beautiful woman. I can't fathom why Tom did what he did - midlife crisis, or whatever, but I've seen the bimbo he ended up with. She doesn't hold a candle to you..."

"But he did leave me for her...well, once I found out about her, anyway. So, there had to be a reason. I mean, she must have something...something I don't. Or maybe he was just tired of me..."

"Jan, whatever the reason, it wasn't about you. You're not only a beautiful woman, you're a terrific person. You know, men at Tom's age sometimes just get the itch and give in to it. It's about their lack of character, not about their wives...well maybe sometimes that's part of it, but in your case, I don't see it."

"Well, that isn't how it feels, and...I can't tell you how insecure I feel since it happened. I feel like...like I wasn't enough of a woman. And I'm 40. Men don't go looking for 40-year-old women..."

"Jan, really! You don't look 40, and you are more woman than any woman I know."

I got out of my seat and sat next to her on the sofa.

Jan, honey, you really need to quit blaming yourself because your husband strayed. You know they're having trouble, don't you?"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, Sandy ran into one of Tom's coworkers at Starbucks and they chatted. Sounded like the shine is off the penny and Little Miss Heartbreaker may be going to kick Tom to the curb. Look, I'm sorry about what happened. I know too well how it feels when a marriage ends, regardless of the reason, it always feels like failure. But I don't think Tom deserved you, and in the long run, maybe it was better to find out about his shortcomings, sooner than later."

Jan was tearing up, "I just felt so betrayed, and so...worthless. I can't help it. And you're right; Tom was no picnic; he has his faults, but...to cheat on me, sleep with...with a younger...oh shit, it makes me crazy."

I set my drink down and took Jan's hand in mine, "Jan, you need to put Tom in your rearview mirror, and look ahead, find someone worthy of you..."

"Like you have?"

"Well, yeah, you have me there. So, no, not like me."

"Why haven't you, Sean? Why haven't you moved forward, found someone?"

"Hmm, honestly, I just haven't found anyone that compares to Candace...And before you say it, I know I haven't been looking all that hard."

"I have to get a Kleenex. Just a sec," Jan excused herself, came back with tissues and sat back down, wiping her eyes.

"Oh, I've smeared my mascara...I probably look a fright," she said as she dabbed.

"No, still beautiful," I remarked.

"You really think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course. I wouldn't say it otherwise."

"But you've never...you know, shown interest in me..." she said, trailing off at the last.

"Jan, we work together..."

"What if we didn't? Or are you not attracted to me?"

"Jan, honey. The first time I met you, I was attracted to you. You're an attractive woman. If you hadn't been married, and I hadn't been married, I would have been more than attracted to you. I would have been interested..."

"I'm not married now, and you're not married now..."

"But we work together."

"Or is it because I'm older?"

"No. No, that's not...listen, you don't look your age, and I wouldn't give a crap about that anyway, but Jan, we not only work together, you've been my secretary and good friend for five years...how would we just switch from that?"

"No, I know. But, Sean," she took my hand between hers, "here's the thing, I've been lost since my divorce, and I've...I've always been...attracted to you, and since the divorce, these last few months...I've been alone, and you...well, I've thought about you a lot...thinking that you're alone, too. Why couldn't we maybe be there for each other..." she paused, released my hand and took a drink, then turned back to me, "Sean, I need to...feel like...like a woman, to be loved, to be...I'm sorry. I see you don't feel the same. This was a mistake..."

"Jan...just a sec. I'm sorry, you just caught me off guard. I never had any inkling you felt how you feel. I'm...this is news to me, and I'm trying to digest it."

Jan leaned in and kissed me, gently, tentatively, pressing her full lips against mine. At the same time, she brought one hand up and placed it on the back of my neck, slightly pulling me to her. I didn't resist, and found myself returning the kiss. After a moment, she released me, sat back, dropped her eyes and started shaking her head.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted..."

I tipped her chin up and leaned in and kissed her. She reached for me and I pulled her to me. As soon as I did, I felt her tongue on my lips, invading my mouth. I immediately asked myself, "What the hell did you just do?" but I gave in to the soulful kiss, and pulled her more firmly to me, feeling her breasts mash against my chest, and the heat from her body. I was lost to the passion of the moment, but not so distracted that part of my brain didn't again scream, "What the fuck are you doing? This is your secretary, your friend."

When we ended the kiss, I was flustered, and not just a little aroused. It was a helluva kiss. But more than anything, I was confused. I had always found Jan attractive, but I had never entertained doing anything with her. Now...well, I had just passionately kissed this very desirable woman who is my friend and employee. How do you handle that?

Yeah, I'd already mishandled it. Question was, what now?

Shyly, Jan turned from me, found her drink and took a big swallow. Then without looking at me, speaking to her drink, she said, "I don't regret that. I hope you don't."

I sat, silent, for several seconds.

"Jan, that was...lovely, amazing...but, I wish we hadn't. We can't undo that, and I don't know where we go from here."

She turned and looked directly at me, pinning me with her dark eyes, "I do, Sean. Take me to my bed. Make love to me. Don't think about it. Don't reason over it. Just make love to me."

"But then what? What about tomorrow?" I asked.

"I don't care, Sean. Tomorrow, we'll go to work, do our jobs. Tomorrow can take care of tomorrow. Tonight, I need you. I need you to make me feel like a woman...like I'm special..."

"Jan, you are special, but I don't know..."

She stood, grabbed my hands and pulled me up, then immediately wrapped me up and pulled me into another passionate kiss. I was lost to it. Lost to her - to the feel of her lips on mine, to our tongues intertwined, to the feel of her womanly body pressed against me. I crushed her to me and kissed her; all the while thinking, "Big mistake! Big, big mistake!"

Holding my hand, she led me to her bedroom. The last time I was there, it was empty. Now it was furnished and I noticed the décor, the bedspread, the feminine touches. I was in a woman's bedroom, a woman that worked for me, a woman that was a good friend, but not a 'girlfriend', not a lover - not until this moment.

What was I doing?

Something I would never be able to undo. I just hoped it wouldn't be our undoing.

"Unzip me," I heard as Jan turned her back to me.

She was wearing a knee-length dress, and when I pulled the zipper down, she slipped it off her shoulders and stepped out of it, revealing her body clad only in a bra and pantyhose. I had seen Jan in a t-shirt and shorts at a picnic once, so I knew she had fabulous legs, but now, seeing her in just underwear, it was even more of a revelation how beautiful her body is. I took in her smooth skin, her shapely curves, the firm round bottoms of her buttocks, the muscles in her back, and as she turned around, the mounded flesh of her breasts above the cups of her bra, the lines of her neck and her prominent collar bones. She stood and let me look. As my eyes traveled down her torso, I observed that her stomach, while not hard and flat, was surprisingly well-toned for her age - no pronounced tummy, and she had a deep, vertical, elongated navel. I noticed a very fine line of dark pubic hair extending from her navel that disappeared below her panty line. I found it sexy. I looked at her sleek, well-muscled legs, and shapely feet, then my eyes traveled back up her body till I met her questioning eyes.