We Meet Again

We Meet Again

Author's notes: I claim the copyright to this story, and it may not be posted elsewhere except by express written (electronic counts as written) permission. This is a work of fiction, and no real person is represented here except for the conductor of the Atlanta Symphony, who plays a very minor part. As a celebrity he is fair game for what he does in my mind, and in this story. He makes two cameo appearances. The setting is Atlanta, Georgia, and the streets and places are real, except for the office building where David works. I have taken literary license in moving the studios of the TV station to another location. My apologies to whatever business was destroyed to make room for the studio. This story was edited by CopyCarver, who has been an immense help in bringing the story to completion. It's my first attempt at a romantic story. I'm a male, so it isn't gushy. There is some sex in the story, placed there to provide a measure of erotic realism. No animals were killed, and no greenspace violated in the making of this story. The story was posted here earlier by chapter, in 11 submissions. This is the entire story. Feedback is the only payment a writer gets at Literotica, so please pay me.

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

I descended in an otherwise unoccupied elevator from my office on the sixteenth floor to the lobby level, anticipating lunch at Mary Mac's Tea Room. I'm a creature of habit, and have always eaten there except on the weekends or when I'm out of town. The food is always good.

Well, there was a short period when it wasn't. The place had been sold, and the new owner lacked the dedication that Mary had put into her restaurant. As a result, the quality suffered. She didn't like that because her name was still used to identify the establishment so she bought it back, in turn restoring the quality. The lost customers returned. It was a small place, actually, on Ponce de Leon Avenue, just a block or two off Peachtree Street and within walking distance of my office.

I turned the corner from West Peachtree Street onto North and began the easy walk up a slight incline to Peachtree Street, then left over to Ponce, and right. I could see the place now, a short distance down Ponce on the left. My eyes caught sight of a very nice-looking woman just entering the restaurant.

"Down, boy," I told my budding erection. But she was a piece of eye candy, nobody would argue that point. As I entered the restaurant a moment or two later, Mary grabbed and hugged me.

"Hi, David. You want a menu, or are you brave enough today to try the special? Salmon covered in a dressing laced with a hint of horseradish?" She led me to the booth I have used for eight years, since I first joined Ross and Faber, Architects, as one of several vice presidents.

"If you recommend it, pretty lady, I'll try it." Mary beamed at the complement.

"Good. I'll have Suzie bring it out." She seated me and wandered toward the kitchen, gracefully interacting with several other customers along the way.

I noticed the usual crowd, and a few I didn't recognize, but didn't see the woman that had intrigued my interest anywhere. None of my office friends ate here. They preferred the upscale high-priced places, but I liked the home-style cooking Mary served. I even brought clients here, and it didn't hurt our business any. Mary had gleaned a few kudos from them, too.

My back was to the restrooms so I couldn't see in that direction, but I heard the woman in the booth behind me ordering from the menu. That booth had been empty when I was seated. There was something about the lilt in her voice that seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. Suzie brought me a glass of sweet tea, telling me the salmon would be 'up' soon.

"Thanks, Suzie," I replied. I flashed her my swoon-maker smile as she turned to leave.

I kept mulling that voice over in my mind, trying to place it, but my memory just wouldn't pull it out. I decided to make a trip to the restroom to see if I could recognize the person with the lilting voice upon my return.

As I returned, I glanced unobtrusively at the woman. It was the woman I had seen earlier. Still no recognition came to me. She was a lovely thing, though. She had beautiful auburn hair that cascaded below her shoulders in a provocative style that turned heads. And her eyes. Behind frameless glasses were green, playful orbs that could pierce your heart.

As I took my seat I was still pondering from where I might know her. I was certain I did, but from ...? It was at that very moment, as Suzie was placing my salmon before me, that I blurted out loudly, "Nancy Worthington," to nobody in particular. I wasn't sure it was her, but the resemblance was there.

Suzie backed away abruptly. Her mouth was about to fall open when the lady behind me slid from her booth. As the stranger's eyes scanned the dining area she questioned, "Who called my name?"

"You're Nancy Worthington? Of Sprayberry High School in Savannah?" I countered, blushing a bit.

"I am. And you are... you're David Duncan! My God, David, it's been a long time. Don't you recognize me?"

"Uh... sure. Sure I do. It's the hair and glasses that threw me off for a moment," I recovered. "It used to be blonde." I smiled my killer smile again. The eye candy was my girlfriend from eighteen years ago, and she was as stunning now as then. I offered my hand, but she slapped it away.

"I'm taking no handshake from you, you son-of-a-gun!" She enveloped me with her arms, squeezing as hard as she could. I would have returned the hug but her arms trapped mine.

Suzie was still standing there, mouth agape, but was beginning to break into a smile. "Suzie, bring Miss... Mrs.... Ms... Worthington's order to my booth and put it on my tab."

"Certainly, Mr. Duncan," Suzie replied, now smiling brightly.

I motioned an invitation for Nancy to join me in my booth. She reached over for her purse and accepted.

"You don't have to buy my lunch, you know."

"Yes I do. You're in my booth, and nobody but me pays for meals served at this table; at least not while I'm here."

"You're a hard man to deal with; you know that, don't you?"

"So I've been told. But I'm really a pussycat for a good-looking lady like yourself," I quipped.

She beamed at the compliment. "Really, David, I insist. I can pay my own way."

"I don't doubt that for a second, but this one is on me. How long has it been since we were together?"

"You mean since we were 'together' together? Or since we were at the same place at the same time?

"Picky, picky!" I exclaimed as Suzie placed our meals on the table, leaving quickly to avoid overhearing our private conversation. "Let's start with the latter. My memory is like a sieve.

"Do you remember Jacob Lansing's New Year's Eve party at the Hilton in Savannah twelve years ago?"

"Indeed I do. And I remember now. You were there with what's his name?"

"Roger. Roger Samples. And you were with that slut I walked in on while she was fucking you six years earlier."

"You mean Sally Wilson? She's not a slut. Don't be so judgmental."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be. But she's what caused our breakup. We were an item, I thought. I had a key to your place and all that. And when I used it to bring something over when you weren't supposed to be there, and I found the two of you rutting around in your bed, I freaked out! I never wanted to lay eyes on you again. Boy, was I pissed. Did you even know I was there?"

"Yeah, I knew, after you slammed the door leaving. But..."

"Why did you do it, David? We were so close then."

"I know. I was just a horny 19 year-old. And you were saving yourself for your wedding night, you told me. I just got carried away. I tried to explain..."

"Yeah, I guess so. But I didn't want to hear it. I was grooming you for a wedding, and you did that to me."

"Have you forgiven me?" I smiled.

"Oh, time heals things, I guess. So, it's no big deal now. Yes. You're forgiven. But now I won't object if you pay for lunch."

"You haven't changed a bit, Nancy. You just said exactly what I assumed you'd say."

"I'm that predictable?" she grinned.

"I didn't say that. I would never have predicted that you would break off our relationship just because I got my rocks off with Sally." Uh oh, not the right thing to say. I realized that before I even finished my words.

Nancy's face went hard. "You bastard. You are so full of yourself, aren't you?"

I looked down at my food, blushing with embarrassment, "I'm sorry. That remark was uncalled for."

"You're damn right it was. But let's talk about something else. What are you doing now?"

"Uh, I'm a vice president for an architectural firm here in town."

"So you're up for the big job as soon as the president goes away." It wasn't a question. Her comment was laced with sarcasm.

"Well, me and eleven other VPs are fighting it out, I guess. I'm the newest of the lot, so the presidency will likely go to one of the guys with more seniority. Although I am considered by the Board of Directors as a front-runner. So there's a chance, I suppose."

"Knowing you as I do, I'm sure you'll be in the running."

"I hope so. But some of the others are real workaholics, and I tend to go home when the day's work is done. What about you? What brings you to Atlanta?"

"Career change. I'm here for an interview with WXIA TV."

"Really? Channel 11? That sounds interesting. What kind of position are you interviewing for?"

"A morning talk show for women. That's what I've been doing in Savannah the last four years, and I want to get into a larger organization with greater potential for advancement."

"Good for you. So you talk to and about the soccer moms?

"I guess you could say that. Soccer moms, lonely widows, little old ladies in tennis shoes, that kind of thing. Sometimes politics and maybe a tad of religion. Nothing deep, though."

"What time slot will it be in?"

"Ten to noon is what the advertisement said. I had my interview this morning and it went well."

"You certainly have the voice and looks for it. Nicely modulated voice, really beautiful..."

"Flattery will get you anywhere, David. But thanks." Her head was slightly bowed, looking up at me through twinkling, flirting eyes.

"I certainly hope so. I'm really sorry about my stupid remark earlier."

"Oh, that's okay. I probably deserved it. I really didn't give you a chance to talk after I walked out. Should have, but I was so pissed. It's water over the dam now. I don't hold grudges. You know that."

"Well, I thought you'd hold that one forever. Tell me, are you married? Children? Any..."

"None of the above. I was married to a guy who turned abusive, and I had to get out of that. We were married a year and a few months. No children, but a lot of bruises."

"I'm sorry. Does it hurt to talk about it?"

"No. You know I don't let things shut me up."

"Yeah, I know. Except dialog with a boyfriend who tried to explain away a girl he got caught fucking."

"Touché."

"Do you want to talk about it? The abusive husband?"

"Not really. It's over, and I learned from it..."

"Okay. Let's move on..."

"To you. What about you? A wife? Two point one kids? Home in the suburbs?"

"Like you, none of the above. Single, never married. Reasonably happy. You know..."

"Girlfriend?'

"Well, sort of. But she's in LA, taking care of an ailing mother. She used to work with me as an assistant until a couple of years ago. When her mother had a stroke, she took an extended absence to care for her. Four months ago she resigned, and we see each other maybe three times a year."

"Are you serious about her? I mean..."

"No, not really. We enjoy being together when we are, but recently that's been..."

"I understand. Seeing anyone on the side?"

"No, but I'm beginning to rethink my position on that."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I just ran into the girl I was gonna marry a long time ago, and..."

"Okay, enough of that. I might be going back to Savannah if this job at WXIA falls through, and I don't do long distance."

"I have a couple of things to finish up at the office this afternoon, but I'd like to see you again. Would you consider dinner tonight?"

"Well, that's the best offer I've had in a long time. Dinner with a vice president who wears dapper suits and has a killer smile? Sure, I'd love to," Nancy replied.

"Good. Here's my card. The office is on West Peachtree, just a block over. Not far from WXIA. If you can drop by around five, I'll show you the office and we'll go to dinner at the Abbey. I'm on the sixteenth floor."

"The Abbey? Isn't that a bit exclusive? And don't you need reservations a week in advance to get in there?"

The Abbey leaned toward exclusivity, but not more so than a couple of dozen other restaurants in town. "It's not that expensive. It's quiet and the service is excellent. You'll enjoy it, I'm sure."

"Yes. But what about the reservation? Can you handle that on such short notice?"

"They know me there. I can swing it." I motioned for Suzie to bring the check. I signed and escorted my lovely companion outside. "Where are you parked? I'll walk you there."

"I'm in the parking deck for WXIA. But you don't need to do that."

"Maybe not, but I don't want any of the locals hitting on you. So, if you'll allow me..."

Nancy punched me in the arm lightly, giving me that pixie smile that used to melt my heart, "Okay, Prince Charming, lead the way."

She took my arm and we headed to WXIA. I think the smile still works.

Chapter Two: Dinner and a Place to Stay

My personal assistant escorted Nancy into my office a moment or two after five o'clock. "Thank you, Ann. I think the day's about over, so why don't you take off?"

"Okay. See you Monday," Ann replied, smiling knowingly as she turned and left my office, closing the door behind her.

I had risen, and walked around the desk to greet Nancy. "Hello, my lady. Our reservation is for six-thirty, so we have a few minutes if you'd like to see the offices." I took her hand, bringing it to my lips for a brushing, dry kiss.

She smiled beautifully. Her perfectly aligned and sparkling white teeth peeked out from behind sensual lips. "My, aren't we the formal one?" she retorted.

"You're a lady, and you deserve the respect formality brings to the greeting."

"Smart-ass; you did that on purpose because you know I've never liked formal situations," smiling to soothe the harsh remark.

"Yes, I did. I was just testing the waters to see how much you might have changed over the years," I confessed. "What about the fifty-cent tour? Interested?"

"Sure. Let me see the view from your window first." She walked to the large, double-paned plate-glass window and peered out. "Isn't that the Georgia Tech campus there, just over the Interstate?"

Taking a place beside her, I replied "Yes. It helps me focus on where I've been and where I want to go. I'm inspired by it, ugly as it is."

"Oh, it's not ugly, David. I think it looks just like an engineering institution should. And where do you want to go?"

I took her arm and guided her out of the office. "Let's talk about that over dinner, shall we? I'd like to show you what we have here, if you'd like."

"Lead the way, Mr. Vice President," she chided.

"Bitch," I muttered. "You haven't changed a bit," I smiled as I guided her along.

She seemed interested, especially when we reached the CAD equipment and the large printers we use to print masters for blueprinting. When I hurried her through the few places I thought would bore her, she didn't seem to mind. When she slowed, so did I, allowing her to see whatever caught her interest. Then it was time to leave for our dinner engagement.

We walked hand in hand to the elevators and took one that was waiting with the door open. The cleaning crew had arrived on the floor and left it with the door locked open. I used my key to unlock it, and we descended to the parking garage. I pressed the button to send the elevator back to the sixteenth floor.

Only a few cars remained in the underground parking area, and I led Nancy to my Porsche Boxster. It was parked just 40 feet from the elevator door, along the row of reserved spaces.

As I opened the door to help her in she commented "What a nice car. This makes my Mercury look like it belongs in a junk yard."

"It gets me where I want to go," I replied.

"What is it? I think I've seen something like it, but I know absolutely nothing about cars."

"It's a Porsche. I bought it two years ago. It's a nice car for a bachelor. Here, let me help you in."

I took her arm so she could seat herself. She sat with both legs outside the car, and then swung them into the car gracefully. She showed a bit of thigh as her skirt rode up.

"Down, boy," I thought as I closed the door and went to the driver's side.

I cranked up the Boxster and headed out of the garage to the Abbey. Luck was with me. I found a parking spot on the street just a few feet from the restaurant entrance. It was being vacated by a late model Lexus.

Robert Spano was entering the Abbey just as we reached the entrance. When he saw us he said, "Hi, Dave. How's it going?"

"Fine, Bob. You alone tonight?" I reached for his hand, as he did mine, and we both smiled as we greeted one another.

"Yeah. I have a concert rehearsal tonight, and just wanted to grab a bite first."

"Would you care to join us? Oh, may I present Ms. Nancy Worthington, an old friend of mine."

Spano took her hand and, bowing slightly, kissed her hand lightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms Worthington." Then turning to me, "Thanks, Dave, but I wouldn't want to intrude on your... uh, date tonight. But do come by the center sometime and we'll chat." With that he stepped aside to allow us to precede him into the restaurant.

The maitre d' escorted us to a table somewhat secluded, and held the chair for Nancy as she was seated. "It's very nice to see you tonight, Mr. Duncan. I'll have someone attend to you immediately."

"Thank you George," I replied, taking my seat.

"The man at the door? That was the Conductor of the Atlanta Symphony, wasn't it?" asked Nancy.

"Yes, it was."

"So you rub elbows with Atlanta's elite every day, do you?" she teased, placing her hand over mine on the table.

"Well, not every day," I smiled, placing my other hand over hers. "Just when we meet by accident at restaurant doorways."

"I'm really impressed. A beautiful new car, hobnobbing with celebrities, what else should I know about my old boyfriend?"

"I'm an open book, Sweets. Turn to any page and just start reading," I quipped. She blushed at my calling her 'Sweets,' the pet name I had used with her so many years ago.

Looking down at the table, avoiding eye contact, she said in a sultry voice, "You called me 'Sweets'. Does that mean I can call you 'Stud'?" That had been her nickname for me.

"Not in here. Please." It was my turn to blush.

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the wine steward. "May I bring you something to drink?" he asked politely, handing me a wine list.

Looking over to my voluptuous escort, I inquired, "Do you have a preference?"

"I'm afraid my wine selection would be inadequate for this occasion. Whatever you choose will be wonderful, I'm sure."

Returning to the steward, I instructed, "Nothing comes to mind. Just bring us something old and expensive, but please wait until after we've ordered our meal."

"Very well, sir." The steward turned and left us alone again.

"Why did you do that, David? Are you trying to impress me?" she grinned.

"I want to make this an occasion you will remember, and I truly hope I will."

"Well, it's certainly starting that way. I'm finding that you have matured so very much from the young man I used to know. I'll have to be very careful tonight, or I may find myself seduced before the evening is over."