Weather Layover in Hotlanta

Weather Layover in Hotlanta

Contents

THURSDAY ARRIVAL 2

FRIDAY CHANGE OF PLANS 43

SATURDAY IMPREGNATE? 89

MONDAY SARAH'S RAGE 158

TUESDAY MARATHON 190

WEDNESDAY NEW FRIENDS 208

THURSDAY RESIGNATION 234

FRIDAY SURPRISE 236

BEFORE THE TRIP 237

THIRTY-SIX DAYS LATER 238

SATURDAY WITH SARAH 239

HOMECOMING IN ATLANTA 242

CHARLOTTE VISIT 247

GETTING READY 251

THE BIG DAYS 260

A NEW SARAH 286

RETRIBUTION -- BURNING HIM DOWN 307

THURSDAY ARRIVAL

No sooner had I taken my phone out of airplane mode as my flight from Charlotte to Atlanta finally hit the gate, then I immediately received three new messages. I hesitated in reading any of them, after having circled for over an hour before actually landing. I instinctively knew that the second leg of my flight to L.A. was not going to be taking off this afternoon because of the bad weather in Atlanta, as evidenced by the lack of any connecting flight announcements on the plane. Already resigned to being stuck in Atlanta for the night, I took my carry-on bag out of the overhead, scooped up my laptop bag, grabbed my suit jacket, and exited the plane, wanting nothing more than a few single malt Scotches and a comfortable bed for the night. I had no idea at that moment that this extended layover would have such a profound effect on my life.

As I got onto the tram to the terminal exit, I decided to finally read my new messages. The first one was from the airline, sent an hour before we landed. My flight to L.A. had been rescheduled for tomorrow, which did me no good as I had to be in L.A. today and flying back to Charlotte tomorrow. That Scotch was sounding better and better. The second message was from my assistant Terri. She got the text from the airline as well and had already booked me a suite at a convention center hotel near the airport, and a car service to get there and back. God, I love that woman. I decided at that moment to give her and her husband Tom a trip to the Bahamas for Christmas. The last message was from my L.A. prospect, Stu Gross. Seems everyone but my fellow passengers and I knew that Hartsfield had cancelled all outbound flights, even before we landed.

"See you Tuesday," he wrote. "Have a Scotch or two and enjoy your weekend!"

Damn! That's right, I thought, he's going away for a long weekend. I didn't have enough clothing with me for a five-day trip, which is what this was quickly turning into. Now I would have to fly back to Charlotte in the morning then try this whole trip again on Tuesday. I was not in a good mood.

Arriving at the hotel around 3:30 PM, I headed to the check-in desk.

"Oops," I said to myself, "can't pass off as married without this," as I slipped my fake wedding ring on.

"May I help you Sir," the desk clerk asked me.

"Yes," I said as I handed him one of Terri's business cards, "I'm checking in, my wife Terri Reilly made the reservation in her name earlier this afternoon. The contact info is all on this card... keep it."

I hated doing that to Terri, and I'm sure her husband Tom wouldn't be happy, but I've known her for so long that I can easily field any questions anyone might ask about my fake wife, Terri Reilly.

"Ah, here it is Mr. Reilly," the clerk replied. "You're very lucky sir; you got our last available room for this evening. Nobody is checking out on account of the airport being closed for departing flights due to bad weather."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks so much," I replied.

I grabbed my room cardkey and noticed it had a magnetic stripe and barcode on the back.

"Oh Sir," the clerk said, "You'll need to swipe that in the elevator to get to your floor, you're in an executive suite, top floor."

I quickly slid the cardkey into my wallet next to my cash and handed the bellhop my carry-on, my laptop bag and a twenty. I asked him to put the bags in my room.

"By the way, where can I get a quick drink," I asked him.

"Just follow the signs to Maddux's Bar," he replied.

I wasn't really in the mood for the noise of a sports bar, but what the hell I thought; a Scotch is a Scotch no matter where you drink it. Upon entering the bar, I immediately knew I wouldn't be staying in there for very long, it was quite crowded and too noisy for my taste. I saw one empty seat near the curved far end of the bar and headed for it. As I got near the chair, I saw a woman's red blazer on the right corner of the chair-back. Sitting in the chair directly to the right was an extremely pretty thirty-something blonde, talking on her phone. I saw her very slightly turn her head toward me and look a little upward in my direction as I walked past her. She smiled as I went by her, but I kept my eyes straight ahead, not letting on that I noticed her momentary attention to me. She had her right leg crossed over her left and she sat at a right angle to the empty chair, her back toward it. I didn't notice an engagement or wedding ring on her left hand and thought for a second about how I wouldn't mind spending a night with her as she was damn hot but clearly, she was too young for me. I stood somewhat awkwardly for a moment trying to decide if I should interrupt her phone call, when she realized I was standing behind her.

"Hold on a sec Alex," she said into her phone. "Did you want to sit there," she asked me, motioning toward the empty chair.

"There's a woman's blazer on it, so it looks like it's taken," I replied.

"Oh I'm sorry; my friend left her blazer here when she went back to the room. Please have a seat," she said as she moved the red blazer to the back of her own chair.

"Thanks so much," I replied.

She had a very warm smile, large bright stunning green eyes with high arching eyebrows. Her A-line bob haircut came down on the base of her neck in the back, while the front curled just under her chin, framing her face perfectly, with a part just a little left of center, and the top front lightly feathered back on the sides. She looked strangely familiar. Taking my suit jacket off, and placing it on the back of the chair, I sat and tried to get the bartender's attention, while she continued her phone conversation.

"Sooooo Alex, are you ready to finally do this," she asked.

The volume on her phone was up so loud I could clearly hear the person on the other end.

"You know I am. But are you sure he's really going to follow through this time? Remember what he did the last time you tried doing this, Alex," the woman on the other end of the phone replied then asked.

The pretty blonde went on saying, "I told Dan it's done between us if doesn't go through with this. He swore to me yesterday he was going to do it, Alex. He should be contacting me any minute now. He said he'd be leaving his office around 3:45 and would text me on his way out the door."

"Does he know I'm the other partner, Alex," the other woman asked.

"Yes, and he's very pleased," she answered.

I was a bit confused for a moment, and then realized the blonde sitting next to me and the other woman on the phone were both named Alexandra.

The blonde continued, "Look Alex, I'll text you the moment he gets here, that should be in about forty-five minutes."

"OK, not a minute later," the other Alexandra said.

Hanging up her phone, the blonde turned slightly toward me, her legs still crossed, clearly pleased after her call.

"Are you stuck here in Atlanta because of the weather," she asked me.

"Looks that way," I replied.

"Well let me show you some southern hospitality. Bartender," she called out, "The gentleman's drink is on me."

"Thank you very much, but that's not necessary," I told her.

"No really, let me buy you a drink. I know how shitty is to be stuck somewhere because of bad weather, away from the family, besides I'm in an exceptionally good mood right now," she answered.

"No family but... OK deal! Thanks," I said.

"But you're wearing a wedding ring," she replied. "Oh, I'm sorry... you're not a widower, are you?"

"No," I replied chuckling and cutting her off. "Nothing like that, I wear this on business trips when I'm meeting potential new clients. They see a wedding band and they think stable, committed, reliable... you know what I mean," I responded.

I then slid the ring up my finger and showed Alex my hand.

"See, no white line," I said.

"Pretty clever," she replied laughing.

The bartender came over, I ordered my single-malt Scotch neat and he quickly gave it to me.

"Thanks for the drink....... uh... Alex," I said.

"You're welcome... how did you know my name," she asked me.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but your phone volume was up so loud, I heard the person on the other end call you Alex," I replied.

"Ohhhhh, (now giggling) I do that all the time in noisy places like this, no offense taken. And you are," she asked.

"Jack," I said.

"Hi Jack," she responded as she turned directly toward me, offering me her hand, "It's very nice to meet you, Jack."

I stood to shake her hand. She was wearing an almost see-through cream-colored Yves Saint Laurent silk challis blouse, just like several that Terri had. A ruffled placket ran down the entire length of it, and she was clearly braless. Her tight black skirt came barely four inches down her shapely thighs and her legs looked incredible. I was immediately aroused as I gazed upon her.

"It's nice to meet you too, Alex," I said, as I took her hand.

She had a striking diamond and blue sapphire ring on her right ring finger.

"That's a beautiful ring, Alex," I remarked. "Where did you get it?"

Alex released my hand, then put her right hand flat against the top of her chest above her incredible breasts, facing the ring outward. Her blouse was now pulled tight across her breasts, outlining their shape and size magnificently. They looked to be symmetrical and perfectly round on the bottom with no sag. I guessed her for a large B-cup, my personal favorite.

"You like it, Jack," she asked. "Come closer... look at how many stones there are."

I moved closer to her to see the ring better.

"I got it as a Christmas present, years ago," Alex said. "I love this ring!"

"Sounds like you're about to close a pretty big deal," I asked her.

"OHHHHH, you have no idea how big," she said smiling, "I've been trying to do this for months."

"Well congratulations, Alex. I guess you'll be adding a few more of those beautiful YSL silk blouses to your wardrobe soon," I said.

Somewhat surprised, but clearly pleased she replied, "The man has good taste, he knows Yves Saint Laurent."

She then shifted all the way back in her seat, sat up straight, and rolled her shoulders back, which pulled her blouse tight across her breasts, markedly increasing the outline of their shape and her nipples. I watched her nipples harden as she began to slide her right thumb and index finger down the ruffled placket on the front of her blouse.

"I just like the way the silk feels... against my skin," she said coyly, as she smiled and lookup up into my eyes.

"What woman doesn't," I replied.

It was then I realized I had gotten visibly hard. I quickly sat and prayed she didn't notice my arousal.

She smiled and said, "YSL tie huh, and silk as well!"

"The lady knows men's fashion accessories," I told her. Before she could speak again her phone rang.

"Excuse me Jack," she said while turning away from me.

As she picked up her phone and saw the calling number, she muttered to herself, "What the hell? He said he was going to text me!"

Answering the phone and holding it to the right side of her head, away from me, she began talking, "Hello, Dan?... Why are you calling me from your home number...? WHAT?!... What do you mean you're not going through with it...? You promised me Dan...! You promised me...! No... I SAID NO...! I don't want any more of your excuses you gutless little prick...! This was your idea, remember!?... You've humiliated me for the last time Dan... It's over with us Dan, DONE!"

She hung up the phone and slammed it on the bar.

"That asshole, that lousy asshole," her voice now beginning to crack. "He promised me, he promised me."

I sat silent and motionless as she tried to compose herself.

After what seemed like an eternity, which in reality was only about a minute, Alex turned back toward me.

"Well, so much for my exceptionally good mood, huh?" she said.

I could see she had tears in both of her eyes. I instinctively pulled my handkerchief out of my suit breast pocket and started to hand it to her saying, "I'm so sorry, Alex."

She reached out, took the handkerchief, and cupped her hands around mine, feeling the texture of the handkerchief, and still trying not to cry, she managed to muster up a downturned smile.

She looked up into my eyes and said, "Of course... it's silk."

"May I," I asked her as I took the handkerchief from her hand and brought a fold of it up to her face to blot her tears. "Wouldn't want to smear that makeup, would we," I asked her.

"No, I mean... yes, don't want to smear it," she replied, "Go right ahead."

As I dried around the corners of her eyes, she uncrossed her legs for the first time since I had seen her.

"Thank you, Jack," she said in a near whisper.

I handed her the handkerchief and told her to keep it.

"Thanks again," she said as she put it in her purse. Then, after letting out a sudden deep sigh, she called to the bartender, "Another round over here please. Well, that's done now. Time to move on to something bigger and better."

She began to quietly laugh to herself, and it was somewhat sinister sounding. I assumed it was a release of tension. She stopped laughing just as quickly as she had started and looked directly at me, with a now curious look on her face.

"No family, Jack, huh...? No wife..., no kids," she asked.

"No, no one but me right now, Alex," I replied.

"Well, you must have girlfriend, right," she asked.

"Not at the moment," I told her.

Alex then smiled broadly.

We began chatting about current events, the weather, where we grew up, politics, old flames, our childhood experiences, and her mood seemed to be getting much better. We quickly felt comfortable talking about nearly anything. I told Alex about my trip to Brazil and Venezuela last year, and the horrible two-day layover I had in Caracas without air conditioning. Alex asked me what my worst travel horror story was. I said it was too embarrassing to discuss. She insisted I tell her. So, I told her about the time I bought some traditional medicine, during a trip to southeast Asia, when I was in my late twenties. The local men all swore that it prevented jock itch, which was a big problem in that humid jungle climate. It caused all of my pubic hair to fall out about three weeks later and gave me a rash that lasted for several months. None of the hair ever grew back.

"So there's nothing down there now," Alex asked.

"Just the important parts," I replied.

"I've never seen a grown man without pubic hair Jack, except in porn videos," Alex said coyly, and then laughed.

I then asked Alex for her worst travel story. She told me that when she was in college, she had eaten some Indian food that didn't agree with her. She got on a cross county flight hours later and had terrible malodorous flatulence the whole time she was on the plane. She said the flight attendants made her stay in the restroom, until just before they landed. The story seemed to entertain her even to this day. She was so bright and lively, with an incredible personality. There was a beautiful wholesomeness as well as sexiness about her. Alex asked me what I did for living.

"Specialized security work," I told her. "Mostly for NGOs and corporate clients, as well as some human rights work, and an occasional damsel in distress. My company finds and closes security holes. We also occasionally do deep background investigations, but not so much in the last few years. I usually farm those out."

"Sounds fascinating," she said.

"How about you Alex, what do you do," I asked her, trying to get off the subject of my employment.

"Oh, I'm on television," she replied. "So is my friend Alex."

"I have to confess Alex," I told her. "I haven't looked at a TV in years. After meeting you, I wish now I had watched more."

She laughed. As we continued to talk, her body language changed. Her head was tilted now slightly to the right, her chin slightly down, as she looked up at me. She began playing with her hair. She was throwing me all the signs and I wished I was ten years younger.

She asked how old I was, "Almost forty-seven," I said to her. "I didn't tell her that my forty-seventh birthday was tomorrow."

"Your face makes you look so much younger," she said as she reached up and touched my left cheek.

"I hear that from a lot of people," I replied.

Decorum dictated I not ask her age, but she eventually told me she was thirty-two.

"Were you able to get a room for the night, Jack," Alex asked.

"Yeah, my assistant Terri took care of that before I landed," I told her. "She booked me a suite here for the night. But I can't go out to L.A. now until Tuesday, and I'm not looking forward to flying back to Charlotte tomorrow and then repeating this trip next week. And then I'll be out of the country for about five weeks after that."

"So spend the weekend here in Atlanta," she said encouragingly.

"I'd love to, but I only brought enough clothing for an overnight trip," I replied.

She looked me in the eyes and smiled. "Well Jack," she said, "Things always have a way of working themselves out."

"I guess you're right, Alex," I replied.

She giggled and said, "I know I am!"

We had been talking for nearly an hour as the bartender placed two fresh drinks in front of us; Alex said to me, "Jack, can I ask you a question about men?"

"Shoot," I replied.

She then asked me, "Do all men fantasize about a ménage à trois with two women?"

I sat stunned for a couple of seconds by the bluntness of her question.

"Ahhhhh..., I think it's genetic," I replied laughing.

"Have you," she asked.

"Ever had a three-way," I blurted out as I began to laugh.

"No silly, every fantasized about it," she responded laughing as well.

"Well... I've never done it, but I have thought about it," I told her. She just smiled and nodded her head. "Where did that question come from," I asked her.

"Just curious, and thanks for being so honest, Jack. Most men wouldn't be so candid with a woman they had just met," she said. She picked up her drink to toast and said, "Here's to candidness!"

"To candidness," I replied as our glasses clinked together. "OK Alex, your turn. Have you," I asked her.

She briefly displayed mocked surprise and then smiled.

"Done it... or thought about it," she replied.

"Either," I said.

"Done it... no. But almost... twice. Anyway, I'm not seeing that guy who wanted to anymore," she followed up quickly.

"May I inquire why you didn't go through with it," I asked her.

"He got cold feet at the last second," she answered.

"Ohhhhh... That had to be very awkward," I said.

"Yeah, extremely awkward, but it's probably for the best. I think he just wanted to fuck some of my friends and used the three-way I had agreed to and wanted to do as an excuse," she continued.

"So you were interested," I asked.

"Hell yeah I was interested," she replied. "I read Hemingway's 'Garden of Eden' in high school, and I've thought about it ever since." Noticing the time was now after 4:30, she said, "Oh god, Alex. I forgot about Alex."

"So call her and invite her to join us," I said.

She paused for a moment, smiled and the laughed that same sinister sounding way she had earlier.

Looking me square in the eyes she said, "Would you Jack? Would you ever engage in a ménage à trois with two women... that you had just met?"