I wake up feeling more relaxed and rested than I have in years. It’s been quite a while since I’ve woken up naked feeling like this, and she isn’t even here with me. I imagine how good it would feel to roll over and wrap myself around her, wake her up with a kiss and make love to her until well into the after noon. I slowly roll out of bed and don my long silk robe. The tiled floor of the bathroom is freezing but I find I’m enjoying it. It reminds me I’m alive, and it’s so very good to be alive. I wash my hands and splash some water on my face before wandering downstairs to the kitchen. It’s a glorious day, I pour a short glass of OJ and step out onto the terrace. The sky is cloudless and bright blue; a slight breeze tries to undo my robe. I walk back into the kitchen and put on the coffee maker. I grab the cordless phone and climb back up to the bedroom, Nika’s number is still in the front pocket of my pants. I stare at it and hesitate, is it too soon? Will it feel like I’m crowding her? Will I seem desperate? Needy? I look at myself in the mirrored wall opposite my bed. I look every day of my 42 years, disheveled hair, too many freckles … and yet, she wants me, she wanted me last night. She made that perfectly clear. I smirk at myself and walk back downstairs; the little pot is full of coffee. With a tall cup in my hand I relax on the terrace, her number and the phone weigh down one side of my robe. I sip my coffee thinking of the women I’ve been involved with in the past few years, none of them effected me the way she has. They were all about safety and distance, sex with out strings, as soon as they started to feel some thing real for me I’d be sure to shut them out. I didn’t want to do that with Nika. I didn’t want to do that to myself anymore. I put the coffee cup on the wide balustrade, pull out her number and dial the phone, what the hell am I going to say to her? It rings, what if I get a machine? It rings again. Gods what do I say if she answers. After the third ring there is a click: "The cellular customer you have dialed is away from the phone or outside the service area" I disconnect and slouch down on the woven chaise. I indulge myself in thoughts of her; her beautiful eyes filled with desire, her lips closing on mine. Lust travels up my skin, my nipples tighten as the breeze ripples silk over them. I can feel my self getting wet, I lift my left leg and let my robe slip open. My right hand slips between my legs, in my mind it’s Nika’s hand. I picture us here on my terrace, making love, having sex, fucking. So many glorious possibilities. I want to be so raw with her, give into temptations I’ve barely allowed myself to imagine. Expert fingers work my clit, I’m leaning on my elbows, ass in the air as Nika slides into me from behind. My hips jump and I’m coming, long deep shudders of delight. I keep imagining Nika, her touch, her skin, her lips, her smell. My left hand joins my right and my abdomen starts to contract lifting my hips up to my phantom love. Thinking of her keeps me going for a long time. Finally, feeling exquisitely sated, I open my eyes to the morning sunlight, birds chirp in the trees, I squeeze my thighs tightly together and shiver as I slowly extract my hands. I glance around at the view, profuse flowers perfectly outline the perimeter of the lawn, thick trees full of squirrels and birds lead down to the ravine, in the distance the tops of the corporate towers of the downtown core. What I love about this yard is its absolute privacy. I leave my robe on the lounge and walk over to the narrow end of the pool. It’s a long lap pool, a small bridge arches over the middle for easy access to the lawn. I dive in. The water is a shock and a delight, I swim several relaxed laps feeling strong and beautiful in my skin. I retrieve my robe from the chaise and have a shower. Breakfast is another cup of coffee some toast and pate. I retrieve my attaché from the hall and pull out the envelopes I’ve been ignoring. The first is from Mark’s lawyers, he wants a divorce, 50% of everything I own! I laugh out loud. Not going to happen. The second covers his position in Ridgecorp, no surprises there. The third envelope contains a letter typed but not signed, outlining my agreement to the sale of half my shares in Ridgecorp to my soon to be Ex-husband Mark. Which would mean weakening my position on the board and assuring Mark a controlling interest. Accompanying the letter were photographs of me in a variety of suggestive situations with every woman I’d been with for the past six years. Holding hands at a flea market, kissing on a beach blanket, long looks over dinner; there were several of these, because most didn’t make it past the first date. The last one was Nika and I at the Willow Café. Annoyance turned to anger, then to rage. Who the fuck does he think he is! Seconds later I was pacing the parquet waiting for his phone to ring. "Hello, who is dis?" I child’s voice asked.

"I’m sorry, I must have made a mistake."

"S’okay, Byebye." Just as I hung up I heard a man saying ‘Carl I told you not.’

I was sure it was Mark. I hit redial. Mark answered.

"Mark Johnson."

"Hi, Mark. It’s Kathryn, I just got your little package. You can have the divorce, gladly. But you will not have Ridgecorp! You’ll be hearing from my lawyers. Oh and call off whatever dog you’ve had following me."

"Look you can’t just order me around!"

I hung up and immediately called my lawyer, who unlike my so-called husband was on speed dial. Gil was a long time family friend and one of the few men I truly trusted. He knew the truth about my marriage so I knew I could trust him with all the details of what I’d found in the envelopes. After forty minutes on the phone with him I felt much calmer. The doorbell rang just as we were saying our goodbyes. I checked the security monitor.

"Guess who’s just arrived." I said to Gil. " What the hell are you doing here?"

I said to Mark as I opened the door.

"Careful Kathryn," Gil said. "You know you’ve got the upper hand no matter what dirt he thinks he has on you."

"Thanks, old friend. I’ll talk to you on Monday." I snap my cell-phone closed and stare daggers at my husband of appearance. "Well, what the hell do you want?"

"Ryn, aren’t you going to let me in?"

"Why the hell should I?"

"Ryn, can’t we act like adults about this?"

"Stop calling me Ryn!" I walk away from the door and retrieve the photo’s. Mark walks in and makes himself comfortable on the leather sofa in my office. I throw the photos in his lap. "Care to explain this?"

"Kathryn, its just business."

"Ah yes, your latest brilliant plan! Your version of business! You are not going to destroy my family’s company the way you destroyed your own." This stung his pride, which was why I said it. "I really can’t believe you’re trying to blackmail me, when I’m the one who knows all your dirty little secrets." I storm through the open doorway to the kitchen and pour myself another cup of strong coffee. When I return he is flipping through the photographs. With his chin near his chest he raises his eyes to mine and a wicked grin curled his full lips. Right at that moment he is the picture of evil.

"Quite the little collection you’ve got here." He said. "What would the Board think."

"I’m sure my ‘collection’ pales in comparison to yours. As for the Board of Directors they’re not as conservative as you seem to think. If you want to start mud slinging perhaps you should consider who has the biggest pile. Remember where you spent our wedding night, Mark? And then our Honeymoon? The bathhouse tour of Asia; Is that what your travel agent friend called it?."

"Look Ryn," his face switches from toxic to charming, "we both knew from the beginning this was all a sham, to placate our parents, to placate the fucking board, I’m sick of those fucking old bastards controlling my life."

"So am I! Why am I suddenly the enemy? Why aren’t you blackmailing them? There’s plenty of skeletons rattling around those goons." I was standing behind my desk leaning forward on my palms. I could see he had Nika’s picture on top. He was staring at it, gripping the edges, crumpling them. I wanted to jump over the desk and rip her picture away from his sickening grip.

"Don’t you give a damn how I feel, knowing my wife is parading around town like this!" He threw the pictures at me, they scattered, Nika’s slides over the desk and covers my hand. I look down at her beautiful profile, my thoughts must have shown on my face. Mark explodes. "Christ you make me sick!" I sat down and let him spew his insults and profanities. His violent words slid past me without effect, I saw the self-hatred, confusion and hypocrisy flowing over him like swirls of heat. No matter how much he tried to throw it at me the layers of anger just thickened around him. The phone was ringing, I ignored it, Mark just yelled louder. I waited until he was finished and sat for a moment, looking at his flushed face, flared nostrils and heaving breath. I tried to find the lovable flirt I’d met in college, the handsomeness that attracted both men and women seemed to have disappeared, perhaps that was the problem, vanity had always been his Achilles heel. Deep down inside he’d believed the hateful things his father had said to him. He’d let me see that, his pain and vulnerability, that was a long time ago.

"You always were a self-loathing hypocrite. Get the Hell out of my house before I call the Police." He laughs an abrupt bark, as he walks casually to the door, probably thinking he has me scared. He saunters towards his Mercedes like nothing is amiss, totally self-assured. "Call off your little private dick Mark or you’ll find yourself in court and remember darling, I have far more dirt on you than even exists about me." He paused and half turned for a split second before continuing. I slam the door, pace back and forth in the living room considering my options. Three phone calls and 90 minutes later my plan is put into action. I sit at my desk feeling exhausted. It’s almost 3pm and I haven’t eaten. I remembered the phone ringing while Mark was venting. I pick it up and dial for messages; One new message:

"Hi, Kathryn, it’s Nika. Ah, it’s Saturday and I wanted to let you know there’s something wrong with my cell, just in case you ah, wanted to call. I had a really great time last night and I’d really like to see you again. I don’t have a home phone or I’d leave you the number … Um, that’s it I guess, Oh, I suppose if it’s an emergency you can call me at work, see you, bye."

I leaned back and sighed. She wouldn’t be working on the weekend, so I’d have to wait to call her. Showing up at her apartment would be a bad idea this early on, as much as I’d love to.

************

Four days since I talked to her, four days of wondering, four days of hiding out. I can’t stop thinking about her. My regular Thursday pick-up, she’s not on the mezzanine level. There’s a public phone near the elevators, when I reach it I realize that I don’t even know her number. I call 411, get the number for the main switchboard… they’ll never connect me, they’re the first line of defense. Anyone with any right to call the President of Ridgeway would at least have her assistants’ number. I take the elevator back down to the loading bay, then an idea hits me. Ten minutes later I’m waiting patiently at Ridgecorp’s main reception. The young man behind the desk is clearly flustered with my request, he smiles politely while he waits for his page to be answered. He jabs the phone console and half turns away from me. I try to act disinterested, I’m just a courier trying to do her job. "Well I know, it’s so strange! Um-hmmm, oh, ok, oh I should have thought of that. Thank you so much." He turns back, purses his lips and scrutinizes me for a brief moment before the polite smile is back. Someone will be here to escort you, please have a seat." I prefer to stand but I walk over to the sleek black leather chairs and pretend to look at the huge abstract painting on the wall. What the hell am I doing here? This is ridiculous, I’m acting like a stalker! A very large man in black suit strides up to me he looks like a rockstar’s bodyguard. He stares hard at me clearly trying to intimidate.

"Come with me please." He says and indicates a door on the opposite wall. He escorts me down a long blank corridor through a door that leads to a mailroom. The employees bustling around stop what they are doing to look at us. "Put the package on the conveyor please." I’m impressed that he actually said please. After he has x-rayed the envelope he hands it back to me. "Everything looks in order." He extends his arm suggesting I go back the way we came. He takes me back past main reception, we climb up three flights of glass stairs to another reception area. A woman with short perky black hair and diamond shaped glasses is standing in front of the low desk. She smirks at me and says "well this must be an awfully important package." While extending her hand. I stare at her confused, regretting I ever came up with this idea.

"I was told to deliver it only into the hands of Kathryn Ridgeway." I say.

"Well that would be me." She puts a petite hand on her hip looking impatient.

"I’m sorry, but …"

"Sheila, do you have those reports…" Kathryn walks up looking distracted and gorgeous. She sees me clutching the damned envelope standing next to steroid boy and something happens to her face. It’s very subtle and I wonder if the other two see it, her eyes are suddenly a darker blue, her skin slightly flushed "What’s going on?"

"Some sort of new priority package, she won’t give it to anyone but you." The woman states. Kathryn sighs and looks at me, her face is unreadable and suddenly I’m afraid I’ve really fucked up by coming here.

"Come with me." She tips her head and smiles a little as she walks past me. The bodyguard follows, she turns and stops him her hand very briefly on his chest.

"Thank-you Mr …"

"Marcus Johnson, Ma’am"

"Mr. Johnson, please wait here. You’re doing a very good job. I’ll be sure to let your supervisors know how seriously you take your work. Perhaps you could escort," she glances at my name-tag, "Nika, back downstairs in a few moments."

"Yes Ma’am." Marcus replies with a subtle smile. Kathryn leads me back around the corner through a code access door to a large corner office. She closes the clear glass door behind us and walks behind the desk.

"Is this something important or are you just here to see me?" She smirks and her eyes sparkle, as she rips open the envelope and slides the papers out.

"I just wanted to see you, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I’d cause a security red alert."

"Don’t worry about it, I’m still getting used to the beefy security myself. It’s really good to see you, I’ve been trying your phone." Her softened voice catches me by surprise, I can’t help but smile.

"I’ve been thinking about you a lot, your Number is on my cell, and it’s pretty fried. I hope you don’t mind me showing up like this."

"I like your initiative, I didn’t even have the guts to call you at work, but I really wanted to hear your voice." We smile at each other and I know that it’s a good thing her desk is between us. "Darling, I haven’t much time right now, but can we have dinner?"

"Yes."

"Can I pick you up? Around 7:30, is that too late?"

"That’s fine"

"It is so very good to see you Nika."

"It’s great to see you."

"I think you’d better go, do you mind if I don’t walk you out?"

"Wouldn’t that be some sort of security breech?"

"Maybe, but this way I get to watch you go." She’s so damned sexy when she smirks.

"I’ll see you later then." I wink at her as a turn to go. In the elevator with Marcus I wonder if I should tell her what’s really going on with my phone, or would that be too much truth too soon?

Part 4