Finding the One Ch. 02

This is the second chapter of an eight chapter story. I recommend starting with chapter one.

While the first few chapters could easily be categorised differently - erotic couplings - I put them into Romance because of the over-all theme. It will become more romantic in later chapters.

My thanks go to Joffa for providing his spelling and grammar expertise. His help is highly appreciated. If any errors remain, I'm sure they happened after his editing.

Please vote and/or leave comments. It is your feedback which fuels my motivation.

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Ch. 02: A Cougar on the run

I arrived downtown at the building where my potential customer had his offices an hour early. I always did that for several reasons. One was to make sure I wasn't late under any circumstances. Another one was to have time for coffee and go through the presentation one last time. And the last one was because of superstition. I had been an hour early, due to a misunderstanding, for the meeting with my first potential customer but the presentation had gone super smooth and the first contract was signed the very same day.

I went to a restaurant a few doors away, took a table at the window and pulled the printed version of presentation out of my laptop case. From the corner of my eye, I saw the waitress approach, so I turned the print-outs over to make sure she wouldn't be able to read anything. She seemed familiar but I couldn't really place her.

When she reached my table, she was smiling widely. I noticed that the smile didn't stop at the corners of her mouth but reached up to her eyes making them sparkle like diamonds. Deep, green diamonds with brown freckles scattered within. 'I could get lost in those eyes' went through my mind just as she arrived and started speaking.

"Are you on a mission again?" the waitress asked.

I looked at her, confused, not understanding the question, "Excuse me?"

"I wondered if you are on a mission to get your nephew laid again," she clarified and then it dawned on me. She was the girl from the club.

"A different mission, but yes, I am on a mission again. But this time for the company," I replied with a friendly but professional smile.

"Time to have a drink with me afterwards?" she replied looking hopeful.

"Unfortunately no. I'll meet the customer in less than an hour and need to go through the presentation once more. And afterwards, we're most likely going for lunch together."

"How about Saturday afternoon, then?"

"Already booked with my niece's football match."

"Come on, you got to help me a little," she requested.

"Listen, you seem to be a nice person but I'm awfully busy. I have a company to run, lots of customers to visit and very little time for anything else. Could you just get me a coffee and let me focus on my presentation?" I blocked her off despite being flattered by her insistence.

She understood she wouldn't get me to agree to anything so she left with a professional "Sure."

She returned with the coffee a short time later and after placing it in front of me she said, "The coffee is on me as a thank you for the drink in the club. And my contact info is there just in case you find a free afternoon some day and think it might be a good time to have a drink with me."

Before I had time to formulate an answer she had left. I looked at the piece of paper where she had written down her phone number and her email-address with a short note, 'Just for a drink and a chat. Call! Please!' I couldn't stop the corners of my mouth to twitch slightly upwards and put the note in the breast pocket of my shirt before I returned my focus to the presentation.

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The presentation was a success and while there was no signed contract at the end of the meeting they agreed to let us handle their IT security by handshake and the paperwork would be taken care of later. I invited them for lunch just to learn that they had already arranged lunch for all participants. They took me to the very same restaurant where I had drunk a coffee just three hours earlier. I hoped that my pursuer wouldn't be on duty anymore but my luck had run out.

After we were seated by the Maître d', she approached our table, "Welcome to our restaurant. My name is Melissa and I will be your waitress for the lunch. Would you like an appetiser to start? I can highly recommend the Kir Royale."

She was utterly professional and did a very good job. Not once did she indicate that we had met before, saving me from answering questions to my new customers she assumed I didn't want to answer. I gave her a big credit for this.

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All too soon the busy work week was over and, as I had promised, I attended Diana's football match. As Andrea had seen the opportunity to treat herself to a day of window shopping with a friend of hers, I took Pat with me. During the half time break, we left the stand in order to get something to drink.

"Have you spoken to the girl from the club? What was her name? Britt?"

"It's Barbara or Barb for short and yes. We met for a coffee on Thursday but whatever connection we felt at the club was not there anymore. We chatted a bit and said we'd call but I think we both knew it was just polite talk," Pat replied disappointed.

"Don't worry. In bars and clubs, you usually meet bed bunnies, not girlfriends."

"So where do you meet girlfriends, then?"

He tried to sound casual but I felt he was really curious for my answer. His father had died before he became interested in these kind of questions and now he had no male role model except for me to refer to.

"I'm thirty years old and haven't had one single successful relationship. Do you really think I'm the right one to ask?" I dodged the question.

"I have no one else to ask and there is no one I trust more than you."

"Thanks, that means a lot to me. And you know you can talk to me about anything you don't want to talk to your Mom about? No matter what, I will always have an open ear for you and will not condemn you."

"I know. That's why I'm asking. I'm eighteen years old and haven't had a steady girlfriend yet."

I sighed, "You won't like my answer."

"Try me!"

"As you insist, here is my advice. Be nice to your sister."

"What? Why? She is such a pain in the ass."

"You've not exactly been nice to her either. I don't say you can't make fun of her every now and then or that you have to be her personal slave. Just small things. Is she having difficulties getting something from a high shelf? Get it for her. Is she failing at opening a jar of marmalade? Open it for her. Is she carrying her heavy bag for a football match? Take it from her. Did she earn a good mark on a test? Compliment her on it. Don't wait for a thank you. Do it and go on with whatever you did."

"What? Why? How should that help?"

"Most women want a gentleman, not a cave man, a man who respects them and treats them nicely. At least the smart ones do."

"And how should this help to get me a girlfriend? I don't want to date my sister!" he said with disgust on his face.

"It's called marketing. Your sister has friends, most of them are female. After a few weeks, she will start telling her friends how mature, friendly and helpful you have become. They will get curious and within no time you will be seen as potential boyfriend material. But nothing you do will achieve anything if you don't treat all women with respect."

"And this works?" Pat looked at me doubtfully.

A voice from behind us interrupted us, "This is the best piece of advice I have ever heard in my entire life. If more fathers gave such good advice to their sons, the world would be a much better place."

Surprised we turned around. The woman that had spoken was a rather attractive woman who seemed to be in her late thirties or maybe early forties. She had dyed blond hair and from what I could see without checking her out, a rather trim body. She extended her hand to me.

"Hi, I'm Claire."

I took her hand. "Hi, my name is Marc," I put a hand on my nephew's shoulder, "and this is Pat."

"He's my uncle, not my father," Pat blurted out. I squeezed his shoulder and shot him a look of discontent.

"What are you doing here except to give this young man so sound advice?" Claire asked.

"My niece, his sister, is playing and we are here to support her and give their mother a day off."

"So your wife is waiting on the stand?"

"No, it's just the two of us, plus my niece, of course, today. And why are you here?" I tried to move the conversation towards something else than me.

"My daughter is playing for the home team. Is somebody waiting at home or anywhere else?" she brushed my attempts of a change of topics easily aside.

"No, he's single," Pat said before I could stop him. I would really need to talk to him about volunteering information about me.

"Unfortunately, the three of us already have plans for the afternoon and the evening." I squeezed Pat's shoulder to make sure, he wouldn't object, "It has been a long time since I found time for them and I intend to make it up to them today," I blocked her advancements.

She smiled friendly, "You see, Pat, he's turning me down, but he does it respectfully and politely. At least I know that he is the uncle of one of my daughter's team mates."

We had finally arrived at the beverage stand.

"Let me get you something to drink for your help in getting my point across."

"I'll have a Diet Coke, please."

I turned to the vendor and ordered one Diet and one regular Coke as well as a bottle of water for myself, paid and handed the sweet drinks to Claire and Pat while I kept the water.

"The break's almost over. We'll head back to the stand. Enjoy the rest of the match, Claire," I stated to communicate that I didn't want her to join us.

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After the match, our team won four nil, we were waiting outside the dressing rooms for Diana. Claire was standing a few yards away and gave us a friendly wave. Her daughter came out before Diana. They didn't go directly to their car but lingered around. Claire tried to point inconspicuously in my direction. She failed. I turned my back towards them and continued to talk with Pat about the latest school works. A few minutes later Diana came out.

"Uncle!" she jumped into my arms.

"Diana, good match, well played," I complimented her. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Claire and her daughter leave. I sighed inwardly being quite sure that this wasn't the last I had seen of Claire but at least I knew she wouldn't find out my phone number or my address.

As I wanted to take her sports bag I noticed that Pat had already taken it. I suppressed a smile; I didn't want to embarrass him.

"Yeah, well played, Sis. The first of your two goals was really a beauty as that was not an easy position to score from," Pat commented on her performance.

Diana looked a bit surprised but replied quickly, "Thanks, Pat. And yeah, I am quite proud of that one. And thanks for carrying my bag."

"I thought you might be too tired to carry it yourself after standing around on the playing field for eighty-eight of the ninety minutes," he grinned at her while turning towards the car.

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Contrary to the excuse I had given to Claire we did not have any plans for the day as I saw both Pat and Diana at least every other week so there was nothing to make up for. As I was alone for the evening I decided to hit the gym after a light dinner.

I was nearing the end of the third repetition when Paul, one of the owners of the gym and a close friend of mine, approached me.

"Hey, Marc. Saturday evening and you hit the gym? No date? No heart to break?"

"Eighteen, nineteen, twenty," I finished the leg press. "Hey Paul, I'm just hiding here from the hordes of women chasing after me. I am hoping for your protection in case they find me," I countered while wiping the sweat from my face using the towel provided by the club.

"What's up next?"

"The treadmill. I thought I'd make a few miles to end the day. Want to join me?"

"I can't. I still have a few customers to look after but how about a drink at the bar downstairs afterwards?"

"Sounds good. What time are you off?"

"Another hour, a quick shower and then I'm ready."

"Ok. I'll get some running under my belt and meet you downstairs when you're ready."

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Paul was the stereotypical fitness instructor. Good looking, muscular, always smiling and charming. As we sat chatting at the bar, both with a bottle of water in front of us, we noticed two young women who chatted animatedly and inched closer by the minute. They both seemed to be in their early twenties. They wore short black skirts, coloured tank tops and heels. Paul inconspicuously nodded towards them.

"I've seen them before. If the rumours I heard are true and you play your cards right, you might be in for an interesting night. But be warned, don't trust their innocent behaviour for a single second," he remarked with a grin.

"Thanks for the warning. But I'm not really looking for someone to bed tonight," I acknowledged his warning and continued our discussions on potential solutions to all the world's big problems.

Shortly after the girl I had labelled 'Red' due to her tank top lightly bumped into me, "I'm sorry, I seem to be a bit tipsy."

"No damage done, I'm not that fragile," I replied and turned back to Paul to resume our talking.

The girls remained close to us chatting together and after a few minutes 'Yellow' bumped into Paul.

"Oops. I'm sorry but we seem to keep bumping into each other tonight," she said with laughter in her bright, sparkling eyes.

"No, problem. We can handle a few bumps," Paul replied also ignoring the flirtatious behaviour and turning back to me.

It didn't take 'red' long to lose her patience and, without the pretence of accidentally bumping into one of us, she started speaking.

"Hey, guys. What are you up to tonight?"

Paul raised his left hand and wiggled the wedding ring with his thumb, "Just two friends enjoying a drink together after their work out before returning to our beloved wives."

"Too bad. Have a nice life, guys."

"Bye, girls," Paul replied.

"Maybe I should start wearing a fake wedding ring because that really shot them down," I said after they were out of earshot.

"Or maybe you could stop shooting down every woman that tries to get to know you and actually find one to love. I'm sure there are many candidates out there."

"Shut up, Paul. Helen has been nagging about this since I broke up with Anna."

"Anna? Who's Anna?"

"Nobody important. Another failed attempt at a relationship. The daughter of the owner of an acquisition target. I was a real asshole."

"What did you do? Abduct her and demand ransom?"

"Of course not. But I thought I could keep the private and business aspects separated."

"Now you're making me curious."

"I was wrong. To cut an embarrassing story short, I broke up with her after we had a bust up during a business meeting at a restaurant. I think I've been cured of this whole relationship thing for good."

"You are totally clueless. I've been married for three years now and I tell you there is nothing nicer than coming home to somebody who cares about you and you care about. Don't give up. The right one for you will come along."

"After fifteen years of looking for a woman to have a serious relationship with, it's probably time to accept defeat. That's ok. It lets me focus on my company and avoid another mess like the one with Anna."

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After a late breakfast on Sunday, I went into the garden to get some work done on it. While the lawn was mowed by a robot, the hedge still needed cutting and in the seating area, the weeds needed to be cleaned out from between the stone slabs. I donned some knee-length shorts and a muscle shirt and set out working. I always enjoyed gardening as it provided a counterweight to my office job. I was almost done with the hedge when I heard a woman call my name.

"Marc! Hi!"

I looked up and spotted Claire looking around the corner on my front porch. I had known that this woman was up to no good. But I didn't expect her to track me down so fast. I wasn't easy to find as my phone number and address were not published anywhere. I also made sure that I never used my private address anywhere I could avoid it.

"Hi, Claire. Come in. Or out. Or over. Or whatever describes it best!" I shouted back and waved her onwards.

She came into the garden with a bottle of wine in one hand and a Tupperware box with what seemed to be cookies in the other. She crossed the ten yards over the lawn towards me and leant in for the three kisses on the cheeks that are usually shared when welcoming somebody. I leant backwards, avoiding skin contact.

"Claire, I'm all sweaty and dirty. Better don't touch me."

"I'm not afraid of a bit of sweat. In fact, I'm getting all sweaty from seeing you in that shirt," she flirted, ignoring my retreat and leant further forward demanding the kisses. I complied and welcomed her the way she wanted.

"What can I do for you, Claire?"

"Well, I brought a bottle of wine and some cookies and hoped you would keep me company and share them with me."

I didn't see a polite way out of this so I tried to win some time.

"Sure, why not? Just let me get a shower and put on some clean clothes first."

"If you give me a bottle opener I can prepare the wine," she replied with a beautiful smile that lit up her bright green eyes.

While we walked towards the seating area I checked her out. Five foot five, slender if not even a bit wiry, large breasts, possibly fake, and her dyed blond hair were the most obvious features. She wore a light summer skirt with a floral pattern and a rose blouse. She didn't hide her body but she didn't advertise the goods in a plump manner either. I led Claire to the kitchen to get her a bottle opener.

"What is a bachelor like you doing with such a house? This was made for a family!"

"Well, I like the garden work and the view from the upper terrace is stunning," I said before I realised that I almost forced her to ask to see the view. "But mostly it was just an opportunity that presented itself to me."

Claire watched around the living room while we passed through it.

"No plants, no paintings or pictures, no decorations. Just some sketches for processes, mind maps and a few white boards with work notes. This house could really need the hand of a woman to make it cosier."

"It is equipped for lowest possible maintenance," I replied defensively. "No plants dying of thirst, no dust catchers but open surfaces for the robot vacuum and a cleaning help once every other week to take care of the bathrooms, dusting and the windows. I spend the better part of my days in the office. I don't want to waste my time at home maintaining my house."

We had arrived in the kitchen where I opened a drawer and got the bottle opener out.

"Here you go. I'll just go upstairs for a quick shower. Why don't you wait in the garden? I'll back in a few minutes."

"Let me see the view from the upper terrace first," she interposed.

"If you promise not to look into the bedrooms. It's a bit untidy up there as nobody but me uses the upper floor," I tried to persuade her to not come upstairs.

"Really? Maybe it's time to put that upper floor to a good use then," she insisted with a telling grin on her face. She already led me towards the stairs and I realised that I was being outplayed. I knew where this would end unless I stopped her rudely. But I didn't really want to. She was good looking and had an easy personality. She was old enough to know what she was doing and she had clearly set out to enjoy me as her Sunday roast.

I led her through my bedroom out on the terrace which offers a formidable view of the mountains and the lake. "Over there you have the Fractured Mountains. In winter you can see Mount Anog behind these trees there but now in summer the leaves are in the way."