Mr. S

Mr. S is here to see you”, the receptionist announced to her. She looked up absent-mindedly from her flickering laptop screen, twirling her hair around her index finger. Her legs were stretched out beneath her, her body ensconced in a well-fitted striped skirt and black blouse. She stood up, slipped her bare feet into her suede kitten-heeled pumps and fluffed her hair. Applied her lipstick, smacked her lips and strutted off to the meeting room with a stack of documents in her arms. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the meeting room, his back facing her, appraising the firm’s elegant taste in furnishing. She coughed to announce her arrival. He turned and launched upon her the full magnificence of his beauty. A strong, arrogant head set on a proud neck, with an aquiline nose and piercing brown eyes, hope and promise swimming in their depths. She faltered. Her heart swelled beneath her breast, a sharp intake of breath. “Hello”, his voice resonated within the room. They shook hands. As he signed the documents she gave to him, she stared at his breath-taking profile, watched his hand move over the paper in a single, looped stroke. Longing to touch his face.