The phone rang, breaking Sara from her reverie. She blinked her eyes twice, clearing her mind, glanced around her office, and picked up on the second ring.
"Good morning, this is Sara." It was an automatic response.
"Miss Zaad, it's Linda." The receptionist insisted on calling everyone by their last names, a habit Sara had tried to break her of since she started two weeks ago. "Mr. Gibbons is here to see you."
"Thank you, Linda." Sara powered off her laptop. "Tell him I'll be out to see him in a moment."
"Certainly, Miss Zaad." The line went dead.
Sara stopped in the bathroom to touch up her makeup and check herself in the full length mirror one more time before meeting Kevin for the first time. She applied more lipstick and touched up her mascara, and then brushed her hair out quick. She puckered her lips at herself in the mirror, then checked her outfit. She had decided against a suit and instead wore a short, black skirt that ended several inches above her knees, just covering the thigh-high stockings she wore to make her feel sexy, and her favorite black, strappy heels. The bright blue, silk blouse was cut so low it nearly showed her bra; the color complemented her eyes nicely. Her earrings were dangling silver hoops with vertical black cylinders through the center that matched the choker wrapped tightly around her neck, rows of black cylinders held together by silver wire. She smiled at her reflection, a little business, a little casual, a little sexy, all woman. It was time to meet Kevin and seal the deal.
Sara strode confidently into the reception area past Linda's desk, and promptly lost her composure when she saw the man waiting for her. He stood by the window, gazing out at the tree-lined street, and she had a perfect view of his profile. He was tall, deeply tanned and ruggedly handsome, with short-cropped, tightly curled black hair. His eyes were blue-green, the color of a bright forest pond. His dark suit was tailored to his muscular form beneath, and when he turned to her he flashed a smile filled with perfect, white teeth. He gave no hint of recognition, but it was him, her mysterious woodsman, here, in her office, in a suit, and with a new haircut.
"Sara?" He extended his hand.
Sara nodded, dumbfounded. He had to recognize her; there was no way he couldn't. They had stared into each others eyes while he was sheathed inside her, he had watched her writhe beneath him, witnessed her earth-shaking orgasm. But he made no indication that he knew her. It was as if they were meeting for the first time. She pushed her hand out towards him slowly, a response to his offered handshake over which she had no conscious control.
He shook Sara's limply extended hand, and she noticed something different. Her woodsman had heavy calluses on his hands; these hands were as soft as her own. But there was no mistaking that face. She had dreamed of it several times. She knew that face, knew that body. It was him, and now he had a name.
"Are you alright?" Kevin stopped shaking her hand, but kept his hold on it. He was staring at her, concern written across his features.
"Yes, I…" Sara tried to cover her gawking. "I'm sorry. You look a lot like someone I know."
"That's funny," Kevin said, his voice light. "I feel like I've met you before as well." He smiled at her then, and she knew the game he was playing.
"I get that all the time," she said, playing it off. If he was going to feign ignorance, she could do it, too. She slipped her hand from his grasp.
He smiled again, and Sara felt something inside her melt. "You scared me for a minute there. You looked like you'd seen a ghost."
Sara felt heat rush into her face and knew she was blushing. "I really am sorry." She brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Well, if that's behind us," he paused, taking a deep breath, "where do we begin?"
"We can grab a cup of coffee and go upstairs to meet Jerry, or we can get right to the tour and catch up with him later." Sara was regaining her poise. Now that she understood that they were playing the 'we've never met' game, it would be easier.
"Let's get to the tour. I'm as anxious to get this contract signed as you are." He undid the buttons on his suit coat, letting it hang open. "I know it means a lot of money for your company, but it also represents a significant savings for us. If this works out, we're both going to be getting pats on the back."
Sara imagined getting much more than a pat on the back from her mysterious woodsman. He looked good shaggy and unkempt, and even better clean cut and in a suit. She could feel a flush coming over her body; just looking at him was turning her on. She remembered his magic hands exciting her with a mere ankle massage. She remembered him atop her, his steady thrusting inside her, his eyes locked on hers while they slowly moved together in the grass. She remembered his fingers probing between her legs, his hand wrapped in her hair, his lips pressed against hers.
She shook herself free from her daydreams and memories and smiled up at him. "Let's start in design."
She led him through the facility, showed him every aspect of their production, from the design and production planning department, through the production floor, the clean rooms, quality control, and ended up in packaging and shipping. It took them nearly three hours and two cups of coffee to complete the tour.
Kevin was beaming as they took the elevator to the fourth floor to meet Jerry. "This looks great. I don't see any problems here. As long as the first run passes our QC inspectors, I think we're in business."
"Fantastic." Sara was brimming with desire. She had wanted him before the tour began, but now she was dying to touch him. Playing along with his game was torture.
They got off the elevator at the executive floor and headed straight to Jerry's office. Kevin represented the single largest new account brought into the company in years, and as such, Jerry wanted to impress him. He talked, and talked, and talked some more. Kevin was gracious and polite, laughing at Jerry's off-color jokes and responding with enthusiasm to the same boring, old stories that Sara had heard more times than she could count. Sara was a twisted ball of lust, barely keeping herself from leaping on Kevin and tearing off his clothes.
Jerry took them to Pomodoro's for lunch, a charming little restaurant outside of downtown, where he continued talking. They returned to the office where they finally signed their agreement and Jerry talked some more. Sara felt her heart thump when the ink was on the contract. She had done it. Without using her looks or body at all, she had sealed the biggest deal of her life. She felt like celebrating, but instead had to endure more of Jerry's incessant chatter.
By the time the schmoozing was over, it was quarter to five. Jerry was finally winding down after offering to take Kevin golfing tomorrow morning before his flight left that afternoon to return him to Chicago. He had his secretary arrange a tee time at Oak Hill Country Club, and immediately after getting confirmation from her, leapt from his chair.
"I almost forgot, my in-laws are in town tonight. My wife will kill me if I'm late for dinner." Jerry pulled on his coat and buttoned it over his round midsection.
Kevin stood to shake his hand.
"Kevin, I'm afraid I won't be able to show you around town." He glanced at Sara, a smile splitting his face. "I'll leave you in Sara's capable hands."
"I'm sure she can show me a good time." Kevin looked at her, something unidentifiable moving behind his eyes.
Sara rose as well, her eyes locked on Kevin. It was the first acknowledgement he had made of their previous encounters, even if it was veiled in niceties. She hoped the raging need within her wasn't showing through.
"Take him where ever he wants to go," Jerry said. "On me, of course."
"I'd be happy to take care of Kevin." Sara smiled as well, hoping he caught her meaning. She thought her legs would start shaking at any moment to match the quivering she felt inside.
Jerry came around his desk and shook Kevin's hand. "Sara's my top girl here. You're in good hands."
"I'm sure I am." Kevin clasped Jerry's hand. "Get home; you don't want to get in hot water with your wife. We'll be fine."