The Lunchtime Special

Chapter 8 - Riesling or Merlot?

The hotel lobby is empty as I make my way to the bank of lifts, stabbing at the call button distractedly as I can't shift my thoughts from Mia. So many memories of the evening are jumbling over and over in my head.

She's smart; I love that her ideas challenge me and that she isn't afraid to contradict me or encourage me to look at things from a different viewpoint.

She is also funny as hell, able to see the ridiculous in a situation and not afraid to poke fun at herself. Her husky, throaty laugh is equally as addictive as her peeling giggles and I had found myself holding my breath whenever she did either.

I like that she's passionate about her business and not afraid of hard work; I had been quite sincere in my admiration of her sustaining a viable enterprise in the current economic climate.

Initially taken by surprise by her sassiness, it's now become incredibly appealing. The quips she'd made at the dinner with Will, Laila and mater as well as her playfulness when I'd helped with the painting at her house demonstrated not only a quick mind and sharp wit, but also that she doesn't take herself too seriously.

And her kisses! Holy hell. The lift arrives and I'm riding up three floors on my own, thankfully, as I groan aloud at the memory of her in my arms, soft and pliant and so damn sexy. When we held hands I felt like a schoolboy again, shy and uncertain, but when she'd moaned into my mouth and pressed her breasts against me, it was all I could do to remember we were in a public area.

Once in my room I pace for a while, wanting to call her just to hear her voice, but she's driving so I can't. I'm already counting down the hours until I can see her again; talk to her, hold her, kiss her. My thoughts turn to where those kisses could lead – my hands on her soft curves, my tongue making her writhe and moan beneath me – and I groan, running a hand through my hair. Toeing off my shoes and socks, I begin to disrobe and head for the bathroom, badly in need of a shower – the colder, the better.

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My meetings yesterday had been follow-up visits with two clients, auditing the systems that had been designed for them, analysing and resolving any issues that had arisen. For the most part they had gone smoothly, with only one or two minor adjustments to operating system code needed to ensure software ran more efficiently.

Today, though, I am meeting with a new client with very specific needs; a company in Leichardt where the majority of employees have disabilities, for whom standard designs of both computer hardware and software are not always easy to use. My task is to discuss how the computer platform – incorporating not only input and output media and drivers but also the system software tools used by applications – can be made directly accessible. That may involve working in cooperation with the hardware manufacturers to redesign the hardware to facilitate the connection and use of special access tools for individuals with more severe impairments, while any adjustments to the basic operating system itself can be handled by our software specialists.

I'm here for an overview visit really, to get a feel for the company and what they are trying to achieve, to understand how they use the computerised systems they already have in place and what outcomes they're looking for. Once I've gotten a general idea I'll put together a team of experts and we'll come back, getting into finer specifics, discussing their vision in depth with the CEO Geoff Landers and his staff before we can strategize and get to work designing systems for them, implementing them into the workplace and then following up with a systems audit.

It's a visit that requires complete concentration and focus as well as a great deal of patience and empathy when many of the staff have severe communication difficulties, so it's not until we break for lunch that my thoughts are free to wander again to Mia. As Geoff leads me to the staff cafeteria, a movement at the edge of my vision instantly reminds me of the way she tilts her head just before coming out with some sass; I'd noticed it first at the dinner when she'd brought up the strip club, then again with the paint-on-the-shoe discussion we had at her house as well as last night when she talked about The Godfather. That small gesture was equal parts adorable and sinful and fitted her personality perfectly; the parts of it I'd learned so far, anyway. I have a feeling there are many more layers to her fascination and know a strong desire to explore each and every one. Briefly I wonder if she's aware of how flirtatious her sassiness is; if it's a deliberate ploy or something she is completely unaware of. I can't wait to see more.