Happy ever ... after

Chapter 9

The light depression of the weekend vanish. Today, she was going to see him. It may just be for coffee, only half an hour, but it showed how much he wanted to see her again. That was priceless.

She stood in front of the mirror in her underwear, looking at her body. Once again, the choreography of a clothes trial would take place. Except this time, she knew what to pick: a pair of black trousers and a light grey sweater. Today would be nothing more than an ordinary day at work, the same as every other day. He should be able to feel comfortable with a working woman. Today was not intended for seduction but for the truth. He had to see her and appreciate her as she really was, not all dolled up for a beauty pageant.

Although, it was nice to be an ordinary, working woman and everything, a little attraction wouldn't hurt, would it? In all these years, she had forgotten to be feminine. A little mascara and some red lipstick would add some elegance and raise her corporate look.

She suddenly realised that perhaps he, too, would be anxious about seeing her. Was he nervous as well this morning?

She wondered if this second date would be as good as the first. After all, they both had the obligation of going to the office afterwards. This denied them any chance of the sort of sensual ending that had, quite pleasantly, concluded their first date. This would probably change the atmosphere of the whole meeting. Maybe everything was going to stop there and then. He would see her as the woman she was and not through the rosy filter that alcohol had provided last time. He would be disappointed by the harsh reality, and he would leave the coffee shop, never to contact her ever again.

Sombre thoughts kept tormenting her until she arrived at the coffee shop, early as per usual. She hated being late for important appointments, always keen to draw as little attention as possible. A table was free, which offered a direct view of the entrance. Perfect – she would be sure to see him come in. Learning from experience, she knew better than to wait idly. Instead of falling in a downward spiral of fears, she extracted a notepad from her bag. A quick and firm gesture divided the first available page into two columns. At the top, she drew two arithmetic signs, a plus on the left and a minus on the right. She began with the left column, starting to list all the positive points she could enumerate about Olivier. It was an effective way to chase away bad ideas. After all, if things went wrong, she would have the whole day to fill the other column.

She had reached the seventh item when she felt a presence. She raised her head as if to breathe after swimming too deep into her notebook. The young man standing in front of her offered a broad and beautiful smile.

'Hello, mademoiselle. Can I sit down with you?'

She nodded and smiled. It was him; he had come; he was there. Her timidity crippled her, and she could only offer him the empty seat with a wave of her hand.

Before sitting down, however, he bent to kiss her. Gently, languorously, like a man would kiss a woman he cared about.

'You look lovely today.'

'Thank you; it's just my regular office clothes.'

Her cheeks were burning hot. Breathing in slowly, she mentally added his gallantry to the left-hand column. This reminded her that the notebook was still in plain sight. She snapped it closed and threw it back in her bag.

'Were you working?'

'Oh, just jotting down a few ideas that I didn't want to forget.'

'Well, let me get you some coffee. Which type you fancy?'

'Tall, chestnut eyes and a French accent.'

All was well, a little confidence was coming back to her.