It was a padded landing, but I suddenly caught the odor of used athletic wear. Socks, underwear, shirts, all stinking and reeking of hard play. The ba... was tied shut and then I was lifted up and carried somewhere else. We may have gone outside. But the bag was dropped and I was left alone. I may have heard a car door slam shut nearby, but nothing was moving. I was feeling queasy from the fumes, lack of food, and the remains of a hangover. I may have slept.I’m sure I did, in fact, because I woke. She looked around the room and set her purse down on the little table by the window, but she didn’t take off her coat. She wasn’t looking at him and was just standing there in silence as he watched her. ‘Morgan… I shouldn’t be here. I knew that as I drove over here. I love my husband and I love my children, but I needed to talk to you again.’ She turned to look at him. Her eyes, as always tore through him to the very core of his soul. ‘You know that there can never be an ‘us’, you and I. You. Picking up the phone I just told him that I would be at the club in fifteen minutes. Putting the phone down, I put on a fresh shirt with a sigh, reminding myself to ask Frank about his clothes changing trick. Picking up my phone, I went towards the window of my room and jumped off its ledge with a nonchalance that the me of yesterday would have great trouble believing.I reached the club and almost immediately was greeted with the stares of the various people already present there. Something. She recommended a nice cozy Italian restaurant in the area. I called Terry and she thought it sounded good. I was elated.I got dressed as the time approached. I thought I looked sharp in a casual collared shirt and slacks. I said my good-byes to my sister and the kids.The directions my sister gave me were good. I arrived at the restaurant and told the Maitre d' I was waiting on another party.Almost immediately Terry walked in. She looked absolutely stunning in her white dress. Her red lipstick.
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