The Nanman

The Nanman - Chapter 7

7.

By 5:30 Cecile had visited three more businesses including the YMCA where she taught aquatic yoga to seniors, and her own personal studio where she taught three advanced yoga classes. Mondays were always lucrative. She had also found time to empty her joint accounts and redeposit them into a new account in her name only. Then she put back twenty dollars in one joint account just to see if Frank was desperate enough to take it and provide her with his location. At 5:00 she called her lawyer and began divorce proceedings.

When most people were having dinner and watching the news, she was standing on the steps to the Delgato Biochemical Corporation. She felt less a superstar than she had setting up the meeting with Mark Sanders in the morning. She had been inspired to manipulate and tease this man for a little fun and intrigue in an otherwise clockwork life, give or take a missing husband and baby-sitter. Now, after ten hours of nonstop business, her tea had worn off, and she just wanted to put her feet up.

The front desk was abandoned. She found a lobby directory sign and couldn't help but notice that Ingrid Daniels, her nanman’s ex, had an office next to Mr. Sanders. That was convenient; she’d love to know what the woman looked like.

She took the elevator to the third floor. Only a few people were still working. The building was modern with cubicles recently erected, and the carpeting no older than a year. Such decor meant one of two things in the business world: the business was booming or about to fold. She put her chips on booming.

The carpet hid her footfalls well. She wasn't exactly sneaking, but she walked discreetly on her toes and slowly, trying to see what she could see before she was seen. Near the corner office of the CEO she heard voices, a woman with a low sultry voice, and a man with a firm Humphrey Bogart no-nonsense tone. She recognized both voices from her morning phone conversations. She could just see them through the blinds, embraced tightly.

Ingrid—it must have been Ingrid—wore a dark red dress, cut to show off well-defined arm muscles and pert but small breasts. Her hair was dyed black, with matching eyebrows and eyelashes, which contrasted dramatically with her small rose lips.

Humphrey…ah…Mark—Cecile hoped she didn't make that mistake when she greeted them—wore a coal black suit which he filled to near busting. His skin was Mediterranean tan, his eyes green and beautiful. She caught her breath a little. He was more of a man than she had suspected, and Ingrid more stunning of a woman. Together they were a Rockefeller centerfold, and Cecile could see why working together had made sparks fly, maybe even lightning bolts. The passion and need between them was visible.

She felt her heart give a little tug of yearning. Isn't this what she wanted, a man crazy in love with her? She could feel her body soften at the thought, but no, that door was locked.

Cecile sighed, and cleared her throat loudly. When she saw the two lovers separate, she walked into the doorway.

“Hi, I'm Cecile O'Brien, I have a meeting with Mark Sanders at 5:30.” Cecile had dressed in character, with tight elastic exercise shorts that hid nothing and announced that she had nothing to hide. The compressive jogging bra she had abandoned at last minute. Instead she wore a cleavage-making black bra barely covered under a pastel green shirt that clung tightly to her midsection and flowed loosely at the wrists and hips. The evening was warm outside, so her outfit did not seem underdone. She had considered fancier shoes, but she loved her loose sandals.

Cecile hoped for some visible reaction from Mark, but he impressed her with his cool glance disturbed only by a slight upturn at the corners of his lips. Ingrid, on the other hand, instantly saw competition and her eyes turned hard and dark.