An Illicit Love

What. The. Hell. Just. Happened. Catie brought the car to an unsteady halt off the tarmac on the shoulder of the road. Thigh muscles shuddering, heart thudding dizzily fast, right foot struggling to keep the pressure on the brake pedal constant as she slowed to an unsteady halt. Really?? She who prided herself of being in control of almost any situation? Cars whizzing by on the road shook the Catie’s car where she sat trying to make sense of the past half hour. The occupants of some cars gazed inquisitively at the woman sitting alone next to the road with a bemused expression on her face. Some maybe wondering if she needed help, but in too much of a hurry to stop and offer assistance. She did need help, but not of a mechanical nature. And the help she needed in making sense of what had just transpired, could not be supplied by any of the passing motorists. Catie tried to get her breathing under control, and after talking very seriously to herself, succeeded in a small measure. Catie, attractive with a well toned body, thanks to daily gym workouts, and having inherited good genes from her mother, was no stranger to men showing an interest in her. She admitted this without any vanity, as this had occurred from her post school years, as Catie knew how to dress attractively and sexily, without looking common. Unfortunately, this drew a lot of undesirable attention, but being in her mid thirties, she had already learned how to turn away unwanted attention, especially at the office. Catie knew how men kissed and told and was definitely NOT going to join the ranks of those who supplied juicy material for the men in the office to discuss. But today? All that flew out the window. Fast. Far. And oh so unexpectedly perfectly. Catie had not been looking for what happened, had never even imagined remotely anything like what had happened, taking place. She told herself very sternly to concentrate. Pull herself towards herself. Deal with what had happened seriously and in a coldly analytical way. Did it happen? Yes. Oh yes. Are you sure, she asked herself? Yes. Very much so. Okay – analyze it and delegate it to the correct corner of your life, she scolded herself. The corner that will allow you to think of it now, she added, but be rid of it by Monday. Having to be at work again on Monday left two days to sort out this muddle in her head. Head? Her whole traitorous body more like. What on earth are you going to do if you don’t manage to deal with and resolve it? How did this happen? Why did this happen? How to deal with it? Catie found herself softly touching her lips, a sense of detachment intermingled with wonder overwhelming her. Another swift rebuke to get herself under control didn’t have quite the desired effect. What on earth was she going to do? The day had started normally enough. A repetition of most Fridays at the Company she worked for. Intense concentration and input until after midday, after which a general relaxation by all as the weekend approached. The beers and alcoholic beverages it was her responsibility to order had already been carried out to the entertainment area by most of the men, as well as the meat to be barbecued and the fresh buns and salads that accompanied the barbecued meat. Very few of the women in the office joined the men until they were called to come and collect something to eat, a couple of hours after the men left to have a beer and relax. The women would then eat, chat a while and then leave and the men would remain until very little alcohol remained, and usually just as little of the reputation of any woman who was foolish enough to have become involved with them. Catie had always wondered at the men's good luck in never being caught DUI. They seemed to live a charmed life regarding this casual flaunting of the local laws. Not all the men in the office enjoyed the weekly barbecue, where any new conquests - in or out of the office were discussed. As far as the majority of the women were aware, that and other subjects totally uninteresting to them, were not worth going to sit there, and perhaps getting involved in a long conversation going nowhere, which would delay their leaving the office a little earlier than usual on Fridays. The women would know that the conversations were going nowhere, but the men - would incorrectly imagined themselves to be true Don Juans - would be anticipating another 'score' to notch on their belts and brag about the next Friday. Catie checked her watch and fidgeted, waiting for the call that the meat was barbecued so that she could eat and leave. Unfortunately, causing a delay, the Manager waddled into the office, knowing for sure, incorrectly, that he was setting every female heart afire. Ross was short, dumpy, had a round little face lined with broken veins from too much looking deeply into the bottle, and short, pudgy, fat little fingers. He imagined himself an absolute roaring success with the opposite s*x and had no idea he was referred to as 'The little round fat man'. When Catie had applied for the position, Ross had appeared vaguely familiar. During the interview, the pieces all fell into place and Catie remembered that Ross had attended the same senior high school as she had. He had been one of the ‘in’ clique, while Catie and her year’s long friends, had crept around trying to avoid the attention of the more popular students, as it was safer that way. They had no compunction at making anyone not in their sphere the butt of demeaning jokes, or treating them in a manner guaranteed to elicit spiteful laughter from their clique. Catie had not been surprised to be the successful candidate, as Ross had hinted this during the interview. She had not been employed for very long before she became aware that Ross expected the position she had attained, to come with benefits. To him. Not going to happen Catie knew, not ever. There was one female member of staff who always joined the men on Fridays. Totally different to the other women, Wanda was loud, over-confident and as different as cheese from chalk to the other ladies. With her brightly dyed red hair and her over tight clothes, she advertised who she was before opening her mouth, which just confirmed it. She was excellent at her job, in a male dominated career, and the men enjoyed her company and conversation. And more. Which they faithfully discussed, without her realizing that she was no different to other casual affairs they had. She truly believed she was different. Extra special. And truly loved by all the men - not realizing that her easiness was the subject of much banter and faithfully reported to all and sundry.