Business Trip Chapter 13

Business Trip Chapter 13

Copyright © 2024 by W. Richard St. James

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental

“WAKE UP HONEY, we’re here.” Her mother.

“Of course we’re here. Were the hell else would we be? But just where is here?”

“Boston, sweetie, we’re in Boston. The wedding? Remember?”

“Wedding! Oh, Chrissie’s wedding.” Ann looked at her watch. “Nine thirty? We’re here at fucking nine thirty?”

“Not much traffic,” Evan said.

“When is the brunch?”

“Eleven.”

“Jesus. I wonder when check in time is. They probably don’t have our rooms ready.”

They left their luggage, such as it was, in the car and went into the lobby. The bathrooms were right there, right at the entrance, thank God, because Ann could barely walk her bladder was so full. How long had they been in the car? Four hours? And no stops? Her mother was crazy. Evan was crazy. Any normal person would have made at least one pit stop. Maybe two. Or had they, and just left her sleeping in the car? Maybe that was it, because the two of them seemed fine, strolling up to the reservations desk as she broke off in a desperate attempt to keep from peeing all over the polished marble tile. Panties? Was she wearing panties? She could look down at her reflection and see quite clearly she was not. She had some vague memory that her mother had scarfed them all up out of the dryer and packed them away before she’d had a chance to put a pair on. Or maybe because she’d been too chafed? It just made it more urgent to get through the door. She could feel herself losing control. A dribble on the floor by the sinks. Into the stall. Another dribble. Onto the safety of the pot. And nothing would come out. What was this? She’d frozen things up. Relax, relax, it’s okay now. But it took five minutes for her bladder to relent. Even then there wasn’t nearly enough to justify all the distress. Too much booze, she thought. But then she started to wonder if there would be mimosas at the brunch.

There was no one around, thank God. She wiped up the telltale puddle in the stall with some toilet paper, the one out by the sink with a paper towel. There, no one would ever be the wiser. One thing about no panties, no bra for that matter, she could give herself a little sponge bath, freshen up, gargle at the water fountain out in the hall. There, she felt almost human.

Which was just as well, because when she came back out into the lobby Chrissie was there to greet her. There was no sign of Evan or her mother. After the obligatory hugs and kisses, Ann got a chance to ask what had happened to them.

“Oh, they went up to the room. Here, they left me your key.” She handed it over and Ann stuck it in her purse. “I’m so glad you made it up in time for the practice.”

“Practice?”

“We just decided last night that we wanted to do the practice before we got our hair done. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“What are we practicing? Some sort of dance?”

“Ladies, ladies, we are ready to go.” That from a thin man with a skinny goatee. Artsy type. Or at least pretending to be. “You must be the cousin?” He was giving Ann a cold, appraising stare.

“Ann, this is Josh Owen.”

The name seemed familiar.

“Hello my dear.” He seemed singularly unaffected by her beauty. Okay, maybe she wasn’t quite as pretty as Katie, but then again who was? She was not used to having a man look her over that way. Gay, he must be gay. Wasn’t Chrissie complaining all the time about how all the cute male dancers were gay? Except hopefully for the one she was about to marry. Which made her start wondering about the story Evan had told her mother, about the priest or maybe priests.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She had missed something.

“I was asking about your dance background.”

“I was a cheerleader.” That produced something close to a sneer. “I did take dance lessons all the way through college. And I’m an expert at pole dancing.” She threw that in just to taunt him, get a rise out of him. The closest she had ever come was in the Bayou, but then hadn’t she done some pole riding?

“Well, later at the reception perhaps you can show off your talents.”

Shit. She was in for it now. Should have kept her mouth shut.

“Most of the other bridesmaids are professional ballerinas,” he continued. “What is it you do for a living, my dear?”

“Ann is a high priced consultant.” Chrissie broke in. Just to reinforce that Ann fished one of her business cards out of her purse.

“Ah very impressive. And just what is it you are doing?”

“We’re building the first large scale commercial strength object oriented application. Actually my group is trying to rescue that project, to get it to work.” Josh seemed totally unimpressed. “Really, what we are doing is as much of a breakthrough as Rite of Spring.”

“Really. So you are a revolutionary genius?”

“No, more the sorcerer’s apprentice.”

And fuck toy. That’s what he was thinking, she could see it in his eyes. The little ornamental blond airhead along for the ride. Along to be ridden. God, she had been so careful for all this time to stay away from that. And now what could she say? Everything he might be thinking was true.

“Ann and the wizard – what’s his name?”

“Brad.”

“Ann and Brad have a strictly professional relationship, right Ann?”

“Not after this week.” Better to get it out in the open even if it was in front of this lizard. Not that he would give a shit one way or the other.

“Oh my God. He seduced you?”

“Other way around. We can talk about it later.”

“Later I am going to be getting married. Doing the wedding, doing the reception, doing the honeymoon …”

“Okay, okay I’ll give you the short version. This week we went to Austin. It was the first time I’d gone there with him. It was always Atlanta – well one time in our previous gig we went over to Germany for a user meeting.