Revenge, Part 3

This fictional account contains adult language and themes.  If such language
and themes offend you, please do not read further.  Copyright 2000 by
SSTORYMAN.  All rights reserved.  Permission is granted to reproduce this
story in any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced
and no financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly, by the
person reproducing it  Thanks to AZ-MAN and STOGIE-MAN for their help and
encouragement.

REVENGE

3.	Learning by Doing.

   Mother and daughter smoked four more cigarettes together that Tuesday
night.  After the last one, Larilyn was satiated.  Andrea made her puff hard
and inhale deep.  Regrettably, her daughter was right.  She needed to apply
herself.  In nineteen days she had to smoke like Susan!

   Worries ran through her brain as she laid her head on her pillow that
night.  How much would smoking hurt her body?  How about Andrea?  They were
going to smoke every morning and night together.  In nineteen days Andrea
would get used to it.  It'd be hard to restrict her to her room after that.
And how would she be able to smoke as much as she needed?  What if her
friends at the lung association found out?  She tossed and turned.  There
were no answers.

   The one thing she wasn't worried about was nicotine addiction.  She'd
easily leave cigarettes behind after nineteen days.  She just had to get
through the trial.

   The next morning she got up early and went downstairs to fix coffee.
Entering the kitchen she found a pot already brewing.  That was odd.  Andrea
relied on her to start the coffee each day.  But today Andrea was already at
the kitchen table reading the paper.

   "Hi, Mom," she brightly greeted.  "I woke up early so I put the coffee on
for us.  I see you're up early, too."

   "Yeah," the older woman smiled.  "I have to smoke two damn cigarettes this
morning to stay on schedule.  I wanted an early start.  Shit!  I can't
imagine smoking seven of 'em today!"

   "Now, now, Mom.  It won't be so hard," the teenager chuckled.  She wore a
skimpy, low-cut nightgown.  Her ample cleavage was clearly visible.  "You had
five last night.  Have two more now, and tonight all you need is to repeat
last night's quota.  Unless you have to work late."

   "I don't think I will," Larilyn muttered.  She picked up the coffee pot
and got two mugs from the cupboard.  "It's strange, actually talking to you
in the morning, kid," she smiled.  "We never talk before you leave for school
and I leave for work."

   "I know," Andrea acknowledged cheerfully.  "But I wanted to be here to
help.  Maybe this'll be an unexpected benefit."

   Larilyn poured the coffee and put a mug in front of her daughter.  Andrea
was ahead of her.  She'd procured both their packs of cigarettes and a
lighter.  An ashtray purchased the night before sat on the kitchen table.
"After you, Mom," she laughed, pushing the box of Marlboro Menthols across
the table.

   "I hate your sister," Larilyn mumbled as she opened the box and removed a
cigarette.

   "Not me," Andrea brightly replied.  "I'm glad this happened.  I'm having a
ball.  We never do anything like this together."  She put a Salem between her
lips and pushed the Bic across the table.  "Light me," she giggled.

   With a sad sigh Larilyn clicked the lighter and held the flame.  As the
cigarette dangled from her mouth, the red-haired teenager leaned forward and
caught the light.  "Thanks, Mom," she sighed contentedly, pulling just hard
enough to get the cigarette going.  She then made a "V" with her fingers and
began a much longer, more satisfying first drag.

   Larilyn put her cigarette in her mouth and re-ignited the lighter.  She,
too, took a small initial puff.  Eyeing Andrea's huge hit, she wrapped her
lips around the filter and followed her example, sucking hard and pulling the
smoke deep into her lungs like her daughter.

   "Tastes pretty good, huh, Mom?"

   Larilyn made a face.  "It's okay," she replied apathetically.  Then she
startled.  Smoke flowed from her mouth as she spoke.  She smiled.  "I forget
the smoke inside me comes out when I talk."  She laughed.  Wisps of smoke
continued to escape in staccato bursts from her lips.

   "I think it's cool," Andrea commented.  "There are lots of ways to play
with the smoke while you exhale."  She returned her cigarette to her mouth,
took a drag, and picked up her coffee as she inhaled.  After a small sip, she
set the mug back on the table and released twin streams of smoke from her
nostrils.  "Like that, for example," she proudly exclaimed.

   Despite herself, Larilyn smiled.  "Andrea, you're an asshole.  You listen
too damn much to your sister.  There's no 'cool' way to exhale.  However you
do it, it's rotting your lungs, your sinuses, your throat and your mouth."

   "Maybe," Andrea smiled impishly.  "But it's still fun."

   They smoked in silence a few minutes.  Andrea puffed ever thirty seconds
and Larilyn matched her frequency.  Finally the youngster broke the silence.
"Coffee and cigarettes taste pretty damn good together, don't they, Mom?"

   "The addictions are synergistic.  Some smokers get to where they can
hardly have one without the other."

   "I can see why," Andrea favorably remarked.  "Mmm.  I could get used to
this," she added confidently after another sip of coffee.  Seeing her
mother's disapproval, she blushed.  "Look, Mom, unlike you, I _want_ to
smoke.  Do what you want, but I'm going to enjoy myself.  There's no need to
be a grouch about it."

   Larilyn shook her head.  "I'm sorry, honey.  I just don't want to
glamorize smoking.  I'll do it because I have to.  That's all.  It's a job,
like cleaning the bathroom or doing the dishes.  I don't intend to enjoy
myself while smoking."

   "Okay, be a grump," Andrea teased.  "But I'd rather do this than wash
dishes or clean the bathroom."  She gave a playful wink and put her Salem in
her mouth for another long drag.

   In truth, Larilyn wasn't miserable.  Smoking wasn't totally pleasant, but
it wasn't too bad, either.  It was nice sitting and drinking coffee with
Andrea.  "I'm glad you're happy," she grudgingly mumbled.  To avoid falling
behind, she wrapped her lips around the filter tip of her cigarette and
sucked again.  The nicotine buzz in her head was returning, but unlike the
night before it didn't make her dizzy.  It was just … pleasant.  She
shuddered at the realization.

   After several more puffs Andrea crushed her Salem in the ashtray.  "I
gotta get ready for school," she announced.  "After my shower, I'll get
dressed and come back to smoke one more with you before I go."  She paused.
"I don't think I'll have any breakfast.  Just more coffee."

   "No breakfast?"

   "I'm not hungry."  She turned and headed upstairs.  "It's because I had a
cigarette," she added impishly as she bounded up the stairs.

   Larilyn crushed out hers.  She didn't feel her usual early morning hunger
pangs either.  Usually she had a big breakfast.  Today she didn't want to
eat.  She remembered D. R. Humo's article.  Many women find smoking decreases
the appetite and helps them lose weight.

   Standing up, she looked at her figure.  It was slim, though she'd added a
few pounds the last few years.  She decided to skip breakfast, too.  It'd be
a short-term benefit of enduring the hell of smoking for awhile, she
encouraged herself, as she, too, ascended the stairs to her room.

   Thirty minutes later they reconvened in the kitchen.  Andrea wore a tight
blouse and snug pants.  Her reddish hair was arrayed over her shoulders.
Hoop earrings completed her ensemble.  Larilyn wore a silk blouse under a
navy suit.  Her hair was pulled behind her head in a bun.

   "Shall we have another one?" Andrea smiled as she poured a second cup of
coffee.

   "I'd better," Larilyn replied with resignation.  "You don't have to,
though."

   "Oh, but I want to," Andrea grinned.  There was marked impatience in the
young girl's voice.  She put a cigarette in her lips and dropped her pack of
Salems in her purse.  Before she lit up, her mother interrupted her.

   "Wait," Larilyn barked.  "What the hell?  You're not taking cigarettes to
school?"

   "Sure.  Why not?"  The one hundred millimeter cylinder dangled from
Andrea's ruby lips.  Lipstick was beginning to rub off on the white filter.

   "I never said you could smoke outside the house."

   "Come on, Mom," Andrea replied impatiently.  "Fuck off!"  She clicked the
Bic in her hand and lit up.  With cigarette dangling, she went on.  "Our deal
was you'd let me smoke.  A bunch of my school friends smoke.  I intend to
join them.  I'll smoke in my car to and from school and at lunch option with
my friends.  It's part of our deal."  Having finished her speech, she took a
long, luxurious drag.

   Larilyn groaned.  "Okay," she reluctantly agreed.  "But be careful.  I
don't want you getting in trouble for smoking at school."

   "Don't worry.  We do it off school grounds.  It's okay.  We're not dumb."
She looked at her mother.  "Aren't you joining me?"

   "Oh, yeah," Larilyn muttered absent-mindedly.  She opened her pack and got
out a cigarette.  "I almost forgot."

   This time Andrea held the light.  "You can't forget, Mom," she playfully
warned as the flame danced in front of Larilyn's face.  "Don't get behind
schedule.  Otherwise Ashley will miss you on the 16th."

   Larilyn caught the light.  Her cheeks collapsed as the cigarette began
burning and her mouth filled with mentholated smoke.  Putting her fingers
around it, she took the cigarette out and breathed the smoke into her chest.
"Don't worry, honey.  I won't forget."  She pursed her lips and released a
cloud of smoke.

   They talked about the day over the second cup of coffee, something she and
Andrea rarely did.  Smoking was making her teenager want to talk.  That
pleased Larilyn.  It was another unintended benefit of sharing the damned
experience.

   After smoking the entire cigarette, Larilyn crushed hers out.  "I've gotta
go," she mumbled.  "I'm going to be busy at work today."

   Andrea took a long drag and then, to her mother's surprise, double pumped
before crushing hers in the ashtray.  "See you tonight, Mom," she blurted
out, picking her book-bag off the table.  "Have a good day."  Smoke trailed
from her mouth as she departed the room.

   Larilyn was flabbergasted.  It was weird seeing smoke erupt from her
daughter's lips and nose.  But not nearly as weird as her upbeat demeanor.
Andrea hadn't acted so civilly in ages!  Whatever else happened, this was
good!

   Larilyn's day at the office was unusually hectic.  She ate lunch at her
desk.  Before she knew it, the clock on the wall said six.  She cursed.
She'd wanted to leave early, to spread out her remaining cigarette ration.
Most of the day she hadn't thought about it.  Now, however, driving home, the
dread of smoking again settled over her like a cloud.

   Andrea was busy in the kitchen, whistling while fixing a salad.  "Hi,
Mom," she greeted cheerily.  "I hope you don't mind.  I thought you'd be
late, so I decided to make us a salad."

   "No, I don't mind," Larilyn uttered in disbelief as she hung up her coat.
"It's great."

   "Mom, you didn't take your cigarettes to work," Andrea clinically went on.
"You should have one now, before we sit down to dinner.

   Larilyn was in a state of shock.  Her distant, independent, apathetic
daughter was making supper!  She sat at the kitchen table.  Place-mats and
napkins were set out.  "Uh, maybe I'll just wait for you, dear."

   "Okay, suit yourself," Andrea murmured, concentrating on the salad.

   Shortly two salad plates were on the table with mugs of fresh brewed
coffee.  "Voila," Andrea said happily, pleased with herself.  "Dinner is
served!"

   "This is great, honey," Larilyn sincerely replied.  "What's gotten into
you?"

   "I don't know," she admitted.  "I just felt like fixing dinner."  She put
her hand over her mother's and stopped Larilyn from picking up the fork.
"But first, you and I need to smoke.  The salad can wait."  She pushed the
box of Marlboro Menthol Lights 100's across the table.  "You haven't had one
since this morning, and it's almost seven.  You've got ground to cover!"

   "Damn," Larilyn muttered.  "I hate your sister."

   "But you love your granddaughter," Andrea added.  "And that's why you're
doing this.  Remember?  Here.  Let me light you."

   She clicked the lighter and held it.  Larilyn readied a cigarette and
caught the flame.  She took a modest first drag, pulled the smoke in her
chest, and sighed.  "It's nice spending time with you, Andrea."  Smoke began
to discharge through her mouth and mix with her words.  "God, I keep
forgetting," she giggled.  "The smoke has to come out, doesn't it?"

   "Sure does," Andrea agreed.  She lit her own cigarette, and took a much
longer initial hit.  "C'mon, Mom.  Admit it.  Aren't you starting to feel
comfortable with this smoking thing?"

   Larilyn frowned.  "It's not as bad as I imagined.  But the thought of
continuing to smoke so much seems daunting."

   "Not to me," Andrea countered.  "I'm enjoying it.  I had a couple after
school."  She pointed at the ashtray.  There were several butts in it.
"Brittany and I smoked at lunch and I smoked in my car coming home.  Watch
out, Mom.  I'm getting into this smoking thing."

   "That's what I'm afraid of," her mother sighed.  She put her cigarette
between her lips and puffed again.  "If you don't watch it, you get addicted,
and then …."  She stopped.  Smoke spurted from her lips once more.  "Oh God,
there it goes again," she laughed.

   Andrea laughed, too.  "You're funny, Mom.  You may not like it, but the
bottom line is, I've already had half a pack today.  You'll never catch me."
A fiendish twinkle shone in her eye.

   "Nor do I want to," her mother rejoined, taking another drag and tapping
ashes in the rapidly filling ashtray.  "All I want to do tonight is stay on
target."

   After dinner they shared another cigarette at the table and then retired
to the family room to watch TV.  Larilyn reached her goal of seven, but
Andrea smoked much more.  That worried Larilyn, particularly when Andrea took
her pack of Salems to her bedroom.

   "Good night, Mom," she said happily.  "I'll see you for coffee in the
morning."

   And cigarettes, Larilyn thought.  "Remember, no smoking in bed," she
shouted.

   "Don't worry, Mom," came the reply from the top of the stairs.

   Thursday, day three of Larilyn's purgatory, began like day two.  She and
Andrea shared coffee and two cigarettes before leaving the house.  As she
left, the teenager gave some advice.  "Don't forget, Mom, today you need to
smoke ten.  Think about taking your cigarettes to work."

   "But I don't want to," Larilyn whined.

   "Doesn't matter," Andrea countered.  "If you don't smoke at work, you'll
overdose tonight.  Find someplace to go over the lunch-hour."

   "I'll consider it," Larilyn reluctantly agreed, putting the pack in her
purse.  "But I'm not sure it'll work to smoke at the office."

   "Smoke in your car," Andrea suggested helpfully.

   "God, no!  I'm not going to foul my car with that stench!"

   "Whatever," her daughter laughed.  "You have to smoke ten cigarettes to
keep on track.  Do it however you want.  Be resourceful."  She reached the
front door.  "See you tonight."

   Larilyn drove to work preoccupied.  How could she smoke during a work day?
Smokers huddled by the building's front and back doors mid-morning, at lunch
hour, and mid-afternoon.  She couldn't join them and didn't want to.  They
were smokers.  She was merely enduring an ordeal that temporarily involved
smoking cigarettes.

   She checked her calendar and saw she had a meeting at the lung association
at seven.  She was on a task-force to review and approve a new ad campaign on
teenage smoking.  Shit!  The meetings often lasted till ten.  If she went,
she'd never meet her quota.  She had to cancel.  She picked up the phone and
called Sandy Rogers, the lung association's CEO and her old friend.

   "Sandy, it's Larilyn.  I can't make our meeting.  I have an important
family commitment."

   The line was silent for several seconds.  "Okay," her cohort answered
coldly.  "Can I send you proofs of the print ads?  Perhaps you can review
them and join us by conference phone to give your input.  I need you on this
project, Larilyn."

   "Yeah, I guess I can do that."

   "Great," Sandy replied.  "The meeting starts at seven.  Call the
association office, and I'll put you on the speaker phone."

   "Okay," she sighed as she hung up.  It irritated her.  She and Sandy had a
long and complicated relationship.  She still liked her, but Sandy could be
demanding!  It was bizarre to skip the meeting because she had to smoke.
However, there was nothing to be done about it.

   After reviewing her mail she considered Andrea's admonition.  She had to
find a way to smoke at work.  But how?  Suddenly, something occurred to her.
How about Mitch Simpson?

   Mitch was another VP, a nice guy in his early forties who smoked.  She
frequently saw him outside with the other smokers on mid-morning and
mid-afternoon breaks.  Several times he'd asked her out.  Each time she'd
turned him down.  Recently divorced, Mitch was on the prowl for female
companionship.  She'd never paid much attention to him because he smoked.
Now, however, that fact, plus his apparent interest in her, made lunch with
him a perfect idea.

   She wandered down the hall to his office.  Mitch sat behind his desk.
"Larilyn," he said pleasantly.  "What a nice surprise!  What can I do for you
this morning?"

   She walked in and sat down.  "Mitch, I need a favor.  Can we have lunch
today?"

   His face brightened.  "I don't have a thing on my calendar.  Where do you
want to go?"

   "Take me to one of your haunts."  She flashed a careless smile.  "I don't
want anyone to get any ideas," she added mysteriously.  "Can we go somewhere
that isn't popular with others around here?  Someplace we can be alone?"

   "Oh, I see," he smiled.  "I have the perfect place, a bar a few blocks
from here.  The food isn't great, but it's off the beaten path.  I rarely see
anyone else from the company there."

   "Great," she said, purposely batting her eyes.  "I need to talk about some
private things.  It's best if we're somewhere we can talk freely.  Is that
okay?"

   "Super.  I'll see you a few minutes before twelve," said Mitch
enthusiastically.  He didn't know what she wanted, but he was quite ready to
spend time alone with a beautiful woman.

   Larilyn felt good about this approach.  She could open up to Mitch.  He
was a straight arrow and trustworthy.  She could tell him she was smoking and
he wouldn't blab it around the office.  He was obviously interested in her,
and that further assured his confidentiality.  She hated to take advantage of
him, but there was no other way to get what she needed.

   A few minutes before twelve the two of them left the office.  They walked
several blocks in the chilly air.  Finally Mitch steered her toward an
insignificant looking building off the street.  "This is the place," he
announced proudly.

   It was indeed nothing more than a bar.  People who appeared to be regulars
sat at the tables.  The crowd wasn't professional, and the place wasn't busy.
"How about a table in the corner?" Larilyn suggested.  That way she'd be able
to see everyone who came in, just in case.

   As they sat down an older woman brought plastic menus and glasses of
water.

   Mitch spoke up.  "I come here for lunch sometimes to smoke and have a beer
in peace.  But I won't smoke today.  I know you don't care for it."

   "Actually, I don't mind," she replied.  "Let me tell you a story."  She
briefly explained what'd happened with Susan, Andrea and herself.  She
finished by describing her self-imposed smoking timetable to finish the
carton of cigarettes by the 16th, in time for Ashley's party.

   Mitch listened patiently.  He was tall and handsome.  He looked younger
than his forties.  His hair was thick and black.  His marriage of twenty
years recently failed.  Everyone in the office knew of his return to single
status.  He'd dated several women in the office the last few months.  Mostly
it'd been younger, prettier ones.  Larilyn was flattered to be among those he
asked out.  Flattered, but uninterested.  Until now, that is.

   Hearing her story, Mitch carefully eyeballed his lovely companion.  "Let
me get this straight.  Your daughter's royally pissed at you, and she's
making you smoke an entire carton of cigarettes before she'll let you see
your granddaughter?"

   Larilyn nodded.  "In a nutshell, yes, that's it."

   "God, that's a new one," he laughed.  "I have lots of friends who smoke.
The older ones usually have the opposite problem.  Their kids won't let 'em
smoke around the grandchildren.  Boy, your daughter must be something!"

   "She is," she sighed, more than a little embarrassed.

   "But you're an anti-smoker.  Everyone in the company knows how you
campaigned to make our office non-smoking six years ago, Larilyn."  He
grinned.  "I'm still pissed about that."

   "I know," she acknowledged.  "And I still _am_ an anti-smoking advocate."

   He laughed.  "Then it must be humiliating to worship at the nicotine altar
with us pariahs.  I always figured one reason you wouldn't go out with me is
because I smoke."

   "It is why I turned you down.  And it is humiliating to be forced to
smoke.  My whole adult life I've campaigned against it.  Look, you're a nice
guy, Mitch.  I was flattered you put your post-divorce moves on me.  But I
wasn't about to encourage a man who smokes."  She blushed at her own candor.
"That's why this lunch is damn ironic.  The fact that you smoke, and that
you're discrete, is why I wanted to tell you and not someone else."

   "Because you can smoke with me, and you know I won't tell?"

   "Yes."

   Mitch laughed.  "What about your assistant, Brianna?  She smokes.  You
could've gone to lunch with her to smoke."

   Larilyn raised her eyebrows.  "God, I didn't know Brianna smokes."

   He smiled.  "She probably doesn't want you to know.  After all, she's
heard of your vicious anti-smoking tirades around the water-cooler."

   "But Mitch, we don't have a water-cooler in the office."

   "I'm speaking figuratively," he said playfully.  "Brianna sometimes sneaks
out with the rest of us pariahs for smoke breaks.  In fact, I've been here
with Brianna for lunch before."

   "Is she another of your office conquests?" she teased.  Brianna was in her
mid-twenties, and was a gorgeous, well endowed brunette.  She was known as a
girl who loved to party.

   Mitch blushed this time.  "I went out with her a few times.  But she's not
my type.  Don't get me wrong.  She's a lovely girl.  But she's immature.
Since my divorce I've dated many girls in their twenties like Brianna.  But
I'm more interested in a woman with maturity and depth, like you, Larilyn."

   He was flirting, but she found it flattering and strangely satisfying.
The waitress brought Mitch's Michelob Light and her wine.

   Mitch smiled.  "I do like to smoke when I drink."  He took a pack of
Winston Lights 100's from his suit pocket.  "I guess you want to join me?"

   Larilyn looked around, embarrassed.  "Yes, that's the point of our having
lunch.  I need a couple cigarettes to make my quota.  But I've never smoked
with anyone except my daughter, Andrea.  I'm not sure I'm very good at it.
Don't laugh at me.  Okay?"

   "Don't worry," he reassured her.  "You are one woman I'd never laugh at."
He readied one of his Winstons and his gold Calibri lighter and waited.

   She opened her purse and gingerly put her Marlboro Menthol Lights 100's on
the table.  She took a sip of wine, for courage more than refreshment, and
extracted a cigarette.  Placing it in her lips, she smiled as he clicked the
lighter and held it.  She caught the flame, took an initial drag, and sucked
the smoke inside her body.

   Mitch watched.  "Wow, you don't smoke like a novice!"  He lit his Winston
and laughed as he exhaled.  "God, this is weird," he said, shaking his head.
"I'm smoking with Larilyn Dahlberg, noted anti-smoking activist and lung
association board member.  It's too funny!"

   Larilyn winced.  "Don't remind me of the incongruity."  Despite her
awkwardness, she took a second, much longer, deeper drag.  The cigarette
tasted good.  After pulling a substantial amount of smoke into her lungs, she
smiled graciously and tipped her head to release a long blue-gray stream from
her red lips.

   "You've been smoking now for only _how_ many days?"  He was clearly
impressed.

   "This is day number three," she sighed.  She was proud to have evidently
mastered the technique so soon.  Bits of smoke burst from her mouth.  "I
smoke ten today.  Tomorrow it's eleven a day for a couple weeks, then twelve
a day for the last couple days before the 16th."

   Mitch grinned.  "C'mon, Larilyn," he teased.  "Admit it.  Don't you like
it a little?"

   Larilyn hesitated.  "Honestly?  It's not too bad.  I smoked when I was a
kid, and I liked it then.  That's why I stopped.  I could see it was having a
beguiling effect on me."

   "It does on me, too," Mitch agreed.  "Almost as beguiling as your lovely
presence."

   She laughed and rolled her eyes.  "Oh, stop!  Remember, I'm not one of the
vapid twenty-something women you've been seducing recently."

   "No, you're not," he replied earnestly.  "You're much more interesting.
I'm serious, Larilyn.  I find you fascinating.  You're smart, strong-minded,
attractive and assertive.  I like those things in a woman."  He smiled.  "I'm
glad you asked me to help."

   Her face turned bright red.  "God, you _are_ a charmer," she giggled,
leaning back in her chair.  Without thinking she put her cigarette to her
lips for another hit.  "I need to prove to my daughter I can smoke like a
pro," she went on, attempting to change the subject and releasing successive
staccato bursts of smoke as she talked.  "How do you think I'm doing?"

   "Oh my God!  You're doing great," he sighed.  He tapped some ashes in the
ashtray on the table.  "You can smoke for me anytime, Larilyn!"

   Before she responded, the waitress took their order.  Then they chatted
while finishing their cigarettes.  Mitch did his best to enchant her.
Despite her prior reluctance, she had to admit he was wonderful to be with.

   They talked about their divorces.  Mitch's wife left him due to a
fascination with New Age mysticism and vegetarianism.  "That wasn't for me.
But she was into it.  I think she went off to join a commune somewhere," he
laughed.

   "My divorce was run-of-the-mill.  My husband left me for another woman ten
years ago."

   "I find _that_ hard to believe," Mitch smiled.  "Your ex obviously had a
screw loose."

   She laughed.  "Well, screwing had something to do with it."

   Mitch shook his head.  "Shall we have another cigarette before our food
comes?"

   She resolutely shook her head.  "I'll have one more after we eat.  My goal
is to smoke two over the lunch hour, no more and no less."

   "I'll wait for you, then."

   "No, go ahead if you want.  I don't mind."

   "I'm a gentleman, dear.  I never smoke while out with a lady unless she's
smoking, too."

   She blushed.  "You're very considerate, Mitch."

   When they finally finished lunch, she glanced at her watch.  "We've got
fifteen minutes.  Let's have that second cigarette now."

   Mitch grinned.  "I'm ready."  There was a sparkle in his eye.  "There's
nothing more relaxing than a cigarette after a meal."

   He again lit hers for her.  She realized her awkwardness was gone.  He was
charming and funny; she felt completely at ease.  She appreciated the fact
that he didn't made fun of her for smoking.  If anything, he seemed to enjoy
watching her.  If only Mitch didn't smoke, she mused.  I'd love to go out
with him.  He certainly seems interested in me!

   By one o'clock, the wind had picked up.  Larilyn had only a light coat.
Without asking, Mitch put his arm around her and pulled her close to protect
her from the blustery weather.  She didn't object.  She liked the physical
contact.  She didn't feel like pushing him away.  And it wasn't just because
of the cold.

   "Shall we do this again tomorrow?" he asked politely as they entered the
building.

   Larilyn smiled coyly.  "I'd like to.  Very much."

   "I'll look forward to it the rest of the afternoon, and tomorrow morning,
too."

   "Oh, God," she laughed.  "You are such a bullshitter!  You probably have
some busty, brainless babe lined up to whom you'll feed the same lame lines
tonight."

   Mitch answered with a serious look.  "No, I don't.  I told you, Larilyn.
A woman like you comes along damn infrequently.  I'd be insane not to want to
be with you."  He took her hand and looked into her eyes.

   Despite herself, she couldn't help smiling.  "I like you, too, Mitch.
Well, I'll see you tomorrow for lunch, then."

   That afternoon at work she had difficulty concentrating.  It'd been awhile
since she'd been held by anyone.  God, it felt good!  Something deep inside
had stirred to life.  If only he weren't a smoker, she repeated to herself
….  Even so, she smiled, it could prove interesting.

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