The Elusive California Dream, Part 4

   The following story is fictional and is provided solely for the enjoyment
of its readers. While there are references to actual establishments such as
several major corporations, other smaller companies, restaurants and
locations, the characters within the story are entirely fictional. Any
resemblance to a real person either living or dead is completely coincidental.
This fictional account does contain adult language and themes. If such
language and themes offend you, please read no further. This story is
copyrighted by AZ-MAN, all rights reserved. Permission is granted to reproduce
it 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.
   
   Also, the author would like to thank SSTORYMAN for all his help and words
of encouragement along the way. You're great, man.
   
   THE ELUSIVE CALIFORNIA DREAM - Part 4 of 9
   
   7. To Be Young Again 
   
   It was a mild spring evening and the girls were sitting on the patio at
Barnaby's. It had been cooler in previous weeks and they all relished being
out here in much lighter clothing. Barnaby's was a local pizza joint located
just off the main drag in Palo Alto only blocks from Stanford University. It
had grown in popularity over the last few years and its outside dining was one
of THE places 'to hang' among the college crowd. The tough California smoking
ordinances had ensured Barnaby's outside patio was no longer wasted real
estate. In fact, all the tables were taken, mostly by smokers, while the
eating area inside was running about half capacity.
   Brittany and her friends, Gail, Allyson and Crystal were sitting near the
outside bar all sipping Cokes. None were old enough to be served alcohol. It
didn't matter though. You couldn't get it served out here anyway. Since most
of Barnaby's clientele were underage college kids, the only thing they served
was beer and wine and you had to be inside to get it. So the girls sat back in
the casual environment trying to look cool despite being juniors in high
school. Brittany was wearing a loose bright blue cropped long-sleeve tee shirt
that had blocked letters "Abercrombie and Fitch" across the neckline and arms.
You could see her navel just above the pair of tight-fitting denim shorts she
had on. Her blonde hair was combed straight and hung just below her shoulders.
Her make-up was heavier than usual and she easily passed for three or four
years older than her sixteen years. She batted her long eyelashes as she
reached across the table and picked up Crystal's pack of Marlboro Lights 100s.
With casual grace and elegance, Brittany lit up like it was something she did
everyday. She pulled hard on her first puff, radiating confidence to her peers
then inhaled deeply. She turned her head slightly and let out a thick, loose
stream of smoke. Then she turned back to the group and laughed at something
that was said in the conversation. Soon, all the girls had cigarettes going.
Brittany puffed again, inhaled then let her smoke out in measured bursts again
while laughing at something funny. It was getting hard to ignore this lively
group of young women smoking at the table by the bar.
   That's exactly what Jill Patterson was thinking as she stood inside the
restaurant waiting for a pizza to go for she and Kyle. She had heard the
raucous laughter coming from the patio and walked to the window to see what
was going on. That's when she saw Brittany and her friends. The scene had
nearly knocked her to the ground. At first, she barely recognized her daughter
sitting in the low sunlight blowing smoke out of her mouth into the breeze.
Then she wanted to deny that this could even be Brittany. After regaining her
composure, she uttered to herself, "Just what the hell do you think you're
doing, young lady?" as she shook her head. Oh, this was going to cost Brittany
plenty. Part of Jill was angry because she felt betrayed by her older
daughter. Yet, part of her was quickly coming to realize that this scene
vaguely resembled something from her own youth. Jill had to admit that during
her brief smoking phase at 18, she had done the same thing with her
girlfriends. Still, this really pissed her off. This was the new generation.
These kids were supposedly much more educated and enlightened about the
dangers of smoking. Smoking wasn't supposed to be glamorous and cool these
days. Besides, this was HER DAUGHTER! She was watching smoke pour from this
gorgeous adolescent's body and smile as she did it! Brittany was inhaling her
smoke like a pro. Jill's feet wanted to move in the direction of the door so
she could yank that cigarette from her daughter's lips, but her head told her
to stay put. She was in no position to confront Brittany in front of her peers
and a patio full of people. No, it'll wait until she's home...home on MY turf.
John and I will let her have it with both barrels.
   Jill continued to stare at Brittany while she waited for the pizza.
Brittany was oblivious to everything except looking as cool as possible. Jill
could see that the girl's vampish efforts were starting to pay off. For two
guys were moving their chairs in the direction of their party. One of them was
already flirting with Gail as she blew out smoke from her own cigarette. Oh
brother, thought Jill, this is going from bad to worse. Finally, someone from
behind the counter inside called Jill's order number. She headed for the
counter, paid for the pizza and headed out the front door. Jill had a plan.
   After depositing the pizza on the seat next to her, Jill turned the
ignition on her Suburban and pulled from the parallel parking spot onto the
busy road. She slowly eased into the traffic and continued along at about 10
miles an hour until she was abreast Barnaby's patio dining area. She lowered
the passenger window by pressing the button on her armrest and leaned to look
at Brittany.
   Brittany didn't have a clue what was going on. She was raising her
cigarette to her lips for another puff and chatting with this new guy that had
just fallen into the chair next to her when she heard a horn honk. The entire
table stopped and instinctively looked in the direction of the big blue GMC
Suburban. "Oh my God!" Brittany softly declared. She dropped her cigarette
from view and hid it under the table. Her mom had a big smirk on her face, not
quite a smile, but not a frown either. Brittany waved at her mom with her free
hand as the big truck pulled away. She hoped, prayed actually, that her mom
had not seen her cigarette but feared she was cooked. "Shit! I'm sooo
grounded. I'm sooo in trouble. My mom's gonna shit."
   A silence enveloped the group. 
   Gail finally reached around Brittany and said, "You're not in trouble.
Brittany, there's no way she saw you smoking. Look, from where you're sitting
she couldn't have seen your cigarette. Besides, you hid it before you waved.
You're fine."
   Nonetheless, Brittany put out her cigarette without taking a last puff and
said, "You think so?" She was actually getting hopeful.
   "I'm positive. You think she would've just driven off if she actually saw
you smoking? Hell no...she'd have been on this patio and in your face in a
second."
   Brittany knew her mom. She wanted to agree with Gail but knew her mom
wouldn't dare confront her while she was with her friends. That was not her
style...thank God. No, Brittany couldn't be sure if she was caught or not.
Just to be safe though, she decided not to smoke the rest of the evening so as
to leave no trace of telltale odor.
   
   John was late getting in from the airport. Damn it, didn't he say he'd be
home by 8 o'clock? Jill asked herself. It was now nine and she just heard
Crystal's late-model Honda Prelude let Brittany off in the driveway. I guess
I'll just have to deal with this alone, she sighed. Lately, she and Brittany
had been able to argue about practically anything - clothes, curfew time,
homework, grades, all the usual teenage stuff. They had developed a patent
style of launching just the right barb at each other when one was starting to
gain the upper hand. Once that happened, all bets were off. There was no
making any progress or reasonable points or appealing to Brittany's better
half. Jill knew her daughter too well. Usually one of them would storm off and
slam a door behind them and that would be the end of that. If John were home,
most of the time the argument never progressed to that final stage. He could
always act as an arbitrator. He was always calm when Jill would lose it with
Brittany. God, I need him now. Jill was ready to lay into her daughter.
   As Brittany made her way up the walk, she thought the best approach was to
slip through the front door and up to her room without any greeting. Most of
the time she did this anyway so it wouldn't seem that unusual. As she closed
the massive door behind her, she sensed a presence in the darkened living
room.
   "Brittany," Jill spoke in a low voice.
   She jumped and shrieked at the same time. "My God mom! You scared the shit
out of me!"
   "Watch your language with me, young lady." Jill was used to hearing
Brittany swear but it was usually only during their heated arguments. And this
one's going to be a doozy, Jill thought. "Since when did you and your friends
start smoking?"
   "What?" Brittany was buying time.
   "Answer me. And don't tell me you weren't smoking. I saw you."
   Brittany at once knew she couldn't deny it. No, mom must've seen the
cigarette in her hand before she could hide it. Still, she started down the
path of a lie just the same. "Mom, I don't smoke. I just decided to try it
tonight, you know, for the first time. Gail started smoking last week and we
thought it'd be cool if we all tried it."
   Jill's eyes narrowed. "So, this was your first time trying a cigarette?
Tonight?"
   Brittany gestured with her hands and rolled her eyes, "Yeah, sure."
   Jill knew she was lying. She moved closer to her daughter in an attempt to
smell smoke on her clothes or breath. There was none. "So, what'd you think of
it? Did you like it?"
   Now Brittany was getting suspicious. "What are you talking about, mom? I
just like, tried it. It was no big deal."
   "Just this once?"
   Brittany was silent for a few seconds then said, "Yeah."
   "Liar." The word even surprised Jill when she spoke it aloud. They were now
almost face to face. "Brittany, I was inside tonight. I had to pick up a
pizza. I didn't just drive by and see you sitting outside. I watched you smoke
almost an entire cigarette from inside the restaurant."
   Brittany's face was burning hot but she said nothing.
   Jill continued, "The way you inhaled that smoke tonight shocked me. No,
you've been doing it for quite sometime, haven't you young lady?"
   "Yes," she answered meekly.
   Jill was surprised by the bit of honesty and the fact that Brittany wasn't
starting to go ape-shit under the interrogation. She continued, "Are you
hooked?"
   "I don't know.....yes. Probably. God mom, am I in trouble or not?
   "I want to wait until your father gets home. Frankly, I'm at a loss right
now, Brit."
   Daylight! Yes, there was daylight here. First, her mom called her Brit.
That was always a good sign and second, when dad got involved, a compromise
was always worked out between her mom and she. She wanted to offer a
concession. "Mom, I'm doing fine in school. We (meaning her clique) are not
into anything bad. I don't smoke on campus. I only do it when we're out at
night. You know, stuff like you did in high school."
   Jill jerked her head back in the direction of her daughter. "What do you
mean...stuff like I did?"
   "Mom, Dad told me you used to smoke back in high school, or college, or
wherever it was and then you quit after maybe a year or so." Brittany was
looking at her mom in a way as if to ask, isn't that right?
   Jill smiled. "Is that so? Yeah, I guess I did smoke for a short time back
then...everyone did." She sat down on the sofa and gestured to Brittany to do
the same. "You know, things were different then. Anyone could buy cigarettes.
Practically every adult smoked...my parents, your dad's parents, everyone.
Even though they had known for more than ten years in 1976 that smoking caused
lung cancer, about 50% of the population continued smoked. God, my own high
school actually had a smoking lounge for students for a time. They figured it
would be better to let students smoke in a designated area than to have them
sneaking cigarettes in the bathrooms and out behind the school."
   "So you started smoking, with friends, in this like, lounge area?" Brittany
couldn't imagine a legal smoking area for students at her high school. Hell,
you could get suspended for a week just for being seen within 500 feet of the
school grounds with a cigarette.
   "No, I was a good girl in high school. Despite the rampant use of tobacco
back then, I actually first tired it at a frat party my freshman year of
college."
   "You mean at Berkeley?"
   "Yeah, I was fairly drunk..." Jill paused. "I can't believe I'm telling you
this. Anyway, yeah, we'd all been drinking and I announced to my friend,
Amanda..." She paused again. "God, I haven't thought about her in ages. Amanda
Reese. Anyway, I told Amanda, who smoked all the time, that I wanted one of
her cigarettes."
   "What brand?" Brittany interjected actually appearing interested. She was
curious about what brands existed back in the 'stone-age'.
   "Salem I think. Yeah, they were Salem 100s, although back then they called
them Salem Premium Length or some such name. So, I take one out of the pack
and some frat boy offers me a light and I start smoking like I actually know
what I'm doing. Anyway, I only inhaled a little bit. You know, so I could
blend in but before I knew it, I was smoking at every party from that point on
and inhaling every puff. I even smoked some during the day, but backed off
because I got scared."
   "Scared?"
   "Yes, honey. I was getting addicted. I was starting to look forward to
smoking at the start of each day. I wanted to smoke more and more often. I
thought about it constantly. That's when I knew I either needed to give in and
smoke more to satisfy the cravings or back off and eventually quit
altogether."
   "So you quit?"
   "Yeah." Jill lingered for a moment as she pleasantly reminisced about her
early smoking experience. "The thing was, and I'm being honest and talking to
you woman to woman now...the thing was, I enjoyed smoking immensely. I enjoyed
holding a cigarette, especially at parties. I enjoyed watching the smoke come
out of me but best of all, I enjoyed inhaling. The entire process seduced me
from the start." 
   The two were silent for a time until Brittany spoke, "I feel that exact
same way, Mom. I think everything about smoking is cool, but I'm especially
serious about inhaling now. Why is that?"
   "Because you're getting addicted, Brit. I think you'd better try to stop
now."
   Brittany wanted to respond like an adult. Her mom was treating her like an
adult and she wanted to appear responsible. "You're right. I guess I can, like
try. To quit, I mean. Are you going to tell Dad?"
   Jill thought for a while then said, "I don't know. We'll see how you do. I
think you need to quit smoking soon though, Brit." She reached over and
tousled her daughter's pretty hair. "Then we'll decide if we need to talk to
dad or not."
   Brittany offered a small but genuine smile to her mom then reached out to
hug her. "Got to get up at six for school," she said. "Goodnight." She stopped
on her way up the stairs then turned back. "And Mom, thanks."
   "Goodnight Brittany." Jill felt an uneasiness in her stomach. She wasn't
sure if she had done the right thing. She felt wonderful for not having to
deal with the big meltdown she was expecting before Brittany arrived home, but
this ending confused her nonetheless. On one hand, she felt like her daughter
was getting away with something, but on the other, she was impressed with the
way she AND Brittany had handled this potentially volatile issue. Brittany was
maturing and Jill liked what she saw tonight despite the early lie.
   Having turned the entire issue over in her mind several more times, Jill
was satisfied that everything was handled correctly. She still had a couple of
open issues though. One was a strong desire of her own to smoke a cigarette
again (of all things!). After reminiscing with Brittany about her own
experience AND watching her daughter smoke this evening, Jill really wanted to
relive the experience again. Just once, she said to herself. If there had been
any cigarettes in the house, she knew she would have tried one. But just one.

   The second open issue went back to John and what he'd asked her last
weekend. And to Jill this is what seemed very coincidental. He had asked her
if she ever thought about smoking again. She smiled. Well John, to answer your
question, yes, now I have thought about smoking again. In fact, I'd love a
cigarette right now. 
   
   The ringing telephone broke the silence in the room. Jill opened her eyes
and looked at the clock on the living room wall. Good God, I must've dozed
off. It was a little before 11 PM. Who's calling this late? she wondered.
   "Hello?"
   "Hi, it's me. I'm on my way down from the airport."
   Jill recognized John's voice. He was on his cell phone. "Oh," she paused a
moment. "Hi. Are you late? I thought you were getting in at 7:30."
   "YES, I'm late. Sorry!" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "There
was nothing I could do about it!"
   Jill recoiled. "What's YOUR problem? I don't care that you're late."
   John immediately shot back, "Oh. Then what's with this 'I thought you were
getting in at 7:30' crap?" 
   He sounded really steamed about something. His meetings must've not gone
well, she presumed. "Nothing's 'with it'. Did you have a rough trip or
something?"
   "What do YOU care? ALL my trips are rough. I just don't tell you about them
all the time."
   I'm not continuing with this conversation, thought Jill. Something's got
him royally pissed and I'm certainly not going to play up to it. She said,
"Sounds to me like you're telling me about your rough trip right now...and
you're being a jerk about it." For the life of her, she didn't understand why
she felt like she was being blamed for something.
   "Look, we got delayed in Atlanta. Rain, bad weather. I'm late and I already
told you, I'm sorry."
   This is ridiculous. Why is he apologizing to me? Certainly not because he's
a few hours late. Sounding flustered, she responded, "John, no one asked you
to say you're sorry. I don't know what's bothering you, but let's just drop
it, okay?"
   "Fine!" 
   Click went the phone in Jill's ear. He hung up.
   Jesus. What a jerk, she thought as she stood there with the receiver still
held to her head. What's gotten into him? She decided not to wait up for John
and proceeded immediately to the bedroom. What the hell did I do to deserve
that?
   
   John regretted the conversation with Jill as soon as he punched the 'off'
button on his cell phone. He was tired and irritable. It HAD been a tough day
with Peter Gaylor at Sikorsky. He deserved to be a little cranky. Who the hell
does she think she is anyway? I haven't had but four hours sleep in the last
36. Suddenly, a picture of Jenni underneath him with that creamy ball of smoke
in her mouth flashed into his brain again. Instead of smiling, he frowned.
God, I'm in trouble. He knew that was why he was apologizing to Jill. It was
certainly not because he was a little late. But I can't tell her the real
reason. He was starting to feel the onset of some very heavy guilt. Here I am,
heading home to my wife only hours after fucking this bimbo stewardess I hope
to never see again. He spoke it aloud hoping that it would help to get Jenni
out of his head. It did no good. In fact, he was getting a hard-on in his car
just thinking about Jenni and that little ball of smoke in her mouth. He
reached into his coat pocket, which was sitting in the passenger seat and
pulled out his pack of Benson and Hedges Lights. Actually it was her pack. She
had placed the half-full pack in his shirt pocket when he dropped her at the
airport this morning and kissed him goodbye. She had urged him to stop being
so secretive about his smoking and to show the pack in a conspicuous spot. He
suspected that she just wanted him to start smoking more now that she'd picked
up her own pace to almost a pack a day. It must be nice to be able to smoke
whenever you want, he thought, envying Jenni and Tina for their lifestyle.
   John pulled one of her cigarettes from the pack and carefully lit it while
heading down the Bayshore Freeway. He cracked the driver's window slightly as
he savored his second puff. The taste of the smoke only further reinforced his
memory of the passionate lovemaking with this beautiful smoking goddess only a
night ago. He rebuked himself for referring to her as a 'bimbo stewardess'
earlier. God, what was I thinking? On his third puff, he found himself trying
to imitate Jenni's inhaling technique. He was really getting turned on
imagining he was with her again smoking and kissing. He tried to imagine what
the cool menthol smoke must taste like to her as she inhales it deep into her
lungs. He took a fourth puff. Finally, he had to pull over to the shoulder of
the road to finish his cigarette in the car. It was dark and no one could see
him smoking and fantasizing about this sexy woman in a way that was bringing
him very close to orgasm. After flashing the image of her coating her lungs
with this rich smoke and kissing him fervently on the lips, John lost it in
his pants sitting there on his leather car seat. He took a deep breath and
dropped the cigarette out the window. He sat in the car a moment longer and
wondered what had possessed him to do this before starting the engine and
heading back down the freeway.
   John felt better. This little 'session' had released some internal tension
and was helping him to think more clearly now. It was ironic. Only moments
before, Jenni's memory had helped him achieve a very satisfying orgasm and
now, his first full thought was, I have to email her and tell her I can't see
her again. Having settled this dilemma, John smiled and was able to focus on
his problems at Ilex and, beyond that, the predicament that he had just gotten
into with Jill. He really was feeling better.
   
   When John pulled into the driveway, he noticed the house was completely
dark. After all, it was almost midnight. However, Jill hadn't left the big
outside floodlights on near the garage as she usually did. An ominous sign,
he'd thought. He had driven around after his roadside cigarette to clear the
air in the car and plan his day for tomorrow. It would be a big one at Ilex.
He would have to 'fess up to Conrad about the Collins and Sikorsky debacle.
But now he had a decent plan, which made all the difference in his mood.
   Jill was sound asleep when he tiptoed into the master bedroom. (Or at least
she was doing a good job pretending, he thought.) He carefully slid down the
sheets and crawled in bed hoping not to disturb her. As soon as he was done
moving around and lying on his back, Jill moved abruptly about a foot away
from him. She's awake, he lamented.
   
   
   8. John on the Carpet
   
   "Hi John," said the perky voice on the other end of the telephone. "Conrad
says he can see you as soon as you get in but he's got a 9 o'clock with
Solectron so the sooner you make it in, the better....he says."
   The perky voice belonged to Sarah Hylton, Ilex's one and only full-service
executive secretary. She basically served all four men in the 'head-shed' but
truly belonged to Conrad. She gave good service to all of them but for Conrad,
she always went that extra mile. He had hired her several years ago and he
wrote her review. Sarah was no dummy. Although she sounded like she'd had four
cups of coffee too many this morning, thought John. "Thanks Sarah. How's it
going? You sound busy."
   "Well, funny you should ask." Then her voice became even more animated.
"We've got a surprise waiting for you when you get in."
   John started to laugh but he was nervous. I don't need surprises right now.
He spoke, "You sound happy, so I take it that this is a 'good' surprise?"
   Sarah giggled. "Oh, yeah...I think you will be...well, surprised. Just get
in here and I'll intro...oops, and I'll show you."
   John smiled and shook his head. Sarah always had a way with her words.
"Okay, see you in a few..." He pushed the button on his phone and hung up.
   Now he WAS nervous. Sarah had spilled the beans though. Sort of, anyway.
John knew that he was going to be meeting someone. He knew it wouldn't be his
wife and he knew it wouldn't be a customer. Sarah would never tell me a
customer's waiting to see me in my office like that, would she? No, it's
someone else. Hmmm. 
   Then it occurred to him. Christ! It's Jenni! She must've flown all night
and is waiting in the lobby. Now John was panicking. I can't go in to work. Oh
my God! This is impossible...this is nuts! Jesus, what am I going to do?! He
wanted to turn his car around and head somewhere else but he was stuck at a
traffic light only blocks from the office. Then, he began to settle down some.
I've got options. I don't have to go in, he thought but something told him he
should. Shit, I still have to meet with Conrad. All of a sudden, he just
screamed out, "Why me!?" to the traffic around him. God, this is probably just
the usual post extra-marital affair paranoia I'm feeling. He tried to laugh it
off but remained slightly ill at ease.
   Cautiously, John pulled into the covered parking in front of the two-story
building that was Ilex's main office. He was still acting very tenuous as he
approached the lobby but thought he'd keep going until any actual 'danger'
signs started flashing. As he wiped some sweat from his brow, he noticed his
hand was shaking mildly. Come on, John, get a grip.
   He pushed open the glass door and walked in. As usual, the lobby was empty
so he made the left turn to the executive area toward his office. No Indians
yet, he thought to himself, then chuckled. 
   As soon as Sarah saw him, she got out of her seat, flashed a big smile and
said, "Good morning Mr. Patterson. There's someone I'd like you to meet."
   "Mister Patterson?" John spoke raising his eyebrows. She never called him
'Mr. Patterson'. Sarah was dressed up a bit more than usual. Her hair actually
looked like it had been combed and set. Normally she got it perm'ed once a
month and looked like she never touched it between times. 
   "Yes. Come over here." Sarah was beaming behind her obtrusive, thick-lensed
glasses.
   John noticed a tall woman of about 30 with short, wavy shaggy-blond hair
standing with her back toward them. She was dressed in a stylish business suit
and it looked as if she was reading something. Sarah tapped the woman on the
shoulder and spoke, "Naomi, I'd like you to meet Mr. John Patterson. He's our
Vice President in charge of Marketing, Contracts and Product Support." Then
Sarah turned to John, "Mr. Patterson, this is Naomi McFarland. She's your new
administrative assistant."
   Naomi instantly produced her right hand and offered it to John. "Pleased to
meet you," she said smiling softly and maintaining eye contact.
   John was dumbstruck. No one had said anything about hiring another
secretary. And why wasn't I told? He was starting to get angry but realized
how inconsiderate he was being. "Oh, pleased to meet you too." He took Naomi's
hand and shook it lightly. Then he turned to Sarah and spoke in a hushed, low,
sing-song voice, "Sar-ah, we've got to ta-alk." He kept his thin smile.
   Sarah responded in a like manner, "N-o, we-ee do-on't. Conrad's wai-ting."
   John looked at his watch. "Shit, you're right." He looked back at Naomi who
was staring him right in the eye. "Oh, sorry," he excused the profanity.
"Again, nice to meet you." He turned on his heels and entered Conrad
Anderson's, President and COO of Ilex, large office.
   
   Conrad did not get up as he usually did when John entered his office. John
extended his hand anyway so Conrad briefly shook it.
   "So tell me John, what's this 'thing' going on down in West Palm?"
   Right to the point, John thought. He didn't like Conrad's phrasing, calling
it a 'thing'. "Well Con, it's gotten rather sticky."
   Conrad was rocking slowly in his chair looking up at John behind his
reading glasses. "Sticky?" Apparently Conrad didn't care much for John's
choice of words either.
   "Well, yes." He was now fully intimidated in Conrad's presence but plunged
ahead anyway. He had no other option and wasn't sure how much Conrad knew.
"The Navy pulled back on the negotiation. I think the phrase is 'on-hold'
until they can truly fact-find the engineering scope."
   "And what made them do that?" Conrad was leading him. He already knew the
answer and made it clear by tacking the 'And' at the front of his question.
   John decided to just cut to the chase. "Shit Con, I was trying to break
loose a log jam down there. Our team damn well knew that we couldn't justify
keeping the C-5 card in and charge the government $200,000 for all that
non-value added engineering."
   Conrad shifted his glasses. "$200,000 of our CUSTOMER'S 'non-value added'
engineering, John. Let me say that again. Our CUSTOMER'S engineering, John --
Collins Military Communications Division." Conrad was clearly angry. He was
speaking very slowly and in a condescending manner. "What made you think you
could represent them and negotiate that piece out of the contract without
their knowledge?"
   "I figured I could reason with them later. They've listened to me before.
Christ, Con, I was the one that beat the bushes and found this program in the
first place. I was the one that brought both Sikorsky AND Collins to the
table." John's voice was rising. Conrad suspected Sarah could hear him all the
way out at her desk.
   He lowered his voice to indicate for John to do the same. "I'm familiar
with the history of the program. You've done a fine job up until now."
   Up until now? John thought he was hearing things.
   Conrad continued, "However, I can't have Jack Borgman up there in Cedar
ringing me three times a day, calling you every name in the book, as well as
saying that you are a liar and the most unethical bastard he's ever done
business with in his 30 years in the industry."
   "Conrad, I can explain..."
   "No. Let me finish." He paused for effect. "John, you're off the program. I
have to do it for Borgman's sake but you know I'd do it anyway. We can't have
a charge running around the marketplace that Ilex is unethical. There's way
too much at stake right now for our reputation to take a hit like that.
Borgman wanted you fired. I compromised and handed the program to Dooling."
   "Dooling?" John wasn't ready for this. "Don works for me."
   "Not on this program. He reports directly to me."
   God, it was worse than John could have ever imagined. He almost wished he
had been fired as he stared down at the carpet in Conrad's office. 
   Conrad could see that he was hurt and broken so he offered a bit of
compassion in the wake of the ire. "You'll get through this John. I know you
understand why it had to come to this. Al and I still want you running the
marketing show. That's where your talent is anyway." Conrad reached out and
put his hand on John's shoulder then decided to change the subject. "Hey, did
you meet the new secretary?"
   This was another sore subject with John. Normally, he would've given Conrad
some friendly shit for hiring her without consulting him or giving him a
chance to interview the candidate. Now, here he was figuratively bleeding all
over the carpet and Conrad was rubbing salt in the wound. "Yes," was all he
could manage.
   "She's going to be handling you and Mike. Al and I will keep Sarah. Poor
Sarah has been run ragged lately. I thought she needed some help."
   John was feeling a bit bolder now. "Con, don't you think that I should've
had a say in this? I mean, if she's going to be working for Mike and I....."
   "Hey...you've been out of the office for three of the last four weeks. I
had to do something pronto or lose Sarah altogether. I'm sorry John. You're
right. I'd have given you the chance to interview her if we had had the time."
Conrad winked at him and continued, "Besides, she's a real looker, don't you
think?"
   'Looker'? he thought. Who uses that term anymore? John just shook his head
and offered, "Yeah, if you think Ellen DeGeneres is a 'looker'." Then he
strolled out of Conrad's office with a mild look of disgust on his face.
   
   When John got to his office two doors down from Conrad's, he walked to his
chair and collapsed. He was nearly catatonic. He let his phone ring until
Naomi picked it up or it went to voice mail. Finally, he yelled out to her two
simple words; "No calls." Great, she's probably wishing SHE had met ME too,
before taking the job. Fuck it, I don't care. 
   Naomi transferred John's line to ring at her desk first so he could have
complete silence and privacy. It was nice. John had never sat at his desk
during a workday in complete isolation and just stared around the room before.
He stared at his bookshelves, he stared at his blank computer screen, he
stared out his window at the trees rustling in the gentle breeze. Activity was
going on all around him behind the walls of his office. He could hear the soft
din of printers, fax machines, air conditioning and people's voices but it was
all very distant and muffled. It was peaceful just sitting and staring. John
was just about to ponder his exchange with Conrad when the view from his
window made him sit up and take notice.
   John's office was on the first floor along with the rest of the Ilex
executives. None of the big tinted picture windows offered much of a view
except the usual business park landscaping and visitor parking lot. However,
John's office had a minor bonus that he relished and would never trade with
anyone. Just to the right of center of his view was a double door that opened
up to a small patio with several tables covered by large umbrellas. This was
one of the building's designated smoking areas. The tables were in perfect
view if John pushed his chair away from his desk, moved closer to the glass
and peered at a 45-degree angle. Oh, what a view he would have on pleasant,
calm days when all the women in the building were out smoking and enjoying the
sun! He was in such a funk right now, he was surprised that this woman that
had just sat down to smoke caught his eye. But it did! This was the new one.
It was Naomi.
   John had never had a woman work for him that smoked. Most of the women he
had observed on the patio were from the Ilex factory. They were assemblers or
stock-assistants, mostly 'blue-collar' workers. But some of the women were
from the professional ranks such as Engineering, Finance or HR. These were the
ones that appealed to John. They were always nicely dressed and usually smoked
long, all-white cigarettes. These 'sightings' were one of the things John
looked forward to when he got up in the morning. They would help him through
the dry spells when he could not smoke himself. Or when I'm not fucking Jenni
while she smokes, he thought. God, where did that come from? He didn't have to
waste time answering...he knew. He was getting horny again. He was watching
Naomi light what looked like a very long cigarette. A 120? Oh my God, it is.
It's a Virginia Slims 120! God-bless you, Conrad! John shifted his position as
he felt the familiar uncomfortable bulge in his pants.
   Naomi smoked like a goddess. She was sitting alone talking to no one so all
she did was smoke. She was very relaxed in her style yet, because there was
nothing else to do, she would practically begin another puff just as she
finished exhaling the previous one. John was getting very turned on watching
this. He was fairly unimpressed with Naomi when he met her but now, Mother of
God! She smokes! Her big tits and shapely body now served to accent this
wonderful package.
   He watched as she exhaled most of her smoke in one try but noticed that she
would continue to purse her lips and blow several more times until no smoke
was visible. Then she would casually look around, flick her ash off and begin
the process again. John was thankful for the tinted glass in the offices. He
had once tested it from the outside and had been delighted to learn that from
the patio, no one could see inside the building -- only a murky reflection.
   Naomi was coming close to finishing her cigarette. After taking a long
puff, she inhaled and looked down at it. With smoke already deep inside her,
she took another long puff and stood up. As she walked towards the big cement
sand ashtray, she took yet another long puff then pushed the cigarette into
the sand. She paused, almost as if to let the three puffs, now deep in her
lungs, soak in. She then let go an endless stream of smoke as she headed for
the double glass doors and back toward her workstation.
   Wow! She's mine! She works for me. Unbelievable! John was ecstatic. He had
almost forgotten about his earlier troubles this morning with Conrad. I have
got to talk to her, he thought as he heard her arrive back at her desk. 
   John jumped to his feet, opened his door and walked directly over to the
counter around Naomi's new desk. He was nervous. "Naomi...hi. Hey, I'm sorry
about earlier and the curt introduction. I was really distracted when I got in
this morning, and meeting you, well, it just caught me unaware I guess.
Sorry."
   Naomi looked up. John was expecting a pleasant smile and warm response.
After all, I am a good-looking man AND her boss, he thought. 
   "Will you be wanting your phone routed back to your office now?" was all
she asked. Then she lifted her eyebrows and smiled carefully as if to
punctuate the question.
   This caught John off-guard. He expected a lot more friendliness from her,
especially this being her first day and all. "Uh, yeah, that's fine, I guess."
He stared at her lips remembering just minutes ago that they held that long
cigarette. He imagined that he could see her pursing them and releasing all
that wonderful smoke from her chest. "Oh, when you get some free time this
afternoon, I'd like to go over my routine with you and what I will need from
an, uh, assistant. Will you have some time?"
   "After lunch, I meet with Mister, uh, Smith."
   "Yeah, Mike," John continued for her. "After Mike, then come see me, okay?
Oh, and call me John."
   Naomi offered no response as John headed back into his office.
   
   Weird, John thought. She's weird. He careened his neck and tried to steal a
furtive look at her through the office door as the morning wore on. He could
see her short, slightly curled, dark blond hair above the partition but could
not make out her face. She did look like Ellen DeGeneres, John reminded
himself. Not quite the 'looker' that Conrad had said but after that cigarette,
John figured she'd be well worth 'looking' at in the future.
   He continued to stare. What's her story, anyway? Not very friendly. Doesn't
appear to be married.... hmm. Just then, Naomi stood up from her workstation.
Now he could see her full face as he quickly pretended to look at his computer
monitor. She reached down and grabbed something from her purse. Her
cigarettes! She's going to smoke again! John was about to be treated to
another sighting. This bit of good fortune was wonderful news. Ilex's smoking
crowd had been dwindling lately. It seemed that just after New Year's, the
usual number of smokers (both male and female) started to decrease. Damn New
Year's resolutions. Now, it was March and the number of women smokers from the
professional side of the company had not rebounded as it usually did.
   Naomi entered the patio and took her same spot at the table as last time.
John rotated his seat towards the glass. He watched as she casually lit up
just as she'd done before. The cigarette in her mouth looked so unbelievably
long. John couldn't recall seeing a 120 smoker in a long time. The brand
seemed to suit Naomi as she brought the long white object to her lips for a
second drag.
   The computer in front of John was showing him a long string of unopened
emails. He glanced at it, then back out the window. He decided to settle
something that had been bugging him since he left the house this morning. Yes,
now's the time, he reminded himself. He continued to watch Naomi but between
her puffs, he opened his address book, clicked on jetoliver@mindspring.com and
started to construct a new message.
   
   Dear Jenni:
   I'm back in CA. It was wonderful to see you a second time. I enjoyed dinner
and also spending the night with you. You are a very warm and charming woman,
Jenni. I am certainly fortunate to have known you. 
   I was lucky enough to have closed on the deal that I was working on up in
West Palm Beach yesterday and I probably won't be coming back to Florida or
Atlanta in the near future. I think that this is for the best anyway. You're
young and still have many challenges and opportunities ahead. I don't think we
should see each other again in the future. If you'd like though, we can stay
in touch via email - I'd still like to hear from you. 
   I feel privileged to have known you and I wish you all the best.
   Fondly,
   John
   
   It was a sappy message. John knew it. It was also a chicken-shit way to end
their....their what, their friendship? At this point, he didn't care. It was
very clear to him last night when he got home and crawled into bed with Jill,
that he could not see Jenni again. God, what was I doing? Jill had been cool
to him since their exchange on the phone last night but still -- she's my wife
for crying out loud. I'm married.
   John reread the short missive. He actually hoped she wouldn't continue to
write him - he offered it in the email as a polite concession. Now, he knew it
was right to send it but something bothered him. What will she do? What will
be her reaction when she receives it? Maybe I should call her. That would give
me some instant feedback. No, I can't call her.
   He watched Naomi take another leisurely puff on her half-spent cigarette.
In the absence of other people on the patio, he noted that she was playing
with her smoke as she exhaled. A little came out her nose, then she pushed
some through her mouth and watched it drift into the breeze. Then she exhaled
the remainder through her nose. John was captivated by the show. As Naomi
started yet another puff, John subconsciously moved the mouse on his desktop
to the middle of the screen and clicked 'Send' on his newly constructed
message.
   "Well, no taking it back now," he spoke aloud as the letter instantly
became part of the ether.

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