Just walked in the door.”
“Why haven’t you called?”
“As I remember it, you were pretty mad at me the last time I saw you.”
“Oh, baby, that’s over. I forgive you.” She followed that with a laugh.
Mike took a deep breath. “Donna. Listen. I just don’t think this is going to work between us.”
“You don’t think what will work?”
“Any relationship between us. It’s just not going to happen.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t know what you’re saying. Besides, I don’t want to talk about this over the phone. Can we meet?”
“I don’t see why. Let’s just say we tried and it didn’t work.”
“Michael, please, meet with me. Come by and take me to lunch tomorrow. That’s safe for you. I can’t do anything in a restaurant, can I? Well, I could if you’d let me.”
“Donna…”
“Please, Mike. Just meet me. Please.”
Mike sighed. “OK. What time tomorrow?”
“Meet me in front of the DMV building at eleven thirty.”
“OK. Eleven thirty.”
Mike hung up and knew this was a bad idea. He should call her back and tell her no. Well, what can happen in public? He’ll meet her and tell her face to face.
After she hung up, Donna stared at the phone. She had dialed his phone number every fifteen seconds for the last two hours and finally just left a message. She cursed herself over and over for the way she acted on their last date. She knew she even made mistakes during her initial damage control. She should have made up some excuse like she just found out her grandfather was dying or some crap like that to explain her erratic actions. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! She knew better than to push a man like Mike Valentine. What was she thinking? This dumb Irishman wasn’t like other men; he didn’t roll over and want his belly scratched just because she bounced her boobs at him. He would take careful planning and thought, like the D-Day invasion. She had to patch up her stupid mistakes before it was too late. She couldn’t believe she had acted like such a dumb kid. This was the big leagues now and she couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that.
There was a pad of paper in front of her with the name Michael traced over and over again. It was a new pad but the tracing had worn through to the last sheet. Still she traced.
The next day, Donna got up early because she wanted to take special care getting ready. She had been beside herself since their last date because of the idiotic mistakes she made. Still, the stupid Irish Mick was hers and nobody else’s. The sooner he realized it, the better. Unable to sleep, she thought most of the night about what to do and had decided on a course of action.
He wasn’t like other men; she should have seen that immediately. Every other man she had ever known she’d been able to manipulate with sex. It was easy. Bat your eyes and flick your tongue and they were like putty. But this idiot was different. She’d never met anyone like him before. He required careful planning and step by step execution.
For right now, she had to concentrate on damage control. She made a huge mistake; she knew it, but she thought she knew how to fix it. She’d just be his friend. No pressure. No hard sell. Just be his good buddy. Get him accustomed to her. Get him to relax and enjoy being with her - that was the first phase.
He had to be used to women coming on to him. Thinking about his body sent moister between her legs, and she could only image what it did to normal women. He must be on constant guard against aggressive women and she should never have treated him like a normal man. What in the hell had she been thinking?
She thought about the twenty-six million dollars from Ranko Oil resulting from the death of his wife and daughter and became ever wetter. Well, too bad for you and your little brat, bitch. He’s mine now - him and that anaconda between his legs and all that money. Mine.
Donna carefully picked out what she wanted to wear. She knew she had a body. She worked at it hard enough. Two hours every day at the gym and eating the right food. That was OK. Now it was going to pay off big time. It was all going to come together for her with this big, dumb Irishman.
She’d used her body before to get what she wanted. She was a stripper when she was eighteen and always liked men looking at her. She was older now but still had the body. She’d wormed her way to a second level supervisor position by seducing people and then blackmailing them. She was good at it. She’d land this Irish hunk and still get what she wanted on the side.
She picked out a pair of light tan slacks that she knew showed off her great ass. Then she laid a tailored silk blouse and a paisley vest out on her bed, and finally picked out some high-heeled pumps that matched the slacks. She showered, washed her hair, and shaved her legs just in case - you never know, she told herself. Then she touched up her nails with the bright red polish that showed off her hands and finished her make up. She looked at herself in the mirror. “How can that bastard resist me?” she said. “I’m everybody’s wet dream.”
That morning, Mike got up an hour early and worked out extra hard. He decided it was time to increase his push-ups and pull-ups to five repetitions instead of four. He struggled at the end, feeling his muscles burn and strain. That was good. He liked to push himself.
As he got ready to pick up Donna, he was thinking this was a bad idea. He’d just have to end it. That’s all. No excuses; no concessions. Quick, fast, and in a hurry - end it.
When he drove downtown and parked in the DMV parking lot, it was twenty-five after. He walked around and stood in front of the building. He wasn’t there five seconds when a pretty Black girl opened the door and said, “Come in, Mike.”
Mike walked in and saw Donna on the phone. She motioned to wait a second. He looked around at the lines going everywhere. He’d been here before to take care of business and it was never a pleasant experience. There had to be a hundred people in line and everybody looked in a bad mood.
Donna finished her call and hung up. The girl who let Mike in leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Ummmm um. Girlfriend, where did you find him?”
Donna picked up her purse and coat. “He can’t live without me. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
The girl laughed and Donna wiggled her fingers bye. “I may be late.”
“I understand,” said the girl.
Donna opened the counter gate and walked through. He had to admit: she was a sexy woman. She smiled and he caught a whiff of perfume that put him off his guard.
“Hi,” she said. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“Just got here.”
She smiled at him. “There’s an Italian restaurant right down the street. Would you mind going there?”
“Sounds good.”
“Good, because I already made reservations.” He opened the door for her and followed her out.
“Um,” she said. “It’s cold.”
She put her arm through his and felt him pull back a little.
“Come on, Mike. I’m cold, that’s all. Just relax. I promise: no more pressure. I just want to talk. That’s all. If I can’t be your lover, then I want to be your friend.” She stopped walking and looked at him. “OK, big guy?”
“OK,” he said, “But I’m telling you right now we ain’t getting married.”
She started walking again. “Agreed. I just said that to make you think I was really just an old fashioned girl at heart.”
They reached the restaurant and Mike opened the door for her. “What the hell does that mean?”
She