A Misplaced Letter

"I don't know. It was pure chance my cousin's flight was overbooked in first place." She had no idea what was going on. Why Mr. Curtis was here, she still couldn't bring herself to call him Douglas, and what he wanted were still a mystery.

"Cousin?" his entire body leapt at the word, grasping as if for his very sanity.

"Yes, my cousin Victor. He travels a lot, I'm sure I've mentioned him," she trailed off taking sip of apple juice.

He only dimly recalled her mentioning anything about her family, as he shook his head. Why hadn't he paid more attention? How could he have been so blind? Douglas controlled the urge to wrap his arms around her and kiss her. After all she hadn't been feeling well, and he wouldn't take advantage of her weakened state. She did look weak, dark rings under her eyes and a paleness that was unnatural.

Her knees went weak, her stomach rolled. Damn it she thought not now, not here in front of her boss. She tried to hold herself up with her arms.

He noticed her fingers were chalky white on the counter and moved around it. Seeing her knees buckling, he wrapped his arms around her to help her stand. Her face looked pale and drawn. Douglas watched as she turned her head towards sink and emptied her stomach. Normally he'd be revolted, but all he felt was concern.

She felt so embarrassed, after throwing up, she grabbed a paper towel and wiped her mouth. Not that she ever dreamed he would find her attractive, but now there was no hope.

He picked her up like a child and carried her to bedroom. Without any sexual thoughts in mind, he laid Miriam on her bed she lay on her side. He wasn't sure what to do now but sat on edge of bed and began rubbing her back.

She closed her eyes unable to believe what she was feeling, his large warm hands rubbing in circles on her back. Rolling to lay on her stomach, she thought she must be dreaming. She figured she was still in bathtub asleep having a sexual dream.

He felt her move and thought she was pulling away until she lay on her front. He continued with the back rub, feeling clearly that she wasn't wearing a bra, as he had thought. It didn't distract him as it once might have. Only when he heard her breath even out to peaceful sleep did he become aware of where he was. Douglas didn't want to leave her alone, so he quietly moved to kitchenette. Rinsing out the sink and doing dishes, he felt oddly comfortable doing the domestic chores.

She wasn't sure how long she slept only that when she woke up, it was already dark. It had been three or so in afternoon when Douglas had arrived. "Douglas," she mused out loud, the name suited him.

He had stayed and upon hearing his name he rushed to bedroom, it was past eight. Unsure of what to say he stood there for moment, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. Miriam slowly sat up rubbing her tired eyes, hands searching for her glasses. He picked up her glasses and handed them to her. She blinked as if she had hoped he had left.

She sat up in bed glancing up at him, feeling embarrassed about throwing up. At the same time, she wondered why he had stayed and what to do now. Miriam was hungry and wanted to curl up with him under the sheets and fall back to sleep at the same time. Standing up, she wondered how awful she looked.

He reached out a hand to steady her. Miriam finally had some color back in her face, but her silence made him nervous.

She felt his hand and pulled back. Her head suddenly pounding, "I need some ibuprofen. I guess I was early in my assumption that I could eat soup." The simple statement broke the tension and she flicked on a lamp. She figured she looked a wreck, yet he had stayed. Wearing the same loose clothing, her breasts moving freely as she went to bathroom.

Douglas watched her closely as she moved to bathroom. She took a bottle from behind the mirror. Taking two pills out, she placed them in her lips. Then turned the water on and scooped up a handful and drank. Even as he worried about her health he considered the gesture erotic.

"Food," she murmured. Then turning to him she continued, "Douglas, why are you still here?" Miriam had hoped he was delusion. The intent look on his face was all too real.

"I couldn't leave you," he softly said his voice rough with emotion. He reached out and smoothed her hair back from her face. Moving from his position, he stopped blocking the door. He inwardly groaned as she brushed past him, the short contact electric.

She moved to kitchen trying to ignore him. Opening the fridge, she saw very little and nothing remotely edible.

He was like a shadow standing behind her. It was all he could do to keep himself from sliding his hands around her waist and whispering in her ear.

"I'm fine, you can go now," Miriam wasn't sure how she managed to sound so cold when her entire body was so hot. She wondered if this was another psychosomatic symptom. Turning around too quickly, she found herself pressed against his body. She couldn't step back and the look in his eyes made her unable to turn away. Her breath was caught in her throat and skin flushed, as she remained trapped like a deer caught in the headlights.

To him, she looked as if she'd faint at any moment, "You need something to eat. I'll order something in." His hand went to her waist to help steady her again.

She imagined his large hand sliding under her shirt. "You don't need to go to the trouble, I'll be fine."

He placed his other hand on her cheek, "You're burning up." Without pausing, he picked her up and shut the fridge with his foot. Carrying her back to the bathroom, he felt as if the meaning of life had been made clear.

"Put me down," she knew why she was hot and it wasn't a fever. There was no cure for it and why was he acting like he cared suddenly?

He heard the anger in her tone and slowly put her down. She looked up at him and he saw something strange flashing in her eyes.

Damn it, she thought, why does he have to be so sexy? "The doctor said I just need some rest and No Stress." She emphasized the last two words, as his very being was the main source of all her stress.

He opened his lips, but no words would come out. "I'm sorry," he finally managed to say. He moved around behind her, placing his hands on her hips began to rub her back under her loose shirt. It was odd; normally she was fully clothed and tired when he had given her a back rub. This was somehow very different; as his fingers slide on her bare skin feeling her relax almost magically.

When she felt his fingers sliding under her shirt, it felt like a dream. She pulled her shirt over her head. All symptoms had faded away, even her headache, a new ache for him had replaced it.

He was so intent on rubbing her back that he had closed his eyes. When he heard her pulling the shirt over her head, his eyes opened and her head turned towards him. Then her shoulders until she was facing him. He was stunned, his hands had slide along her waist and remained on her back.

She didn't know what to say, after all this was her dream. Her fingers moved up, undoing the buttons on his business shirt. Seeing his jacket slung over sofa, it seemed normal for him to be there, in her apartment.

The silence made the whole thing seem surreal as he watched her deft fingers undo his shirt his arms dropping to sides so she could slide it off his shoulders. "Miriam," he hated breaking the silence, but if she really wasn't feeling well then it could be medication making her act this way.

He said her name, she ignored it her fingers sliding over his chest admiring the warm skin. Her fingers circling, sliding, exploring, just letting herself revel in every sensation.

"Miriam," she didn't seem to hear him the first time, and now he was sure it was medication affecting her behavior.

"Hmm?" it was a dreamy questioning tone as she looked up. Something was wrong he should look amorous. Then she blinked and realized she wasn't dreaming. That she had just made an utter fool of herself. Her hands drew back as if she had been playing with fire.

Her horrified expression, as her hands covered her breasts told him he was right. Every inch of his body wanted to continue yet his brain reminded him that she was unwilling. He picked up his shirt and wrapped it around her shoulders. The look in her eyes, it cut him to pieces, he was just glad he had stopped. Even as a tiny voice inside his head asked what would have happened if he hadn't.

"I'm so sorry. I, I," she stammered unable to believe she had behaved in such a manner. Her body asking what would she have ended up doing if he hadn't stopped her?

He drew a ragged breath, "Don't be," he was supposed to be helping her relax not adding to the tension. "Why don't you get dressed and we'll get something to eat?" He felt as nervous as a teenager, asking a girl out on that all crucial first date. His palms were sweating and he withdrew them from her body.

"Okay," she sounded so small and insignificant. As she retreated to her bedroom, all she could think of was his bare chest. Miriam saw herself in the mirror, wearing loose navy drawstring sweat pants and a very male white shirt draped over her, her nipples dark and hard. What must he think of me seeing me like this, she thought. Taking a slow deep breath, she turned from the mirror and slipped his shirt off.

Wondering what she was thinking, and who she had thought he was when she had ran her fingers over his skin. The memory made him look down. He adjusted his pants, hoping his erection wasn't too obvious and patiently waited.

She pulled on a bra and slide off the sweat pants, another glance in mirror reminded her of the softness of her body. A tear trailed down her cheek, Douglas was just being nice, she told herself as she pulled on a favorite pair of jeans. Before she had always thought they were sexy, now she didn't care. It was a cold day, so she pulled on large sweater that concealed her body. Miriam ran her fingers through her tangle of hair and took a few extra minutes to comb the waist length brown tresses. She took a moment to braid it as she opened door. He was sitting there on arm of sofa like a shirtless Adonis. She licked her lips, she had forgotten about his shirt. She glanced at clock it was nearly nine now, at least restaurants would be deserted. He wouldn't have to be seen with her as she looked now.

He glanced up as he heard the door open. She looked good, too good, he mused. Damn it, he thought, why was it all he could think of was the way her body had felt pressed to his, the way her fingers had touched him burned in his mind. The way her jeans clung to her full hips and well muscled legs. How the soft sweater draped over her full breasts just hinting at the treasure lying under it.

"Your shirt," she softly said her mind still on how close she had come to kissing him. She retrieved it quietly, the mirror reflecting her image. Tired, frumpy, plain, dull, and unattractive all leapt to her mind. No, wonder he had stopped her, what man in his right mind could desire her?

Something had changed by time she returned. Her eyes had lost a brightness, a confidence, he wasn't sure what. He took the shirt and quickly put it on feeling ashamed that he had let it go so far in first place. He did it to fast buttoning up the wrong way having an extra button on top.

"Let me," the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them as she moved forward undoing the buttons again. Slowly redoing them, trying to ignore the part of her that wanted to feel his bare skin against hers.

He was nervous and fumbling the buttons was so idiotic. He couldn't stop her as she redid his shirt, the gesture was intimate. He couldn't help but imagine she felt same way. He dismissed the thought; she merely wanted something to eat. Miriam had always made sure his tie was correct before and he had never considered the closeness of her body then. Looking back he wondered how many times he had ruined an opportunity to kiss her.

She was so intent on not screwing up that she missed the look on his face. The look a man has the instant he realizes that what he wants is right in front of him and that he has messed up a million chances to have it and now may be too late.

He almost kissed her then, but she pulled back saying, "Done, I'm starving, let's eat."

Her words broke into his thoughts as he grabbed his coat and headed to door. At first he wanted to go somewhere nice, but then he thought she would think it was a date. Miriam had already rejected him too many times physically for him to feel comfortable risking himself again so soon.

All she wanted right now was to be left alone with a juicy cheeseburger. Unless she had option of using his washboard stomach as a plate. She caught herself blushing as the headed down the flights of stairs. Miriam headed to her car, he to his and glancing at each other, she very nearly laughed.

"You drive, I'll pick the restaurant." He jingled his keys, as she walked towards him in silent agreement. She was somewhat nervous about getting in his car, but it wasn't like he was going to whisk her off to some secluded cabin and ravish her. Miriam looked out window hiding her red face from thinking of being ravished.

"So, where are we going?" he finally asked as he maneuvered his sleek black car out of parking space.

"How about Wendy's? I just feel like a frosty and a greasy cheeseburger."

He glanced at her, it was so strange to her a woman declare her desire to eat something fattening. Then again, he realized women probably only ate salads on dates to make them appear delicate. Douglas was glad they had always been real around each other. Then again now they were acting like strangers.

They zipped into parking lot and she murmured, "Can we use the drive up window? I don't feel like dealing with people tonight."

It was a simple enough request, but felt like a slap on the face calling him an unwelcome intrusion. His mood had certainly changed from the angry but concerned about her health that had brought him to her in first place. Now he just felt lost, "What do you want?" his mind silently wanted her to say she wanted him, but that was wishful thinking.

"Ummm," she licked her lips, leaning over to see menu, "a number four and a small frosty."

He watched her lick her lips and was reminded of why he couldn't work with her, yet couldn't work without her either. He barely heard the speaker ask him what he wanted. "Two number fours and a small frosty," he said his voice spiking and hitting hit note in middle.

The speaker repeated order, gave him a total and he drove around feeling like a complete idiot since his voice had cracked.

Miriam smiled, trying to figure out why he was nervous. She had brought her purse along and dug out a ten dollar bill to pay for food.

He waved off the ten dollar bill, not feeling confident in his voice's ability to stay even as he paid for food, and handed her the bag and took the drinks.

Miriam decided the frosty was best thing to start with and began eating the smooth chocolate ice cream with no difficulty. The chill felt good on her throat and she was content with being quiet. When they pulled back into parking spot she found herself thinking of how she never got to make out in a car as a teenager.

She unbuckled herself and reached for her fries just as his hand went into bag. "Feeling better?" Douglas finally asked as he pulled his hand back. Damn it, he cursed himself, why did he feel as if he were walking on eggshells suddenly?

"The queasiness has passed, I'm ready to move on to french fries." She smiled, if only, she thought, this were a real date. "Thanks for the meal. I guess I'll see you around." She removed her sandwich and fry box and juggling the two with her drink tried to open the car door.

"Let me," he said looking for any excuse to move. Taking her food putting it back in bag, he carried it out of car and moved around to open her car door.

"Thanks," the air was silent for awkward moment. "Would you like to come up to my place to eat?" her voice sounded strained to her ears. This wasn't a date she reminded herself. If it was a good night kiss would be required, and Douglas definitely didn't want to kiss her.

The trek up the stairs was filled with polite talk; she was only half listening as he mentioned he had missed her this week. Now faced with her door she replied, "You are the one who transferred me." Miriam had been going to add on, but she didn't have the strength to argue. Being around Mr. Curtis was draining her and she wished he would go, or say anything that made sense. Sitting down on the couch she asked for her food, as she set both drinks down on coffee table. He put food on table, removed his jacket, and sat down.

The silence was unnerving, and all because of one misplaced letter. His mind instantly recalled the words, no matter how much he tried to block them out. Debating between silently munching his French fries, or trying to do what he had meant to do in the first place that day in office, when he had found her on the phone. He kept struggling as he watched her eat, mesmerized by how her lips moved.

"Your food is getting cold," she broke into his thoughts. She had finished her fries and was unwrapping her sandwich. Thinking that if he waited for the right moment, he would always be waiting. He opened his sandwich eating to avoid saying something stupid again.

She felt much better after eating; her eyes on his face watching him eat. Miriam tried to rationalize, that it was better that she wasn't working with him anymore. Her fantasies about him weren't conducive to a good working environment. That she had spent too much time alone with him and it was only natural that he became the focus of her fantasies.

She stood up rubbing her forehead, she was over thinking things. Another headache had emerged and she went to get some ibuprofen.

Douglas watched her get up, and was about to say something when he noticed she was rubbing her forehead. He had planned on spilling his guts after they finished eating, but now looked like a bad time.

She took the two pills, returned for her drink and washed them down. All she could think of was another nice warm bath and a good night's sleep. "Thanks Mr. Curtis," she couldn't bring herself to call him Douglas. "I should be back to work tomorrow," not that he cared; she couldn't even recall why he was here in the first place. The entire night had seemed like a string of barely connected events.

He didn't want to leave, but she was practically showing him the door. Douglas decided there was always tomorrow. He gathered his coat and went to door. She was standing next to it and opened it for him. Miriam looked worried, he leaned over a little bit took a deep breath and brushed his lips across hers. He swept out door murmuring, "See you tomorrow then."

She stood completely still, shocked her lips still tingling, had she imagined the kiss? Or had it been real? Her fingers traced her lips trying to decide. She closed the door and put it out of her mind so she could get some much needed rest.

His heart was still pounding as he sat in his car, staring at his steering wheel. What had he been thinking? What was she thinking now? What would happen if he saw her tomorrow? At least he had kissed her, he mused, and her lips had been softer than he dreamed. The look on her face was priceless; it made him wonder how her face looked at other times. Shaking his head, he started car determined not to get too far ahead of himself. After all, it was just a kiss.

She drew herself a bubble bath, and sank into the warm water. Her aches were soothed and she remembered a particularly intimate back rub. Had it been Douglas, in her thoughts she was brave enough to call him by name. The day had been so very odd; she decided it was best to look at it with a fresh mind.