Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Visions Of Johanna By Jeremy Spencer Copyright 2004

   All rights reserved.  This story may be downloaded for personal use, but
any posting to a website, free or otherwise, is strictly forbidden.  If you
have found this story somewhere other than my page
(/~Jeremy_Spencer/) or at Storiesonline, please let me
know by filling in a feedback form at either place.

   Author's Note: The following is a fictional story.  In it, fictional
characters have hot, sweaty, unprotected, fictional sex.  They live in a
fictional world without fictional diseases.  You do not.  Be careful.  All
characters in this story are old enough to know what they're doing.  Now,
on to the show!

   *****

   What am I doing?  Kyle wondered as he walked up the front steps to his
new apartment.  Everything I had, everyone I knew is back in Kansas City.
How did I end up here?

   His question had been asked by many of his friends and relatives, and
Kyle wasn't sure he had ever been able to convince them of his reasoning.

   "It's a fresh start," he had mentioned each time he was asked.  "Life
was getting stale.  I hated going to work.  Things just weren't looking
"up" for me like they used to.  I needed a change of pace.

   Most people had simply nodded at that, but not his sister Jamie.  Kyle
grinned, remembering their conversation.  His older sibling had never been
one to mince words, and tact had also never been a strong suit.

   "What a load of horse shit," had been her exact words.  "Why are you
running away from us?" she had asked.

   "What do you mean?" Kyle had asked weakly, certain that Jamie could see
right through his flimsy story, positive she had ascertained his true
reason for leaving the only city he'd ever called home.

   "Work was fine here," she spat out.  "Your family and friends are here!
What the hell were you thinking?" she asked, and Kyle found himself amazed
at the venom her heard in her voice.  He had always thought himself closer
to his younger brother, who had taken his explanation at face value. 
Jamie, on the other hand, actually seemed upset to see him go.

   "I just...  it was a good opportunity," he answered weakly.  "They
offered me a chance to move up, and I took it." It sounded flimsy to his
own ears, and judging by the look of disgust on her face, Jamie seemed to
agree.  He hadn't lied though, however evasive he was.  He really had hated
going to work.  Things weren't looking "up" like they used to.  He did need
a change of pace.

   But in reality, Kyle knew he was running away, and he was sure that his
sister knew the real reason.  It had been almost three years, but still the
memory haunted him.

   Johanna.

   There was just too much in Missouri that reminded him of her.  Too many
places they'd been together, jokes they'd laughed over, too many memories.
He felt trapped in the past, a past without a hope of a future.

   So he had taken the opportunity to transfer to a different department,
in a different city in a different state.  It wasn't really a step up the
corporate ladder, although he would now have more people working under him
than before.  He would have more responsibilities and as such a larger
paycheck, but there really wasn't that much difference between being the
regional vice president of marketing and the assistant to the national vice
president of marketing.  Technically he was now being groomed for bigger
and better things, but Kyle couldn't see that his move mattered, not in any
substantial sense at least.

   But he had taken the job anyway.  Anything to get away from a house
haunted by his wife's presence.  And so here he was, hauling his suitcase
up a flight of stairs towards his new home, still sweaty from the two days
he had spent driving from Missouri to Washington.

   "Welcome to Seattle," said his new landlord - Matthew was his name, Kyle
remembered - an elderly man Kyle thought had probably fought in the Second
World War.

   "Thanks," he answered somewhat distractedly.

   "If you need anything just holler," Matthew said.  "Just be sure to
holler real loud," he grinned, pointing at the rather large hearing aid
protruding from his left ear.  Kyle started as the old man's laugh suddenly
turning to a hacking cough that seemed almost to shake his frail body to
the bone.

   "You okay?" he asked in concern, wondering where the nearest hospital
was on the chance the man suddenly dropped unconscious...  or worse.

   "Haven't felt this good in years," the man cackled, turning to leave. 
"See you around," he said.

   Kyle shook his head in wonder as the man shuffled away, his veiny hand
gripping the bannister for support as he descended the apartment building's
rickety staircase.

   Somebody shoot me before I get that old, he thought to himself before
opening the door to his new home.

   Kyle groaned as his eyes swept over his new living room.  The movers had
certainly been meticulous in their care, but the large, well-stacked pile
of boxes they had left behind would easily be more than a day's work for
him to deal with.

   Might as well get to it, he thought, pulling open the first box, simply
marked "Miscellaneous."

   More quickly than he might have imagined, Kyle began working his way
through his belongings.  Upon opening the third box, Kyle let out a groan
and collapsed back into the one chair not occupied with the detritus of the
moving process.

   "Oh shit," he mumbled quietly, looking at the framed picture he now held
in his hand.  "I thought I got rid of that months ago, about the time you
left me." Johanna, why can't you let me live in peace?  he wondered,
fighting the urge to smash the picture against the far wall.

   *****

   Never again, swore Kyle the next morning as he walked into work.  That's
the last time I drink that much on an empty stomach, especially the night
before such an important day.  Kyle looked at the large clock suspended
from the ceiling in the middle of the entryway, sighing with relief to see
he was still a few minutes early.

   Just enough time to stop off in the restroom and splash a little cold
water on my face, he thought.  Anything to make myself more presentable.

   After a quick stop, Kyle found himself in front of a plain oak door
while a harried woman appeared ready to jump up and block his way.

   "What is it, Mrs.  Montgomery?" he asked, a bit more harshly than he'd
wanted, a product of too little sleep coupled with too much alcohol.

   "Mr.  Saunders?" the woman asked cautiously from behind her
prefabricated desk.  "It appears there was some trouble with your
paperwork."

   "What sort of trouble?" Kyle asked the woman, who now seemed ready to
curl up and hide beneath her desk.

   "We all knew you were arriving today," she said slowly, "but it appears
the notice didn't make it to the entire team, and your new office isn't
quite ready."

   "That's fine," Kyle shrugged, reaching for the doorknob which to his
surprise came off in his hand.

   "Sorry," the secretary yelped, a look of panic on her face.

   "That wasn't supposed to happen, was it?" Kyle laughed, trying to fit
the knob back into place.

   Finally the knob seemed secure and Kyle once more attempted to open the
door, eventually succeeding in gaining access to his new work home.  Kyle
took one step into the room before stopping short, his progress slowed both
by the overpowering paint fumes and a total lack of any office furniture,
much less carpeting.

   "I'm sorry," his secretary said again.  "There's a temporary office set
up for you."

   "Where?" Kyle sighed wearily, wondering how much worse the day could go.

   "Downstairs," was his secretary's answer.  Kyle groaned inwardly,
remembering his quick tour of the corporate headquarters.

   "Not by..."

   "By the phone room," she answered apologetically.  "Sorry."

   "It's okay," he shrugged.  "I don't suppose it's your fault, is it?" he
asked, trying to make light of the situation.  Unfortunately his attempt at
humor failed miserably.

   "Absolutely not," his secretary almost huffed.  "If it had been up to
me, your office would have been finished last week, but no one asks me
about these kind of things.  And another thing," she continued, starting to
build momentum, "were you aware that the contractors only showed up
yesterday to start work?  And they left early!  I mean, if the assistant to
the national..."

   "I understand," Kyle laughed, surprised to realize he wasn't all that
upset about his temporary location.  If she talks this much all the time I
won't be able to get any work done, he thought.  Maybe this isn't that bad
a thing after all.

   "Are you sure?" she asked, seemingly near tears.

   "Positive," he nodded.  "Just point me in the right direction and I'll
be out of your way.  Fair enough?"

   "Oh yes," she gushed.  "Thank you!"

   Soon, Kyle found himself trudging down a long hallway toward his new,
temporary office.  It was, as he had thought, far away from any of the
other executives he was supposed to be working with, but at least it was
cool in the basement, and instead of the constant chatter of voices and
ringing of telephones, he was happy to hear only a dull roar of voices.

   Mercifully, the key he had been given seemed to work in all the right
doors and Kyle spent the next hour moving his desk and filing cabinets
around the office.  Eventually Kyle had the room to his liking and went off
in search of something important.

   "Excuse me," he asked an attractive woman, a brunette he estimated was
only a few years younger than himself.  "Where is the bathroom?"

   "New guy, huh?" she asked.

   "Yeah," he shrugged.

   "That's cool.  We all have to start somewhere."

   "The bathrooms?" he repeated.

   "Sorry!  They're down that way," she answered, pointing with her left
hand down the hallway.  Not married, Kyle thought as he saw her fingers
were devoid of any rings.  Stop it, he shook his head slightly, but the
years as a bachelor had produced habits too strong to break, even during
the months when he had been a married man.

   "Thanks," he answered out loud.

   "No problem," the woman smiled, reaching out to shake his hand.  "I'm
Heather," she said brightly.  Her fingers were cool to the touch and Kyle
found himself growing slightly short of breath as her eyes locked into his
own.

   "Kyle," he answered.  "Kyle Saunders."

   "Nice to meet you, Kyle Saunders," she said.  "You'd better hurry
though," she grinned, releasing his hand.  "You don't want to get on
Estelle's bad side."

   "Huh?" Kyle responded, mentally kicking himself.  Smooth, he thought. 
Real smooth.

   "Estelle," she laughed.  "She'll be on my case just for getting a
coffee. Don't let her catch you taking a long bathroom break."

   "Who's Estelle?" Kyle asked, his curiosity overcoming his body's natural
urge.  Who is this girl?  he wondered.  And who does she think I am?

   "Estelle Martin," the woman answered, questions crinkling the corners of
her eyes.  "Don't you work in the phone room?" she asked.

   "No," Kyle answered.  "I work upstairs, but my office isn't ready, so
I'm down here, schlepping with you guys." Kyle paused, laughing lightly,
the embarrassed expression on the woman's face evident.

   "Oh my god," she stammered, the words running together into a long
jumble.  "I'm sorry!  I just assumed you were new, but I suppose you're a
little overdressed to be phone support," she said, glancing at his suit and
tie.

   "It's okay," he smiled.  "I can normally do without the jacket, but I
was trying to make a good impression on the first day."

   "That you did," Heather answered, her eyes lingering on his chest and
maybe, Kyle imagined hopefully, a point a bit further down.  There was an
awkward pause before Heather managed to pull her gaze back to Kyle's face
and Kyle could see a flush forming on her cheeks as Heather realized she
had been caught.

   "I should go," Kyle said lightly, enjoying the moment as Heather fought
her urge to run from the hallway.  "Bathroom's calling me," he explained.
"It was nice meeting you," he said.

   "You too," Heather answered softly and before Kyle could say another
word she had spun on her heel and began marching away.  Kyle stood there,
watching as the beige skirt Heather was wearing swished back and forth
across her calves.  Her legs were firm and tight, like those a dancer might
have, and as he watched the smooth curve of her buttocks swaying from side
to side Kyle was surprised to find himself beginning to become aroused, the
first he could remember, since Johanna's death.

   "Bathroom," he said quietly to himself, the image of Johanna's face a
sudden intrusion into an otherwise pleasant moment.  He shook his head,
trying to remove her face from his memory but was unsuccessful.

   After a long-needed journey to the bathroom, Kyle found himself alone in
his office.  The phone was still not connected to a working jack, and so
the rest of his day went by in a blur and Kyle wondered if possibly he
really wasn't expected until the next week.

   Don't go looking for trouble, his first boss had told him.  If someone
wants you, let them come to you.

   Kyle took those words to heart, taking time to organize and then
reorganize his files and desk.  Eventually six o'clock rolled around and
Kyle took the stairs to the main floor.  He was heading out the front doors
when he heard a voice calling his name.

   "Mr.  Saunders!" he heard, and turned to see Heather running to catch
up.

   "Hey," he answered, smiling for the first time in many hours.  "Good to
see a familiar face."

   "Thanks," she grinned, falling into step beside him.  "How was your
first day?" she asked.

   "Good," he answered.  "Things went fairly smoothly," he continued,
"after I was accosted by this strange woman in the basement."

   "What happened?" Heather asked.

   "It was the strangest thing," Kyle replied, fighting to hold back a
smile.  "There I was, minding my own business, and this woman, out of
nowhere comes up to me and tells me I should get back to work or I'd get in
trouble!" He paused, watching as Heather processed the story, her look of
puzzlement fast turning to one of embarrassed annoyance.

   "You goof," she chided, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.  "I
thought something happened!"

   "I'm just teasing," he grinned.  "Actually, today was pretty boring. 
But I have to say, my office is about as clean as it will ever be."

   "I'll have to stop by sometime," she said.

   "Just watch out for Estelle," Kyle laughed as the two parted ways in the
parking lot.  "I hear she can be pretty strict about that sort of thing!"

   "I will," Heather promised.  "See you tomorrow!"

   "See you tomorrow," Kyle said, waving as he watched Heather get in her
car and drive away.

   Kyle's thoughts were a conflicted mess on his drive home.  For three
years he had remained alone, envisioning himself a celibate tribute to his
wife's memory.  For three years he had fought the offers of blind dates or
one night stands out of respect to Johanna, but suddenly he found himself,
for the first time since her death, thinking of another woman.

   What's happening?  he wondered as he pulled into his parking space in
front of his apartment complex.

   Sighing lightly in confusion, Kyle climbed the stairs and entered his
apartment, his sigh turning to a groan as he realized the job of unpacking
was barely started.  Rolling up his sleeves, Kyle grabbed another box and
roughly tore it open.  As he worked, he found himself thinking of Johanna,
her face occasionally replaced by that of Heather, a woman he had just met
and barely knew.

   *****

   Unfortunately the rest of the office seemed to realize Kyle was in the
building by the next morning, and by the time he reached his temporary
office in the basement Kyle had been accosted by numerous people wanting to
set up lunch or stop by for a meeting.

   What's this going to be like when I'm not down in the basement?  he
thought.  I wonder if I'm going to miss the solitude once I'm back on the
ninth floor?

   Just then Kyle heard a knocking on his door and he barked out a sharp,
"come in!"

   "Sorry to bother you," he heard a soft voice say, recognizing it
immediately as belonging to Heather.

   "Hey," he said, the tension in his face relaxing noticeably as he
recognized his guest.  "Sorry to sound so harsh.  I thought you were
someone else wanting some face time with me," he apologized.

   "Face time, huh?" she grinned, walking up and leaning against the corner
of his desk.  "With you?  I think I like the sound of that."

   Kyle frowned, trying to parse what she had said, finally blushing
slightly when he realized her meaning.  Could she possibly be serious?  he
wondered.  It had been years since he'd had to use his "signal" sensors. 
Johanna had been his first girlfriend in junior high, and only the fact
that he had been so intent on his career had kept the two of them from
marrying right out of college.  It was one of the biggest regrets of his
life that he had only been able to be her husband for seven months before
the drunk driver took her life.

   "You would?" he finally managed, looking up at the woman now leaning
down toward him.  Her movement caused the blouse she was wearing to stretch
dangerously tight over her breasts, and Kyle gulped as he realized she
wasn't wearing anything under the thin blue cotton.

   "I would," she grinned, smiling impishly as she leaned close.  "I saw
you yesterday and something just clicked, you know?" she asked, her breath
hot against his cheek.

   Suddenly there was another knock at the door and Kyle crashed back into
his chair in his haste to present an innocent looking scene to whoever
might be wanting his attentions.  Heather just grinned, slipping off his
desk to answer the door.

   "I'm sorry to bother you, Mr.  Saunders," said a large, brusque woman as
she barreled into the tiny office.  "I was wondering if you'd seen one of
my workers.  She's about this tall," she said, holding her hand about five
and a half feet off the ground.  "She has brown hair and she's supposed to
be in the phone room," the woman, who Kyle assumed was the famous Estelle,
explained.

   "Oh?" he asked.  "Are you looking for..."

   "Me?" Heather asked, turning to face the older woman.

   "Heather!" she sputtered, looking in disbelief as Heather grinned at
her. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

   "Mr.  Saunders was just about to give me dictation," she said, dragging
out the last word, causing Kyle to cough uncontrollably in his nervousness.

   "I was?  I mean, yes, I was," he stammered.  Heather winked at him
before turning back to Estelle.

   "See?"

   "But...  but you're needed in the phone room!" she said.

   "I'm sorry," Heather apologized.  "He saw me yesterday, and asked me to
come into his office for a little one on one.  He said we should set up
some face time together.  Is that okay?" she asked.

   "I...  I don't know..."

   "It's probably a good idea," offered Kyle, beginning to warm to the
situation.  "I've been thinking that while I'm down here, it would be a
good idea to have someone...  a personal assistant.  Someone to work
underneath me, you know?" he said seriously to a confused Estelle, while
Heather fought back laughter behind the rattled woman.

   "Well, I...  she's supposed to be in the phone room..." she tried again.

   "I'm sure it won't be a problem," Kyle said.  "Why don't you run down to
human resources and see if you can't go about getting her transferred to my
office?"

   "I...  I suppose so," Estelle muttered, turning to leave.

   The office was deathly quiet as she exited the office, Kyle and Heather
both waiting until the door had closed before bursting into laughter.

   "Someone to work under you?" gasped Heather.

   "A little one on one?" laughed Kyle.

   "She's gone, isn't she?" Heather asked.

   "She is.  I'm assuming that was Estelle?"

   "It was indeed.  Now you've met her," laughed Heather.

   "And what a lovely person she seems to be," nodded Kyle quickly, before
turning serious.  "Is this going to get you in trouble?" he asked.  "That
all happened kind of quickly, and I'm not even sure if I did the right
thing."

   "Oh, God yes," Heather answered.  "I've been waiting to get out of the
phone room for months!  I applied to be in the secretarial pool, but
haven't had the opportunity to move out of the phone room, so this is
perfect!"

   "Well, good.  So, you really can take dictation?" Kyle asked.

   "Mmm hmm," she answered coyly before licking her lips suggestively.  "I
can take it, all right."

   "Stop it," Kyle chided her, turning look at the door.  "Someone might
hear you."

   "Sorry," she grinned meekly.  "I'll be good."

   "Good," Kyle nodded.

   "Unless..."

   "Unless what?"

   "Unless you'd like me to be bad," she answered.

   "I'll...  I'll keep that in mind," Kyle said slowly, wondering what he
might be getting himself into.  In the space of two days he had gone from a
certified loner, morbidly brooding over his loss, to trading innuendoes
with a woman he had apparently just hired as his personal assistant.

   What's going on?  he wondered once again.

   *****

   As it turned out, nothing much was going on for the next few weeks. 
Kyle's new office was ready after a week, and he and Heather had the
unenviable task of relocating all his work from the basement up to the
ninth floor.  It took a day of work, but at last Kyle had a place, and with
the help of Heather even felt comfortable in his new job.

   "I couldn't have done this without you," he said sincerely one night. 
"I know this maybe wasn't the escape from the phone room you were
imagining, but I just wanted to say thanks for all your help.  So... 
thanks."

   "You're welcome," Heather answered slowly.  "And don't apologize for
anything...  this was exactly like I'd imagined it would be.  Yes, the work
is hard.  Yes, it can be monotonous, but still...  this is what I signed up
for when I applied.  This beats answering branch office telephone calls any
day of the week!"

   "Well, good.  I'm glad to hear it," Kyle answered.

   "Can I ask you a question?" Heather asked hesitantly.  "I'm sorry if I'm
being nosy, but I just have to know."

   "Go on," Kyle said.  "What's your question?"

   "I was just wondering...  do you like me?" she asked.

   "Heather!  Of course I like you, why would you even wonder?" Kyle
replied.

   "Well...  I was just wondering...  how come you've never asked me out?"

   "What?"

   "You know, like on a date?  Is there something wrong with me?"

   "Oh, Heather...  there's nothing wrong with you!  I just..."

   "What?" she asked insistently.

   I'm still in love with my dead wife!  he wanted to shout.  Instead he
remained silent, the shaking of his head his only movement, refusing to
speak any more.

   "Fine," Heather hissed, grabbing her coat and purse and stomping out of
the office.  "See you tomorrow, sir."

   "Oh shit," Kyle moaned, allowing himself to lean down on his desk, his
head in his arms as he fought back a scream of frustration.  Johanna... 
why can't I just let you go?!?

   *****

   "How's life, young sir?" asked his landlord Matthew that evening as Kyle
trudged passed the apartment complex's offices.

   "Okay, I guess," he shrugged.  "It could be worse."

   "That doesn't sound too good to me," the old man chuckled.  "And I'm
listening to you through a piece of plastic!" he said, pointing as usual to
his hearing aid.  "So what you said must have sounded really bad to a
person who could hear!"

   "It's fine," said Kyle, grinning at the man in spite of himself.  "I
just...  I had a rough time at work."

   "Woman problems, eh?" said the old man sagely, nodding his head in
understanding.  "Is it about your wife?"

   Kyle spun his head around to look at the old man, his eyes open wide in
surprise.  "My wife?" he stammered.  "How...  how did you know?"

   "It's my ears that are bad.  My eyes are still pretty good," the man
cackled.  "And this is what I see...  I see you, a young feller, all on his
own in a dingy little apartment in my building.  You don't have any kids
running around or a woman waiting for you, but you have a ring on your
finger like maybe you used to."

   Kyle looked down guiltily at his left hand.  Indeed, he was still
wearing his wedding ring, although it had been mentioned to him by more
than one friend that the time had probably come to take it off, but Kyle
couldn't stand the thought.

   "I couldn't," he said.  "I couldn't stand to get rid of it."

   "Did she leave you?" the man asked, squinting his eyes to look at Kyle
more closely when Kyle shook his head.  "Nah...  you don't seem like the
type of guy a woman leaves."

   "She...  she passed away," Kyle finally managed to say quietly.

   "Well, if I didn't just step all over your emotions," Matthew said.  "I
do apologize.  You want to talk about it?" he asked.  "It might do you some
good."

   "I...  I don't know if I can."

   "It'll be all right," the old man said.  "Why don't you start by telling
me about her.  What was her name?"

   "Johanna," Kyle answered.

   "Pretty name.  How'd you two meet?"

   "We...  I don't know...  I always just knew her."

   "High school sweetheart?" the man laughed.  "Those are nice.  I married
my sweetheart too.  Why don't you tell me about her."

   So Kyle did, starting slowly at first but eventually, to his surprise
beginning to tell stories and explain feelings he's kept bottled up inside
for a long time.  At last he got to the most painful story, the tale of a
rainy November day, a long night of work and a driver who never should have
been allowed to get behind the wheel of his pickup truck.

   "Ah shit...  how long ago did it happen?" the old man asked.

   "About...  she died about three years ago," Kyle said.

   "Hmm...  and yet you're still wearing the ring, are you?" Matthew asked.

   Kyle looked down in surprise at his hand.  He didn't wear the ring all
the time, in fact he had never worn it to work, but sometimes he found
himself slipping it on his finger when he was around the house.

   "Yes," whispered Kyle as he took off the ring and put it in his pocket.
"I'm sorry."

   "Sorry my ass!" blurted the old man.  "Don't you ever be sorry for
loving someone so much, you hear me?"

   "Sorry," Kyle apologized again, causing the old man to smile.  Kyle
looked up in surprise, a hurt expression on his face, quickly turning to
anger as the old man began to laugh.

   "I'm sorry," he said finally, waving his hands in the air by way of
apology.  "I am not mocking you...  I just...  never mind.  I'm sorry I
laughed, but she sounds like a lovely girl, and you should consider
yourself lucky to have known her, to have loved her."

   "I do," Kyle said, nodding vigorously.  "I am lucky."

   "And you should consider yourself a fool too," the man continued.

   "What?"

   "A damn fool, in fact.  What do you think Johanna would want for you?"
the old man asked.

   "To be happy," Kyle answered.

   "And are you?  Are you happy?"

   "I...  I think so."

   "Bull shit," the man spat out.  "I look at you and you're not happy. 
You mope around all day when you're not working, and you sit in front of
the television at night.  You don't go out, you don't meet people, you
just...  sit around like a lump.  Is that what your wife would want?  Is
that how you'd want her to see you?"

   "No," answered Kyle sullenly.  "I suppose not."

   "Damn right, she wouldn't.  One thing I don't understand though...  for
a spell, a couple weeks ago, you looked downright chipper when you came
home from work...  don't think I didn't hear you whistling on the stairs as
you walked past my rooms.  What was that all about?"

   "That was Heather," Kyle sighed wistfully.

   "Heather, eh?" Matthew asked, eying Kyle carefully.  "I thought as
much," he claimed.

   "You did?" Kyle asked in disbelief.

   "Yup.  Thought you seemed like a fellow who might be in love.  Then
today you're a basket case.  What happened?"

   "We...  I acted like...  what did you say?  Like a damn fool at work."

   "Because of Heather?"

   "Yes."

   "What happened?"

   "I think...  I know she likes me, but I pushed her away."

   "Because of your wife?" asked Matthew gently.

   "Yes," Kyle practically sobbed.  "What's wrong with me?" he pleaded,
looking to the elderly man for guidance.  "What can I do?" The grizzled old
landlord looked at him intently for a moment before answering.

   "Tell her," he said.  "Tell her what happened.  It'll be good for you,
and she'll understand."

   Kyle sighed heavily.

   "I'll do that," he said.  "I will."

   "Good," Matthew said.  "Now help me up," he laughed, reaching out his
hand and Kyle helped pull the old man up from the stairs.

   "You know, for an old single guy, you're pretty smart," Kyle admitted
grudgingly.

   "Don't be so sure of that," Matthew laughed, reaching into his pocket.
He held out his open hand revealing a thin band of gold.  "It took me a
long time to get over Helen," he said softly.  "It took a long damn time."

   *****

   "You're going to tell her," Kyle said quietly to himself the next
morning as he rode the elevator up to the ninth floor.  "You're going to
walk into your office and tell her everything."

   To his surprise however, when Kyle opened his office door it wasn't
Heather, but another secretary who looked up at him expectantly.

   "I'm sorry, sir," she apologized.  "I'm not quite up to speed on your
projects.  I only found out this morning that I would be working for you."

   "Where's Heather?" he asked.

   "Who?"

   "Heather...  my old assistant.  What happened to her?"

   "I...  I don't know.  I could find out," she offered.

   "Do that," Kyle said, assuming he knew what had happened, but he had to
be sure.  I scared her off, he thought angrily.  She basically threw
herself at me and I pushed her away.  What kind of idiot am I?

   His new secretary hurriedly exited the office and Kyle was once again
alone.  For most of the day he worked on a new ad campaign for a new brand
of auto insurance his company was implementing, but he soon tired of it,
thankful for the interruption of a soft knocking on the door as five
o'clock approached.

   "Come in," he said quietly.  His heart began to beat faster in
anticipation as the door opened.  What if it's Heather?  he thought.  What
can I possibly say to her to explain what happened?  he asked himself,
forgetting momentarily about his early morning plans.  What could I say
that would make her explain?

   Unfortunately it wasn't Heather, but his temporary secretary who poked
her head through the door.

   "Sir?" she asked quietly, seeing his face darken slightly when he saw
her.  "Is everything okay?"

   "Yes, yes...  come in," he said, waving her into the office.  "What's
up?"

   "I...  I was wondering if you needed anything else," she said
hesitantly.

   "No, I'm fine," he answered.  "You can go ahead and take off if you'd
like.  I'm just finishing up going over some art proposals."

   "Thank you.  Have a good night sir," she said, starting as she seemed to
remember something.  "Oh!  I found out the information you wanted."

   "What was that?" he asked in confusion.

   "Your former secretary," she said.  "She was transferred back to the
phone room.  What happened?" she asked in concern.  "Is that normal?  Was
she doing a bad job?"

   "No, she was doing great," Kyle shrugged.  "I don't really know, to be
honest.  It was a surprise to me too.  Thanks, that was great work," he
said.  "Have a good night."

   "You too, sir."

   *****

   Am I that fucking terrible?  Kyle wondered over his fifth drink of the
night.  Am I so bad as that?  She can't even stand to work with me?  What a
loser I am.

   "Bartender, give me another double!" he shouted to the bartender, who
looked down the bar at Kyle, who was slumped over on his stool.  The
bartender shook his head, but poured another scotch, carrying it down to
Kyle who held out his hand.

   "This is the last one, buddy," he said quietly, watching sadly as Kyle
downed the amber liquid in three large swallows.

   "Thanks a million, buddy," Kyle slurred as he stood unsteadily.  He
pulled a few bills out of his pocket, throwing them on the bar as he
attempted to put on his coat.  He began weaving his way toward the door,
struggling to remove his car keys from his pocket.

   "Not tonight," the bartender said, suddenly standing between Kyle and
the door.  "I can't let you out of here like that."

   "Fuck off," Kyle said loudly.  "I'm driving home."

   "Can't let you," the bartender shrugged, nodding at someone.  Kyle
turned to see who was behind him, surprised as the bartender took the
opportunity to snatch the keys from his hand.

   "Hey!  What're you doing?" Kyle asked, fighting weakly as the bar's
bouncer grabbed him by the armpits, who began dragging him back toward the
bar.

   "We're going to get some coffee into you and call a cab," the bouncer
explained.  "You can't watch, much less drive.  No one dies tonight because
of you, got it?"

   At this Kyle's demeanor softened and he felt his brain become clearer,
at least momentarily.  No one dies tonight, he thought.  My God!  Someone's
wife could have died because of me.

   Kyle thankfully accepted the mug of coffee he was handed and took a
large sip, cringing as the hot, bitter brew burned the inside of his mouth.

   "Couldn't you at least get me some coffee with cream or sugar in it?" he
asked loudly, once again the drunk, angered by any apparent slight.

   "Sure thing buddy," the bartender said once more.  "Hang on though, the
cab's on its way."

   "Thanks," Kyle mumbled as he poured spoonful after spoonful of sugar
into his drink, watching as the crystals dissolved into the dark liquid. 
He drank the rest of the coffee without incident and when the cab arrived
he allowed himself to be led outside, with the promise that he would return
the next day to retrieve his car.

   *****

   Never again, swore Kyle the next morning as he walked into work.  That's
the last time I drink that much, period.

   Deciding on a change, Kyle took the stairs up to his office.  Panting
slightly when he reached the ninth floor, Kyle paused a moment to catch his
breath before heading down the hall.

   "Morning," he said to his secretary, who was seemingly more acclimated
to her new surroundings on this, her second day.

   "Morning," she chirped.  "You have two appointments this morning, should
I show the first in?" she asked professionally.

   "Yes, do that," he said.

   Business went by quicker than he would have imagined possible, but Kyle
was still surprised when he glanced at his desk clock and saw that the day
was nearly finished.

   God, I need to unwind, he thought to himself as he headed through the
main doors and out into the parking lot, but quickly shook off the idea. 
Not after last night, he admonished himself.  He had been momentarily
confused as to the whereabouts of his car, but when he arrived at the bar
to reclaim his keys he had been given a full account of the previous
evening.

   Best just to go home, he thought.  Finish unpacking and get to bed
early.

   Kyle had nearly reached his car when he heard a voice calling to him.

   "Kyle!  Wait a second!" the voice said, and Kyle groaned, recognizing
Heather's voice.

   "Hi," he said once she had caught up.  "What's up?" he asked nervously.

   "I found out about you," she said quietly.

   "What do you mean?"

   "I heard you were asking about me yesterday."

   "Yeah, today too, but Estelle said you weren't in.  What happened?"

   "I...  I wanted to apologize," Heather answered.

   "What for?" Kyle asked incredulously.  "I'm the insensitive louse here!
I'm the one who's sorry.  You kind of put yourself out on a limb for me,
and I just...  I let you dangle there.  I'm the one who should be
apologizing."

   "True," she grinned, in spite of herself.  "But still, I shouldn't have
just run off like that."

   "No, you shouldn't have, but I understand."

   "So...  what now?" she asked.

   "Well...  let me make it up to you," Kyle said.

   "You wanna buy a girl a drink?" Heather said, leaning into Kyle and
letting him feel the soft swell of her breasts as she pressed herself
against him.

   "I don't think so," Kyle answered, his attention split between the feel
of her against his arm and holding up his end of the conversation.  "I'm
kind of afraid of me and booze at the moment.  How about I cook you
dinner?" he asked.  Heather looked at him for a long while, the distrust
evident in her face.

   "You sure?" she asked.

   "What?  You don't think I can cook?"

   "Well, it's been my experience with single guys..."

   "Okay," he laughed.  "Fair enough.  How about I take you out somewhere?"

   "It's a plan," she agreed, taking his arm.  "How do I look?"

   "Good enough to eat," Kyle grinned, leering hungrily at her.

   "Oh no!" she cried in mock horror as he burst into laughter.  "Not
that!"

   "Okay," he agreed, leading the two of them to his car.

   "Well..." she said as she paused at the door.  "Maybe after dinner."

   *****

   "That was great!" Heather enthused as the two left the restaurant.  "I
don't think I've ever been so stuffed in my whole life!"

   "It was good," admitted Kyle.  "I wasn't sure how good barbecue could be
up here, not after having lived in Kansas City my whole life, but I have to
say, it was pretty good."

   "Just pretty good?" she asked in amazement.  "That was the best I've
ever eaten!"

   "Okay," Kyle said in surrender.  "It was better than pretty good, but I
still say you should hold off awarding any prizes until you've had some
real K.C.  Masterpiece barbecue.  Then you'll see what I'm talking about."

   "Fine," Heather groused good-naturedly.  "Ruin it by telling me I'm
wrong!"

   "I apologize," Kyle said happily, leaning over to kiss Heather's offered
cheek.

   "Good boy," she said.  "You'll make someone a fine husband yet."

   Kyle stiffened momentarily at her words but managed to calm himself by
the time the two reached the car.  She doesn't know, he told himself.  It
was an innocent comment, and I have to get over it.

   Inside the car Heather looked at him strangely before asking, "Where
now?"

   "Isn't it kind of late?" Kyle asked.

   "Silly, we don't have work tomorrow!  We can stay out as late as we
want," Heather said.

   "Well then...  your place or mine?" Kyle joked, wagging his eyebrows at
her.  To his surprise Heather seemed to consider her options before
responding.

   "Your place," she answered with finality.  "My roommate's probably
sleeping by now, so definitely your place."

   Go with it, Kyle told himself.  Don't think.  Enjoy.  Go with it.

   "My place it is," he said after a moment's hesitation.

   "It's nice," Heather said when Kyle let her in.  He was happy to see
that he had indeed done a respectable job of cleaning the place earlier in
the week, not that he'd been planning on visitors.

   "Thanks," he said, taking her coat and hanging it in the closet.  "I
know it's not that much, but I was in a hurry to find a place.  The job
offer kind of caught me off guard and I rushed a lot of things in the
move."

   "I like it," Heather said.  She waited for Kyle to sit on the couch
before she said, pressing against him as she slid down next to him. 
"Oops," she said, making no attempt to move away.

   "I had a really good time tonight," Kyle said, looking into her eyes,
searching for a sign that his advances were wanted.

   "It isn't over already, is it?" Heather asked softly, her eyes closing
slightly.  When her lips began to part, Kyle knew his moment had come and
he leaned down, pressing his mouth against Heather's soft lips.  As the two
began to kiss in earnest, Kyle felt his heart pounding in his chest.  It
had been years since he had kissed someone other than Johanna, and to his
surprise he found he was nervous.

   Finally the two broke apart and Kyle could see Heather was panting from
the kiss.

   "Wow," he said, smiling as Heather nodded in agreement.

   "Wow is right." She appeared ready to say more, but Kyle leaned in once
again and any words she might have said were lost in a sigh of pleasure as
their lips met again.

   Heather's mouth opened first, her tongue darting out to flick
insistently against Kyle's lips.  He let her tongue play over his lower lip
for a moment before opening to give her entrance.  His own tongue soon
joined in and the two moaned into each other's mouth, both feeling the same
rush of excitement.

   Suddenly Heather broke away, much to Kyle's surprise.  His
disappointment was short-lived however, as he watched Heather as she slowly
began to unbutton her blouse.  She pulled the material off her shoulders as
she revealed her pale skin beneath.

   "You're going to think I'm such a hussy," she grinned in embarrassment.
"But I don't care.  I've wanted you ever since the day we bumped into each
other downstairs."

   "I don't mind," Kyle answered, drinking in the sight of her smooth
flesh. He reached out a hand, playing his fingers over and between the
swells of her firm breasts, encased now only in the soft satin of her bra.
Even through the material Kyle could see and feel the bumps of her nipples,
now more pronounced than before as his thumbs teased and rubbed at the
sensitive flesh.

   "Oh God, keep doing that," Heather hissed as she swung her hips around,
tugging the skirt up around her waist as she straddled Kyle's legs.  "Touch
me like that!"

   Kyle's hands were busy as he fondled her smooth curves, occasionally
slipping his hands along her sides, feeling the creamy smooth skin of her
hips as they squeezed gently against his legs.

   Heather reached behind her and Kyle watched as the bra loosened and with
a shrug of Heather's shoulders slipped down, leaving her breasts, pale and
round and within easy reach of his hands.

   Hesitantly he brought them up and cupped her firm flesh the diamond hard
nipples digging into his palms.  Heather moaned into his neck as she
pressed herself more firmly into his hands and Kyle could feel the heat of
her as Heather's crotch ground against his own.  Kyle suddenly realized
that, unbeknownst to him, his penis had swelled with arousal and by
Heather's actions he knew that she felt it to.

   "I want to see it," Heather whispered hotly into his ear as her hands
reached down between their bodies to rub against the bulge now protruding
from his slacks.  "I want to see your cock."

   Suddenly her hands were on his zipper and Heather slowly slid the
mechanism down, the rasp of metal on metal loud in the quiet apartment, the
only other noise the labored sound of their breathing.  As soon as the
zipper was all the way down Heather darted a hand inside the opening and
sighed with approval as her fingers wrapped around his hard shaft.

   "No underwear?" she giggled.  "How naughty.  But I like it, I really
like it," she moaned as she began stroking his erection, drawing a groan of
pleasure from Kyle's mouth.

   His own hands were not idle however.  As Heather tended to his cock,
Kyle reached down to cup the hot flesh of her pussy, covered in the same
silky smooth material as made up her bra.  Already sticky with her arousal,
the gusset of the panties seemed almost to cling to the fat lips of
Heather's labia as Kyle ran his finger up and down her damp furrow.

   "So hot," he moaned as he slipped a finger along the elastic band of her
panties.  He could feel the moist skin of her flesh, covered in a fine mat
of pubic hair, also damp with arousal.  As Kyle fought to get more of his
hand behind the flimsy garment, Heather raised up on her hips, releasing
the hard cock from her grip and slid the panties down her hips, twisting
and turning in Kyle's lap until at last she was naked from the waist down.

   "Touch me more," she panted hotly, her hands once again reaching for the
tip of his prick, the slit already dripping with his arousal.  Heather
spread the sticky juices over the head of his penis as Kyle groaned at the
sensation.  Before he could even recognize what was happening a spray of
hot semen shot out the head of his cock as Kyle groaned as his orgasm
overtook him.

   "Shit," he panted.  "Shit shit shit!  I'm sorry about that," he
apologized as Heather continued to stroke his softening prick in her hands.

   "Don't be sorry," she grinned.  "That was kind of hot how quickly I got
you off.  Do me?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyes at him.

   "Gladly," he growled, grabbing Heather by the hips and swinging her
around.  He ended up sitting on the floor between her widespread legs, the
fat lips of her pussy spread out in invitation to him.

   "God, yes...  lick me!" Heather screamed as Kyle bent down, attaching
his mouth to her pussy, tonguing at the hot opening.  He pressed inside her
flesh as much as he could before running his tongue up and down her wet
slit, occasionally thrusting into her opening with a finger, slick from
being dragged through her juices.

   "You're so wet," he marveled as he paused.  Above him Heather was lost
in a sea of sensations, her hands clawing at the cushions on the couch, her
head thrown back in pleasure.  Kyle reached up a hand to flick at her
turgid nipples and was rewarded with a tiny squeal of pleasure.

   Quickly he returned to the task at hand and attacked her sex with his
lips, tongue and fingers, teasing her erect clit out from behind its
sheath. As he felt Heather's legs and pelvis begin to tremble with the
onset of her climax, Kyle began thrusting one, then two fingers up her
slick tunnel, finally attaching his lips around her clit while his tongue
thrashed wildly against the hard bundle of nerves.

   "Oh God oh God oh God oh God!" she panted over and over, and Kyle felt a
rush of juices suddenly coat his lips and tongue.  Heather squealed as Kyle
kept the pressure up, riding through another orgasm until at last she
collapsed back to the couch, panting from the exertion.

   "Are you okay?" Kyle asked in concern as Heather seemed almost to black
out momentarily.

   "Okay?" she asked, her eyelids fluttering open in wonder.  "I'm more
than okay, that was fantastic!  What about you?" she asked, her gaze
dropping to his crotch, where Kyle was again surprised to see a full
fledged erection poking out from between his thighs.

   "I'm fine," he said.  "I already came once."

   "Fuck that," Heather groaned, pushing back on Kyle's chest until he was
lying on his back, his prick waving proudly in the air.  Heather reached
down, quickly undoing the clasp of his slacks before sliding them down and
off his legs.

   "Are you protected?" Kyle barely had time to ask, when he realized
Heather's intentions.  She nodded quickly, all the while swabbing the head
of Kyle's prick through the still wet lips of her pussy, coating his cock
with her juices.  When she was satisfied they were well lubricated, she
positioned her lips over his erection and dropped down with a grunt.

   "Oh God!" she cried out again as he spread and filled her hot tunnel. 
"So good," she moaned, beginning a steady rocking motion against his
thighs. Kyle reached down, feeling her pussy lips, now stretched tightly
where his cock penetrated her body.  He spread her juices along his shaft,
further coating his prick to allow for more pleasure.

   "You're so tight," he moaned in wonder, speeding his thrusting, knowing
he would again not last long, even with his recent orgasm.

   The moment seemed to be right however, as earlier than he would have
expected he felt Heather began to shudder once more in her climax.  Her
legs clamped down around his hips and it was all Kyle could do to thrust up
against her in tiny lunges until the pressure of her pussy and his own
excitement overtook him.

   "I can feel you shooting in me," Heather panted as spurt after spurt of
his seed shot down the sticky folds of her pussy.

   "Oh God!" Kyle shouted, grabbing onto Heather's hips for support as his
body spasmed in release.

   Eventually the position and the floor became too uncomfortable and
though he was hardly aware of the change, Kyle and Heather eventually moved
into his bedroom.

   "Are you sure you don't think I'm some kind of slut?" Heather asked
sleepily, her arms and legs intertwined with his.

   "Positive," Kyle murmured, aware that he could feel her heart beating
against his chest.  Soon he was almost hypnotized by its steady rhythm, her
heart beating slower and slower until at last it matched his own, and
finally he fell asleep.

   *****

   "Wake up, Kyle.  Wake up," Kyle heard from the dark depths of his sleep.
He blinked his eyes slowly, surprised to find not the bright rays of early
morning sunlight he had expected but instead a still-dark room.

   "What time is it?" he asked, his voice still rough with sleep.

   "It's three in the morning.  We need to talk," Heather said, her
distress evident.  What's she upset about though?  Kyle wondered.

   "Okay."

   "Who's Johanna?" Heather asked, and Kyle could hear that her voice was
unsteady, close to breaking with emotion.

   "What?" Kyle asked dumbly.  "How did you...?"

   "I didn't mean to," Heather said softly, shaking her head.  "I...  I
couldn't sleep, so was cleaning up, straightening our clothes.  I was
folding your slacks over the back of the chair and this fell out," she
said, holding open her hand.  Kyle closed his eyes, knowing without really
looking that she was holding his wedding ring.

   "It's not...  it's not what you think," he said.

   "What?  This isn't a wedding ring?  This picture isn't your wife?"
Heather asked, almost in hysterics at this point.  "I thought you liked
me!" she spat.  "I thought...  where is she?  Still back at home, waiting
for you to call and tell her the house is ready?"

   "She's never coming," Kyle said quietly as tears began welling up in his
eyes.  "Never."

   "What do you mean?" Heather asked hesitantly, watching quietly as a tear
slid down his cheek.

   "She's...  she's gone.  Three years ago."

   "Oh my God," whispered Heather, quickly putting her arms around his
shoulders as sobs wracked his body.  "I'm sorry...  I didn't know.  I
just...  I saw the ring, and the picture..."

   "It's okay," Kyle said.  "It's okay.  You need to know.  I need...  I
need to let go."

   "Shh...  don't talk.  Let me hold you," she said, leaning back on the
bed and pulling him close.  "It'll be okay," she whispered.  "Everything
will be okay."

   "I'm sorry," Kyle finally said when the tears had dried up.  He smiled
up at Heather, who was still hovering over him, her face filled with
concern.  Her finger played around his face, smoothing the skin wherever it
touched, calming and relaxing Kyle, who despite his best efforts fell
quickly asleep.

   As he slept, Kyle dreamed he was home in Kansas City.  He was sitting at
the kitchen table, in the home he had shared with Johanna during their
short time together.  He sat there, a mug of coffee at his right hand as he
read the morning paper.

   "Morning," Johanna said happily as she seemed to float into the kitchen.
Kyle looked up and smiled at his wife, knowing this was a dream, aware that
none of this was real.

   "You're dead," he said simply.

   "I know," she answered, sitting down at the table beside her husband.

   "I slept with her, with Heather...  a woman from work," he said.  "I'm
sorry."

   "Don't be," laughed Johanna as she spread a thin layer of strawberry
jelly over a piece of toast.  "I like her," she said before taking a bite.
"She seems nice."

   "She's very nice," Kyle said in confusion, "but...  aren't you angry?"

   "Angry?  Why would I be angry?  I'm gone.  You need to move on, you
know. I've been worried about you.  This is good."

   "Is it?" Kyle asked, looking into her eyes for the approval he so
desperately needed.

   "It is," she smiled, leaning close to brush her lips against his.  Kyle
closed his eyes but felt nothing, and when he opened them she was gone.

   To his surprise, Kyle found that he wasn't upset by this.  She said it
was okay, he thought happily.  It's okay...  I think I'm ready to move on.
Finally.

   Heather watched, unable to sleep as Kyle slumbered beside her on the
bed. Only when a smile played across his silent features was she able to
relax herself.

   "It will be okay," she whispered as she dozed off beside him, snuggled
close against Kyle's side.  Even in his sleep he felt her presence and
relaxed his arm to allow her closer.  "Everything will be okay."
   The End