 
The Fifty List

Darlene Hesley

DISCLAIMER

_The Fifty List is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are products of the author's over-active imagination._

The X-Files and the characters Mulder and Scully are the wonderful creations and property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and FOX Broadcasting. I just like to play with my favourite FBI agents from time to time. No infringement is intended.

Smashwords License Statement   
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Author's note:

Manitoulin Island is a marvellous spot for a tranquil holiday.

Published by Darlene Hesley at Smashwords

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9781301960842

DEDICATION

For my Manitoulin Man

Eternal love from your Manitoulin Woman

BOOKS BY DARLENE HESLEY

The Fifty List series:

The Fifty List (Book 1)

The Other Side of Fifty (Book 2)

Fifty More (Book 3 **)**

The Innocent Flame of Seduction – A Tale of Love and Loyalty in Medieval Ireland

www.darlenehesley.com

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I owe great thanks to all those who assisted me in the production of The Fifty List.

Your help and support was invaluable.

Bruce, Crystal, Elaine, Heather, Kristin,

Lee, Mark, Nathan, Pat, Vicki

And last, but certainly not least...

Mulder and Scully

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Books by Darlene Hesley

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty-one

Chapter twenty-two

Chapter twenty-three

Chapter twenty-four

Chapter twenty-five

Chapter twenty six

Chapter twenty-seven

Chapter twenty-eight

Chapter twenty-nine

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty-one

Read the Sequel

About the Author

#  Chapter one

"I'll always be younger than you...just remember that," she typed.

"Thanks for reminding me," her friend replied seconds later. Pam laughed at the emoticon with the tongue sticking out.

It had become a Saturday night ritual for them to check Facebook and see if the other one was online for a girl-to-girl chat. Most often, Pam would have an enormous glass of red wine not far from her computer mouse, while Hannah would never be without her rice chips and hummus dip. Pam had checked twice earlier but didn't see Hannah on chat, so she went back to writing yet another steamy chapter of her latest X-Files fanfiction. Mulder had Scully pinned up against the wall in their basement office and things were about to get hot and juicy.

It was Hockey Night in Canada and Pam's husband was at the other end of the rec room, engrossed in witnessing the Leafs heading into their fourth straight loss. He was quietly relaxing with a can of Pilsner Urquell balanced on his knee. Pam was happy he wasn't one of those guys who yelled at the TV screen while watching sports. She heard him let out a spontaneous whoop every now and then when the Leafs scored. Of course, it was the Leafs, so the whoops were – thankfully – few and far between.

She glanced at the TV screen...4-2 in favour of the other guys. Dave would either be in the mood for nothing later on, or he'd want some _consolation_. Pam grinned inwardly at the thought and turned her attention back to the computer.

Hannah had typed a message while Pam had been contemplating Canadians' baffling attraction to hockey.

"C'mon, you know I don't believe in stuff like chronological age. It doesn't mean anything. There are some cultures that don't even believe in the passage of time. Besides, I'm pretty sure there has been an error."

The message stopped there. Pam decided to wait her out for a moment, but the chat box remained silent. _What the hell does she mean by that?_ Hannah could be cryptic – and they enjoyed playing little mind games with each other on chat. Pam let another full minute pass – an absolute eternity for the two of them not to respond to each other.

Finally, she typed a full colon and a number 3 to create her signature mustachioed emoticon and typed, "ERROR??????" Hannah's response was immediate. She must have already typed something and had her finger hovering over the 'enter' key.

"Yes, an error. There must have been an error somewhere along the way. Someone obviously miscalculated by 10 or 20 years. A mathematical error must have occurred. They happen all the time, you know. There's simply no way I could possibly be 50!"

Hannah had ended her message with an emoticon expressing alarm, its mouth gaping wide in a perfect circle. Pam barely skipped a beat as her fingers flew across the keyboard again.

"Hmmmm.....yes, my friend, mathematical errors are indeed common. But as you already hit the big five-oh three months ago, I think it is too far late to check the accounting. I, on the other hand, have almost five months to correct any bookkeeping errors."

Pam and Hannah bantered back and forth for another hour, lobbing humorous insults, bitching about work, discussing recent books they'd read and making suggestive comments about each other's husbands.

A few years ago, Pam couldn't have imagined having a conversation like this on a computer, but Hannah was enthusiastic about the technology and encouraged her to try it. Pam had since come to appreciate the rhythm of the written tête-à-tête and the fact that she had time to think about what she would say without the perception of Hannah staring directly into her soul – as she did when they were face-to-face. She had a perfect image in her head of Hannah sitting in her house in London in her customary peasant costumes, waist-length wild blond hair pulled back into braids with colourful ribbons. Hannah, she thought, was the very epitome of the word "quirky."

Pam's butt was getting sore from sitting in the chair so long and she made up an excuse to exit chat. She really did love Hannah, but her friend was intense, even on a long-distance computer conversation. She also wasn't used to being so adored. Hannah was very open about her feelings and often expressed her affection for her in their chats. It made Pam feel good, but it also made her uncomfortable. There was only so much 'Hannah' she could handle.

"I have three art classes to teach tomorrow, so I guess I'd better get some shut-eye too. That is, if Raj lets me – heehee!" Hannah had met Raj not too long after her marriage broke up five years ago. She refused to get married again but they lived together and she was deeply in love with him. Her opinion was that marriage was a one-time commitment and anything else was "a gift the universe delivers to you." Regardless, she always referred to Raj as "my husband."

"Have a good night. Love you, babe. Kisses," Hannah signed off.

Pam looked at that last line and sighed. "I really enjoyed our talk tonight. Take care." Reluctantly, she added, "Kisses," before exiting.

Pam backed her chair away from the computer, stretched and glanced at the TV. Don Cherry was shouting something about body armour on hockey players. His partner, Ron McLean, was scowling. After more than 40 years of witnessing other people watch hockey, Pam still had no clue about the rules and no desire to learn them. That Cherry guy, though, he was a character. He always seemed to be screaming about something and letting his mouth get him in trouble. Dave never missed watching his Saturday night rant.

Pam walked over behind Dave's chair. She placed her hands on his shoulders, nuzzled her nose into his curly, reddish-blond hair and kissed the bald spot on the top of his head. Dave reached up with his left hand and absently stroked her fingers. He let that hand drop to his knee and lifted his tall beer can with the other, taking a long swig. Pam patted his shoulders, left the rec room and headed upstairs.

Pam puttered around in the kitchen for a while, unloading the dishwasher and making a shopping list for Sunday. She looked in the fridge and decided to buy plenty of groceries to keep the kids from driving her crazy all week. Since they'd become teenagers, Samantha and Dylan had developed a keen sense of what they did and did not like. The problem was, they were so different. Dylan was an impeccably healthy eater, while Samantha craved carbs and sweets. They had both started out so alike. Pam often wondered how they could be so different now.

She worried what it would be like for them to be off on their own. Samantha was in Grade 12 and the school year was soon drawing to a close. She'd applied to five universities and was accepted to every last one. Pam had to admit her daughter was one of the brightest young women she had ever met. _Must be all those carbs._ Pam added "potatoes and pasta" to her shopping list.

Despite her carb cravings, Samantha was tall and willowy. She had strong, bold features and Dave's ice-blue eyes and curly hair – although hers was blonder than his. Dylan, on the other hand, had his father's tall, burly frame, but his mother's straight dark hair and dark eyes. Her children couldn't have looked much different.

The kids were both off with friends tonight, mooching food from other moms, but they'd expect the fridge to be full tomorrow. She'd get what she could in town. The shopping was a bit limited in Stouffville, so she'd have to get whatever else she needed in the city during the work week. Their town was just a 45-minute drive from the office, but sometimes it felt like a world away. Actually, that was the primary reason why they had chosen to buy outside of the city – that and the outrageous real estate prices in Toronto. They had a split level house with a nice backyard. It probably would have cost double in the city. Pam also liked to dabble in gardening, and the city lots were so tiny, it was hardly like having a backyard at all.

Samantha and Dylan were only one grade apart in school. Dylan had been something of an "ooops" baby, as Pam had become pregnant while still breastfeeding Samantha. She thought breastfeeding was an effective form of contraception – but was proven wrong. Dylan was born late in the year and was always one of the youngest kids in his class. _Maybe that's what makes him so different_.

Dylan had always been challenging. He too was a very bright child, but had developed a confrontational streak at the age of two. He was 17 and that streak hadn't let up yet. Everything was a battle. He often trashed his room, but since he became a teenager, Pam often didn't know whether the mess was from a thorough trashing, or just everyday slothdom.

His moods swung from dark and venomous to overly energetic and cheerful. He never argued with his father, but seemed to delight in tormenting his mother. He acted a bit immature for his age and was often loud and unreasonable. Pam found his ever-changing moods exasperating. _I never know from day to day which way things are going to go with him_. Pam added "mixed salad greens" to her shopping list for her health-conscious son _._

Pam had long suspected Dylan was bi-polar. She had discussed it many times with Dave, but he would never agree to have Dylan tested. Dave had always been the type of person who walked through life with 'rose-coloured glasses.' If a subject was negative or even remotely unpleasant, he would rather pretend it didn't exist than discuss it. He preferred to stay on an extremely even keel emotionally and never seemed to get either too thrilled or too worried about anything. Pam found that frustrating. She also thought it completely ironic that Dave sold life insurance for a living. He could acknowledge that death happened, but he couldn't deal with the thought that anything distressing or painful could happen in the period _between_ birth and death.

Pam tucked her grocery list into the notepad holder hanging beside the fridge. It had gotten quiet downstairs. That meant the hockey game was over. Dave trudged upstairs, empty beer can in hand. He came into the kitchen and tossed it into the recycling bin.

"So, what happened with your team tonight?"

Dave shrugged. "They lost in a shoot-out."

Pam had a vague idea what a shoot-out was. "Does that mean they still get a point?"

Dave smiled and came over to where she was standing, wrapping his arms around her. "You're learning. That's my girl," he said, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"That's because I have such a good teacher. I've learned a lot of things over the past 21 years, wouldn't you say?"

Dave cocked his head to one side and wiggled his eyebrows. "Care to show me what you've learned, hon?"

"Only if you're good." Pam shoved him away. "See you in a few minutes."

Dave smiled, nodded and headed to the bedroom. At least there was one thing that Dave got excited about – sex. Pam completed tidying the kitchen before going to the bathroom. She studied her face in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She had wrinkles around her dark brown eyes, but her skin was healthy looking with rosy undertones. Pam figured her full cheeks were probably saving her from too many wrinkles. She'd noticed that really skinny women had far more wrinkles than her. She leaned closer to the mirror and scanned her face. _Is this what a 50-year-old broad looks like?_

Dave had turned 50 three years ago, and he didn't see what all the fuss was about. Pam didn't really mind turning 50, but she refused to get her hair cut short or let it go grey like a lot of other women she knew who had hit that particular milestone. Her dark brown hair (which her stylist called 'burnt nutmeg') was cut in long, shaggy layers that reached just past her shoulders. After she finished with her teeth, she took a brush and swept her hair back. It was parted on the side and had a tendency to fall over one eye, but she kind of liked that. Pam loved classic movies and thought the drooping hair made her look a bit like Veronica Lake, an actress and pin-up girl from the 1940s.

Dave was already in bed by the time Pam came into their room. He was wearing the bright yellow Homer Simpson boxer shorts she had given him for a giggle last Christmas. She headed for the closet, disrobing slowly and throwing everything into the laundry basket. She was aware Dave was watching – but pretending not to.

"Don't cover up," she heard from behind her.

She turned her head. "What?"

"Skip the nightshirt, okay?" Dave was ogling her. "You don't need to cover up. I'll keep you warm," he said, patting the bed beside him. He was horny and in a playful mood – after all – the Leafs had scored a point.

Pam closed the closet door, locked the door to their bedroom and walked to the bed naked. She crawled onto it extremely slowly and stopped on all fours in front of her husband, leering down at him. She fixed her eyes on his Homer shorts and saw the immediate effect she was having on him. Pam loved that she could still influence him this way. As for her, sex was better the past few years than it had ever been. She delighted in the way her body was so quick to respond and chalked it up to raging mid-life hormones.

Dave felt the stirring in his shorts, which quickly morphed to a throbbing as Pam leaned down and pushed her lips onto his. Feeling her mouth open slightly, Dave swept his tongue across her lower lip. Reaching up, he felt her body shiver. Dave had always loved the way his wife shivered when he kissed her. It made kissing something special – almost worth missing a hockey game for.

Her tongue travelled across his lips, the tip of it lapping at the edges of his mouth, making him want to devour her. Dave marveled that after 21 years of marriage, she still knew how to ignite him.

Dave made his way to Pam's ear again and whispered, "Are you toying with me, or do you really mean this?" He received the answer he was hoping for when Pam swiftly crawled on top. She rubbed her torso across him lightly, tickling herself with his soft, full, fuzzy belly. Dave's head started spinning as Pam pressed herself into his groin.

"Hey, take it easy," he said. "I'm not 15 anymore." They both snickered. Pam dismounted her husband and rolled onto her side, facing him and pushing firmly into him. Dave pushed a hand in between them and caressed her breasts, feeling her grow hard beneath his fingertips.

Pam's breasts were ample and soft. Age had made them less firm but no less lovely. Pam secretly loved her D-cup breasts, which were round and generous with small pink nipples. She'd always had a 'full figure,' complete with wide hips (Dave called them _breeder's hips_ ), but her waist was small and created great curves in clingy clothing. At five-foot-seven, her curvy shape fit her frame well. She was never one to hide her attributes and loved the admiring eye of her husband both in and out of bed.

Dave kissed and nibbled the warm flesh at the top and sides of Pam's breasts, stroking her nipples with his thumbs. She gasped as he placed his mouth fully over her left nipple, alternately sucking and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Her breasts grew hot as he worked his way from right to left and back again. Pam's breathing was already becoming ragged. She grasped his hand and gently pushed it down.

Dave let his fingers graze her pubic hair. As he heard Pam moan, Dave let his fingers roam, finding her crease and running them up and down the silky, moist flesh. He reached further with his fingers, finding her wettest spot, and explored inside.

Pam whimpered as Dave worked his fingers in and out and up and down. He sucked on her right nipple at the same time and she started to move her hips, thrusting them up to meet the rhythm of his hand. He continued to play with her for several minutes, relishing the noises he heard. Her breath was coming out in short bursts. Dave pushed his body into her, his hardness reaching her thigh for some much-desired contact.

Keeping his hand between her legs, Dave kissed his way up to Pam's collarbone and along the side of her neck. She was starting to squirm. His cock, which was rubbing itself into Pam's hip, was still throbbing.

Pam's eyes opened wide. Dave nodded almost unconsciously, pushed his shorts off and climbed onto her. Once again he toyed with her moistness, then withdrew his hand and wiped her slickness onto his tip and shaft, entering her slowly.

Dave felt like exploding, but he held himself still and enjoyed the moment for as long as he could before his body started to take over. He thrusted slowly and deliberately, pressing and holding himself to her mound each time to pleasure her most sensitive area. He kissed her gently and Pam began to move her hips upward to meet his thrusts, her breath escaping in little pants.

"Harder," she pleaded. "I need you to fuck me harder." Her hands trailed up and down his sides as he moved. At one point, she stopped stroking with her hands and started digging into his sides with her fingers. Dave was happy she didn't have long nails, but nonetheless, it hurt.

Dave felt something change beneath him. Pam was quivering and her cheeks had that familiar flush. She was writhing under him. Her hands had stopped digging in, but they tightened on the sides of his body. With one deliberate movement, Pam thrust her hips upward and held them there. She shut her eyes tightly. Her head and shoulders arched back. An animated groan escaped her throat. It hit Dave as much as it did her – like a shock wave going through his body as he felt her tighten beneath him and grip his cock, pulsating over and over around it.

Dave was so close, but knew from experience that Pam always wanted him to keep thrusting at this point. A full minute passed before Pam opened her eyes again and gazed up at her husband. Her mouth was closed, but her lips were turned upwards and her eyes were fiery. Dave's body was screaming for release.

Pam instinctively wrapped her legs and arms around Dave's back as he moved in and out of her. He kept his thrusting slow, teasing himself to the point of near madness. Dave tried to stop altogether but that didn't last long. Within seconds he was moving again and felt a thrill start low in his belly.

He willed himself not to close his eyes, looking down at Pam and seeing her encouragement. She looked as excited as he felt and that threw him right over the edge. He looked her into her eyes as he came, the muscles in his arms shaking as he filled her.

The couple kissed each other's necks, but weariness soon took over. Dave withdrew and they fell away from each other. Both lay spread eagle and drenched. It took a few minutes for either of them to move or speak. Pam turned her head toward Dave and found him already looking at her. They joined hands, but otherwise could not yet move.

"God – you're a wild woman tonight!" Dave exclaimed.

"See what having the kids out of the house does?"

"We gotta kick those kids out more often," Dave chuckled.

As usual, Dave fell asleep quickly, but Pam felt wide awake. She lay there nude, caressing her own body. Orgasms always left her feeling slightly hyper, but it was a feeling she savoured. She reached down and felt the stickiness Dave had left there. She'd want to go into the bathroom and sop up with a nice hot cloth before she went to sleep, or she'd wake up feeling gooey between the legs. For now, though, she enjoyed toying with the slickness that coated her still-engorged flesh. She ran slippery fingers over her clit and marveled at how sensitive it was. Pam thought for a moment about continuing to rub herself to go for a second "O" but decided against it, as she'd take forever trying to fall asleep afterward. She figured sleep was a pretty good option.

Finally starting to feel some weariness, Pam went to the bathroom to tidy up and have one last pee for the night. She came back to bed, slipped on a short nightshirt, and climbed in. Despite concerns about lying awake, she fell asleep with ease.

Sunday morning was lazy. Dave got up at 8 a.m., but Pam stayed in bed for a couple of hours longer. She savoured the feeling of complete luxury, cocooned in warmth with every muscle relaxed. As much as she liked having Dave sleeping beside her, it felt wonderful on the occasions when she had the king-sized bed to herself, drinking in the solitude and quiet. Even after she was awake and alert, she continued to snuggle into the bedding, eyes closed. _If I didn't have a stomach or a bladder, I think I'd be happy to lay here forever._

But she did have a stomach and she did have a bladder and they both eventually started to complain. Pam grudgingly pushed off the duvet at 10:15 a.m. and headed to the bathroom. Her stomach growled on the way there.

She heard stirrings elsewhere in the house. Samantha and Dylan had both come home just past 1 a.m., but in her exhausted slumber, Pam never heard them enter the house. Deciding to shower later in the day, she dressed and headed downstairs for some breakfast – and some strong, black coffee.

Sunday rolled along like most others. The kids raided the fridge. Pam went shopping and filled it. The kids raided the fridge again. She put some healthy food items on the top shelf that she hoped they would take to school for lunch tomorrow. Dave was in the garage trying to get the lawn mower in shape. It was the first week of April and it was the warmest spring she could remember in years. The grass was already growing long.

Pam sat at the computer for a couple of hours in the afternoon. She was busy adding another couple of chapters to her X-Files fanfiction. This one was hotter than ever and she found herself aroused and squirming just writing it. _This one will probably get me arrested!_ The X-Files was her favourite show, even though it had ended a decade ago. There was something about the relationship between the two FBI agents, Scully and Mulder, which tugged at her heart like no other.

She'd discovered fanfiction a couple of years ago while surfing the Internet for nothing in particular. At first, she thought it was bizarre, but soon became fascinated with the possibilities. Before starting at the public relations firm, she'd worked for years as a reporter and had a way with words, but never saw herself as a fiction writer. But here were characters she already loved, fully developed – and she could make them do anything she wanted! It was the perfect escape into a fantasy world.

Pam's first few stories allowed her to fill in gaps left out of the show by writers and producers who teased the audience with the flirtatious dance between Mulder and Scully. She immediately got the pair exactly where the real fans always wanted to see them – between the sheets. To her utter shock, the stories were devoured. She had thousands of hits from around the world upon publishing her first two stories. Many added her to their 'favourite authors' list. Pam squeaked with delight when she received reviews of her fiction. It was addictive and she was soon writing novella-length stories.

Pam glanced over her latest story and mused at the sheer silliness of it all. Sometimes she wondered if she wasn't a bit bonkers. Mulder and Scully weren't real, but they somehow felt real to her. She thought about them all the time – what they'd do, what they'd say, how their personal story could have ended differently.

Is that nuts? Oh well, there are people all over the world who belong to Sherlock Holmes societies and he's not real. They dress up in costumes and spend thousands of dollars to go to England and everything. All I do is sit at a computer and let my over-active imagination go wild.

That evening, she sat and watched a Michael Palin travel documentary with Dave. They both hoped to travel extensively throughout the world once the kids were out of the house for good. This series was about the Pacific Rim, but most of the places were so crowded, it didn't really inspire her to want to visit them. Regardless, some of the natural landscapes were spectacular and it did make her dream of jetting away to someplace exotic.

When the show was over, she and Dave talked about the week ahead. Dave had some new clients he was trying to get on board. At Pam's office, a new guy was starting – something to do with social media. Dave sneered at that. "Twitter guy, huh?" Pam shrugged.

The couple was far too weary for sex on Sunday night and Dave needed some extra sleep time. Pam had a 45-minute drive to work, but Dave's could be almost 90 minutes some mornings, driving clear across the city to the west end of Mississauga. At least Dave's workplace paid for him to take the Highway 407 toll route. Dave said the insurance firm's traffic fatality stats indicated the main road across the top of Toronto, Highway 401, had a higher than average risk ratio. The firm discouraged employees from travelling on it.

Pam snuggled up behind him in bed, lifting her nightshirt so her breasts made contact with his back. Dave's body was like a human blast furnace and the warmth radiating off him soon made her sleepy. He was making small snoring noises by the time Pam rolled over to her side of the bed. She pulled her nightshirt back over her breasts and tucked her down pillow under her neck. That night, she fell asleep almost instantly.

#  CHAPTER TWO

On Monday morning, Pam took the elevator to the fourth floor office and it opened to the usual morning hubbub at Pinches Public Relations. Clarence Pinches had purchased the entire fourth floor of the office building near Kingston and Brimley Road in Toronto for his new firm 10 years ago. Pinches worked in public relations firms all across Canada during his early career, but at the age of 52, he decided it was time to open his own business. He only had a dozen employees when the company first opened its doors, but envisioned it growing and needing the extra space. His vision had come true – as these days the fourth floor was populated by 40 employees.

Pam had worked there for six years. She had loved her former career as a newspaper reporter, but the odd hours and commitments it took to do the job put extra stress on her family life. The PR business was more of a 9-to-5 gig, with the occasional bit of night and weekend work, so it offered her more stability and routine. Granted, being a reporter had been much more exciting, but she had become comfortable with her job and got along well with most of her co-workers.

Pinches had a penchant for hiring people from a wide variety of backgrounds. He said it made the firm more balanced and brought in a lot of fresh ideas. His 15 PR consultants came from media, advertising, retail, entertainment, transportation – and even a few who had graduated from public relations at college! Pinches always liked to throw in that last part with a chuckle when describing his company. He was a man of great humour and liked to hear laughter in the office.

Regardless, Pinches was an astute businessman and always on the lookout for people who could keep his firm growing and thriving. While many PR firms specialized in one area, Pinches felt that strategy would put up too many barriers for business and make his employees feel stagnant. He also didn't mind straying into the realms of marketing and communications. Pinches took on clients in a variety of sectors and had a reputation for coming up with fresh and innovative ideas for them.

Pam was currently working on a branding campaign for a new company trying to get a leg up in the niche world of mature women's athletic wear. She was certainly no athlete and never had been, but she had come up with some good ideas for marketing Empowera Athletic to the over-30 set. Pam thought many women's athletic wear companies had sent out an overall message about their products that were either _super girly_ or _totally butch_. Pam's idea was to show "real women with real women's bodies" and send out the message that it was great to have lots of curves and be healthy too. The logo she was helping the design department develop was going to be curvy but bold. It would be an element featured on all the garments.

She'd been working on the project for a month. Her previous assignment was with a semi-rural municipality after fire destroyed the factory of a major employer. Her skills as a reporter came in handy then, as she worked closely with the mayor and town officials to craft appropriate media releases about how the town was going to manage the situation and support local workers. Something she had always liked about Mr. Pinches was that he chose wisely among his consultants, matching their skills to the client. It also meant she didn't know who she'd be working with from one month to the next, which kept the job interesting.

Today, Pinches was bringing in a new consultant to join the team and everyone was speculating about what he would be like. They'd heard rumours that he was some sort of social media guru. Pam was with a few people gathered in the front office, waiting for Mr. Pinches to bring him in. The boss had taken him to breakfast on his first day – something of a tradition when bringing in new employees. The previous week, Mr. Pinches had asked Pam to show the fellow around the office on his first day and make him feel comfortable.

"Probably a real geek," said Beverly, the receptionist. "All those social media types look like that guy Leonard from _The Big Bang Theory_. Funny thing is they don't even know how to talk to anyone; they just sit and gawk at a computer all day, tweeting and twacking."

Joan, one of the consultants, giggled, which started a chain reaction of laughter among the small group. They quieted in a hurry when they heard the ding of the elevator reaching the fourth floor. As the doors opened, everyone turned to see the 'new nerd' Mr. Pinches was bringing in.

Several women were in the group and their mouths literally dropped open. The few men stood still and stared. Mr. Pinches approached the group with his newest hire.

"Well, gang, I'd like to introduce the latest member of our office family. This is Martin Campbell and he's going to bring us all into the new millennium – albeit a decade too late," Mr. Pinches chuckled. "He's our new social media marketing consultant and I hope everyone can give him a warm welcome."

Mr. Pinches' introduction was met by a moment of silence. Beverly, seated behind the reception desk, was the first to approach and shake his hand. "Hello, I'm Beverly. We are so very glad to have you here with us," she said, in a quieter tone than usual. "Social media is really very important, isn't it?"

Martin nodded. "Yes, it is. Thank you for saying that. A lot of people think it's just about Twitter. But don't get me started on that just yet or I'm afraid I won't shut up."

A few of the women giggled. Pam noticed that Beverly, a short, squat woman with thinning hair, was still shaking Martin's hand, her other hand placed on top of his. Martin looked anywhere else but at Beverly and his eyes landed directly on Pam. Those eyes were the richest hazel she had ever seen. She smiled politely, but his attention was soon broken by the flood of co-workers coming forward to shake his hand – Beverly had finally let go – and welcome him to the office.

About a dozen of her co-workers surrounded him, but he was far and away the tallest among them. _Maybe about six-two or six-three, probably late 30s or early 40s._ He was also quite lean, and although the suit hid much of his body, he looked very fit and athletic. His head was crowned by thick, wavy black hair that looked a bit unruly. The word handsome didn't even come close to describing him. His nose was a bit big for his face, but he had those chiseled features you usually see on men modeling suits in magazines like Gentlemen's Quarterly. _But what's with that god-awful bright yellow, striped tie? It doesn't quite match the picture_.

Many of the women had obviously taken in the full package and were fawning all over him. Pam found it humorous to watch. She leaned back against a wall, arms crossed, and took in the spectacle. Pam was wearing a form-fitting-but-not-too-tight dark purple dress that landed just above the knee. Leaning against the wall had made it ride up. She tugged at the bottom, smoothing it out.

She looked back up and was surprised to see Martin glancing in her direction again. Pam thought the usually-professional women she worked with were acting like silly teenage girls hanging off the arms of the school jock. He gazed at her with a bemused expression that shouted "help me!" Pam tried to stifle a laugh but didn't have much luck. After a moment, she approached the group and gently pushed her way through to Martin, extending her hand.

"Hello, Mr. Campbell, I'm Pam Williams, a senior public relations consultant here at Pinches. We're all so glad to meet you, but I'm sure you'd like to get settled in," she said, to which Martin simply nodded. "Well, ladies, I guess I'll take Mr. Campbell on a little tour and show him his desk now, so you'll have to get acquainted a bit later."

Pam was sure she heard a few small groans of protest from a couple of women. She started walking down the hall with Martin at her side. They walked in silence for about 20 seconds before Martin leaned in close to her and whispered, "Thank you," with a grin on his face. Pam smiled back and said, "There are a few of those women I'd watch out for if I was you, Mr. Campbell."

Martin shook his head as they turned into a small office. "Thanks again, but don't worry, I really don't think I'm interested in anything they might have in mind," he said flatly. "And by the way, the name is Martin."

"Okay," said Pam. "Everybody around here is on a first-name basis anyway – although a lot of us call the boss Mr. Pinches because we admire him so much. He really is a very good boss."

"Good to know. So is this my office?"

"Such as it is. Mr. Pinches believes in everyone having their own space, which is nice, but it means those spaces are pretty small. We have several large gathering spots in the common area, however, for collaborating on projects and hanging out together."

Martin nodded, looking around. "Well, I've always said all I really need is a computer and a desk to set it on. I guess this falls under the category of 'be careful what you wish for'," he said, realizing that the desk took up the majority of his tiny office.

Pam watched him smile. _Perfect teeth; he has to have perfect teeth too._ "So, shall I let you get settled in?"

"Ummm, sure," he said distractedly, sitting at his desk and moving some papers aside. Finding a pen, he said, "One last thing; what's your extension?"

"It's 1026," Pam responded.

"Thanks," he said, jotting it down. "Now I know who to call to rescue me if those women launch into _attack mode_ again."

Pam laughed and waved, leaving Pinches Public Relations' newest employee to settle into his first day on the job.

Pam went to her own tiny office and turned her attention back to the fitness apparel project. She had the first proofs of the proposed logo back from the design team, but wasn't happy with them. She took out a big black marker and wrote "too girly" across the top of the proof. Under that, she wrote, "make these lines bolder," with arrows pointing to various areas of the visual identity.

She opened Photoshop and started viewing images of women in fitness gear. She immediately rejected any with women who appeared to be less than 130 pounds. _Skinny doesn't mean fit_. The digital media guy had also included photos of women so fat that they bulged over their sweatpants. That wasn't the look she was after either, so she rejected them as well. After an hour of searching, she had created a folder with a half-dozen photos that fit her branding image.

The women all looked somewhere between 30 and 55. None of them were drop-dead gorgeous, but all were attractive, curvy and womanly. She had chosen women who looked like they ate a steak every once in a while and really enjoyed it – but cared for their body enough to balance good food with healthy exercise. They also appeared friendly – like someone you wouldn't mind chatting with in the line at the grocery store. With the photos chosen, Pam continued to write her proposal for the look of the new Empowera woman.

Her day was largely uninterrupted, save for a half dozen e-mails back and forth with the digital media designer. She was getting closer to what she wanted for the logo, but it still wasn't quite right. Around 3 p.m. there was a light tapping at the open door of her office and she looked up to see Martin. She squeezed her eyes shut for a fraction of a second and opened them again.

"Oh, hi Martin," she said quickly. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Well, apparently, I'm supposed to help you," he said cryptically.

Pam cocked her head to the left. "You're supposed to help me? Mr. first-day-on-the-job," she teased.

Martin stared at her directly as he spoke. "Ummm, well, Mr. Pinches asked me to come see you. He said you might need a little help with social media marketing."

Pam furrowed her brow. This guy was cocky, strutting in on his first day and insinuating he could improve upon the job she was doing. Regardless, she wanted this particular assignment to be a real success and a little advice couldn't hurt. She paused for several seconds before responding to him, doing her best to erase any negativity from her face.

"Very well, Mr. Campbell, have a seat and share your expertise with me."

Martin frowned. "Please don't call me that. I always think of my high school French teacher when I hear 'Mr. Campbell.' I'm Martin, or even Marty if you really must, but _never, ever, ever_ , Mr. Campbell."

Pam held back a smile. "Okay, _Marty_ it is then," she teased. "Please sit." She gestured toward a chair that took up the only free space in her office. He pulled it out from the corner, maneuvered it around a few boxes of files on the floor and sat across the desk from her.

"Over the next few weeks, I'm going to be talking to all the PR and marketing reps about social media marketing. Once I get through that list, I'm going to talk to everyone else – accounting, human resources, legal – and even to Beverly," Martin said, the right side of his mouth turning up slightly. "You see, the whole point of social marketing is that it's a real people thing and you never know who's going to come up with the next great idea."

"I'm sure Beverly has one or two ideas she'd like to share with you," Pam said, raising her eyebrows, and was unable to stop what came out of her mouth next. "Actually, this may be inappropriate to say, but I think when she saw you, she smelled fresh meat."

Martin responded with a slow nod. "Well, whatever she smelled, it's not anything that's about to come her way any time soon. That's not why I'm here."

Pam and Martin sat quietly for a moment before turning back to business. "Mr. Pinches told me you're working on a branding campaign for a line of women's athletic wear. That's an extremely competitive market," Martin commented.

"You have no idea." Pam told him about the line of clothing and her ideas for marketing it to the mature woman. She shared her thoughts about the logo and branding the products by featuring healthy looking women, rather than bone-thin models. Martin scooted his chair around to her side of the desk so Pam could show him the latest logo, just back from the design department. Pam was much happier with this version, which used bolder, thicker lines, juxtaposed with delicate loops.

Pam suddenly felt far too aware of Martin's thigh under the desk next to her. Like Dave in bed, it seemed to be radiating warmth. _I wonder if all men radiate so much heat. And what's that scent? It's too subtle to be cologne. Oh, geez; I think I smell his underarm deodorant._ As Martin admired the design on her computer screen, Pam shifted her chair away ever so slightly and tried to re-focus. She took a sip of water from the bottle on her desk.

"I think we can use all these ideas and weave them into the Web world quite easily," said Martin.

Martin launched into an explanation about not wanting to step on any professional toes, but planning to gather everyone's ideas and spread their message to as many people as possible.

"Social marketing is really about brand awareness, getting the look and feel of something onto the screens of precisely the right demographic. It needs to be part of any company that wants to thrive today. People get to see the same look, the same message and the same feel from a company or product in a variety of online venues. If it's handled properly, those people also begin to feel a sense of ownership and loyalty, because they can have direct interaction. They get the personal touch before they even see the product for real."

Pam had always been aware of social marketing, but she'd never heard it explained so well. She'd mostly thought of it as a means of selling directly on the Internet, not as a branding tool. Martin continued to explain its importance.

"Today, most word of mouth is achieved through social networking – a lot of marketers call it eWOM, for 'electronic word of mouth.' People have a chance to say online whether they like something or hate it, but regardless, the word gets out. And even if people do hate something, that's a positive too, because it's a powerful source of consumer feedback. That can lead to better product development. In turn, when companies are open about the re-development of their products due to feedback, you get a whole lot of people developing brand awareness, and even more important, becoming loyal to a brand."

Pam was nodding again, but Martin lost her as he continued, extolling the virtues of QR codes and Smart Phones, Facebook, LinkedIn, blogs, YouTube and something called Yelp.

Martin noticed Pam's detached expression, realized he may have delivered too much information, and paused. "Oh yeah, and there's also something called Twitter." He looked very serious at first, but then the corners of his mouth turned up slowly.

Pam wasn't sure if he was patronizing her with that last comment or making fun of himself. Regardless, it was impossible to ignore those dark hazel eyes. _My god, he's not just gorgeous, he's brilliant. How can anyone this handsome be so smart?_

Pam considered intelligence as the most attractive quality in a man – a quirky sense of humour running a close second. This guy seemed to have both. She gave herself a quick mental slap upside the head to not think about that at the office.

"Yeah, I have heard something about Twitter," she said calmly.

Martin laughed. "I know a lot of people aren't interested in this kind of stuff, but Mr. Pinches sees it as an area of growth. Who knows – there could eventually be a whole team of geeks like me in this company. Of course, none of them will be as _good_ as me."

Martin had that 'trying to look serious' face again, but they both ended up laughing.

"Anyway, I'm sure you've heard more than enough about social media marketing for today," said Martin, still sitting, but wheeling his chair back to the other side of the desk. "I'll draw up a list of ideas for your product and we can talk about it later this week, okay?"

"That sounds good," said Pam. "I hope you enjoy your first week."

Martin rose out of his chair and filled her doorway. He looked very tall and business-like in his dark blue suit. Regardless, Pam still thought the yellow tie seemed a little out of place. "I'm really enjoying it so far, Ms. Williams," he said unhurriedly, and left.

Over the next few weeks, Pam was aware of Martin travelling from office to office, sharing his vision for social media marketing with everyone on the team. Some of her co-workers seemed quite intrigued by the possibilities while others were less than enthused. Regardless, Martin was developing a role as an important part of the team. He was easy to get along with and everyone seemed to like him.

Pam noticed, however, that while Martin was engaged with the team, he never seemed to spend much time with anyone individually. She didn't hear him making small talk or showing interest in the personal goings-on of people in the office. Some of her co-workers probably thought he was standoffish, but she was the same that way. Pam came to work, did her job, did it well, and went home. She enjoyed working with people on the team, but didn't think of them as friends.

Martin and Pam had a couple of meetings about her project in those first few weeks. She supplied him with scads of information about the product, the company and the people behind it. He created a social media marketing plan that included blogs by the company president and the fitness apparel designer, arranging a videographer to shoot videos for YouTube spots, an interactive area of the company website where consumers could write reviews, and came up with several other innovative ideas.

Pam enjoyed her meetings with Martin and started to feel more comfortable around him. She always made sure, however, to sit far enough away from him to not detect his deodorant again or accidentally brush up against any part of him. They were building a good rapport and she didn't want an involuntary gasp or a flushed face on her part to get in the way of that.

She kept telling herself the fact that he was the best looking man in the office shouldn't have anything to do with their working relationship. Pam looked at Martin's long lean body in his latest dark suit – with a pink tie this time – and decided it was okay to look – just not to touch. _Everything's going to be fine._ She smiled inwardly. _If I have any hot hormonal surges, I'll have to work them off with Dave at night_.

#  Chapter three

It had been a busy month and the team finally had a day when everyone could take a bit of a breather. Mr. Pinches had organized a lunch to thank everyone for their efforts in making his company such a success. It was in a restaurant on the first level of their office building and the group had a room all to themselves, set up with a dozen high tables surrounded by bar stools. Pam had come down in the elevator with a group of co-workers and they filed into the private room with smells of grilled meat and vegetables wafting into their nostrils. She had expected a served lunch, but a buffet table was set so that everyone could make their own fajitas.

Pam glanced across the room and saw Martin, his height accentuated by several shorter women standing next to him. Despite the obviously admiring gaggle of females, he was looking straight at her. Pam felt warmth flush her face. _There are so many people in here. It's just hot._ She quickly averted her gaze and turned to the boss, who had come into the room, greeting him and shaking his hand in thanks for the generous gesture of a staff lunch.

A line formed and everyone began the process of building their personal fajitas. The sounds of happy voices filled the room. It had been a while since everyone had gotten together outside the office environment and they all seemed to be relaxed and enjoying each other's company. Pam grabbed her plate and placed a tortilla shell on it. Kenny, the chubby guy from accounting, was standing behind her and she chatted with him about how delicious everything looked. Carefully, she glanced down the buffet line and saw Martin three people away. He was stylish as ever in a well-fitted charcoal suit. He caught her glance, nodded toward the food and smiled.

That smile was a killer. No one in the office should be allowed to look that good. It's way too distracting.

Pam turned all her attention to her plate, spreading the tortilla shell with fresh guacamole, sprinkling it with chopped tomatoes, fried veggies, heaping strips of chicken on top and topping it all off with shredded cheddar. Beverly turned toward her, grinning. "How the heck are we even supposed to fold these up? It's going to be such a mess. I'm going to drip this all over myself," she giggled.

Pam looked at her own crisp, white cotton shirt. She grimaced, realizing it was a bad day to be wearing white. Shrugging her shoulders and thinking, 'what will be, will be,' she headed to a table with a few empty bar stools. Sitting, she smiled when she saw everyone trying to fold up their over-stuffed fajitas without making a total mess of themselves.

Pam busied herself with her own folding but was soon aware of someone beside her. She glanced sideways and saw Martin standing there with his plate. Wordlessly, he slipped onto the bar stool beside her.

Martin had been smarter about his food. He had two tortilla shells, but they were loaded only lightly, with a few chicken strips placed strategically in a horizontal pattern. She watched his long fingers wrap the tortillas expertly into two tight bundles before tucking the tops up and under to create a perfectly neat package. His method of military precision was too much; she laughed out loud.

Martin turned to her with a puzzled look, which made her laugh even harder. He looked around the table, but no one else was laughing; they were busy struggling with their food.

"What? What is it? Do I have guacamole on my forehead or something?"

Pam quieted and shook her head. "Are you so good at everything?"

Martin furrowed his brow. "Maybe. What the hell are you talking about?"

She pointed at the plates of everyone else at the table, which were covered with sloppy bits of veggies and cheese and at her own haphazardly-wrapped lunch, which posed a potentially massive threat to her white shirt. She then looked up at Martin and glanced down at his perfect plate, worthy of gourmet chef status, and waved her upturned hand across it, à la Vana White in Wheel of Fortune. Martin stared down at his plate and started to get the picture, a grin creeping across his face.

"Well, I'll let you in on a little secret," he said, leaning in and whispering near her ear. "I worked at Taco Bell when I was a kid and I learned a few tricks of the trade." He said it with such a mischievous grin, Pam wasn't sure if he was playing with her or not. "May I?" he asked, gesturing toward her plate. _He wants to fix my food?_

He pulled her plate closer and grabbed a fork, gently pulling the tortilla open, stabbing a few strips of chicken and veggies placing them onto the side of her plate. She'd never noticed before how long his fingers were. They worked swiftly, delicately re-wrapping the tortilla and tucking it up into a perfectly neat triangle. "Bet you didn't know I could perform magic tricks," he said, pushing the plate back toward her and wiggling his eyebrows.

"Actually, I suspected you could," she deadpanned. "Thanks. I think you saved me from an impending shirt disaster."

"Anything I can do to assist a damsel in distress," he said. "Eat up, co-worker." He was smiling again. _What is with that smile?_

While the two sat and enjoyed their lunch, the noise around them came in waves as the team ate, laughed and drank from large jugs of lemonade that were delivered to each table. Pam wondered why the boss would have ordered such a messy meal for the gang, but as she glanced around the tables, she soon realized why. It was like little kids at a party. The fajitas were dripping juices on chins and veggie bits onto ties and skirts – and everyone was laughing about it. There were mini-contests going on about who was the messiest and who could wrap the tightest fajita. Everyone was getting along and having fun with each other. She watched as wait staff filled the end of the buffet tables with a rainbow of cupcakes piled high with mountains of colourful icing – another delightful mess in the making. _Talk about a team building exercise! What a smart boss!_

"Hmmmm...cupcakes. Now there's something I really don't need," she heard Martin mumble.

"What – you don't want a blue tongue?" Pam teased.

"It's more the sugar I'm thinking about." He paused for a moment. "I usually go for a walk at lunchtime. It's really nice out. You want to get some air?"

Pam swallowed hard. A walk? What would we talk about? Oh, it's only a little walk for crying out loud. Say something quick!

"Sure," she blurted. "Air sounds great."

"Okay, then. I need to tidy up a little. See you out front in five?" Pam nodded and watched him walk away to the men's room. It was a nice view. She left the table and headed for the women's, taking a moment to sit in a stall and tell herself to stop being such a ridiculous old broad – that she should relax. She washed up and headed out of the bathroom ready for their stroll.

As she entered the glass foyer in front of the building, she spied Martin leaning against the wall outside. He was so tall and his suit accentuated his leanness. He was staring off into space with a look that was most decidedly sad. As she headed through the front doors into the warm spring afternoon, it occurred to her that he did that a lot.

He looked up and smiled softly as she approached. "Anywhere in particular you want to walk, or shall we stroll aimlessly?" he asked.

"I'm all for being aimless today," she replied.

"Okay, aimless it is then. Let's go."

Although the office building was in a built-up area in the east end of the city, a large natural space called Bluffer's Park was nearby and the two naturally gravitated in that direction. They were silent for a few minutes, but soon started chatting about people in the office – it seemed the easiest topic to discuss.

Pam told Martin about her talks with Beverly, who was nice enough but perhaps "not the sharpest tool in the shed." Beverly was fond of sending her e-mails containing outrageous claims, such as a man transporting a large-horned bull across the country in a convertible, or how the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland was creating a black hole and swallowing up chunks of the planet. Pam enjoyed debunking these hoaxes by making quick cyber trips to Snopes.com and sending witty retorts back to Beverly.

"Honestly, she thinks I'm some sort of guru or something. She gets all agitated and upset by these ludicrous e-mails people send her and then she's always so shocked that within two minutes of sending them to me, I've found evidence of it being a hoax. It's humorous, but I can't believe how gullible some people are. I guess it takes a lot for me to believe in much of anything. I need to see proof," Pam explained.

"That's the old reporter instinct coming out in you."

Pam frowned and playfully shoved him on the arm. "Who are you calling old?"

"Huh? No one. You seem like a pretty tough broad. I don't think I'd want to piss you off," he teased.

"And by the way...how did you know I was a reporter?"

Martin leaned in and said mysteriously, "I have my spies."

Both of them were relaxed as they entered the park. They headed for a railing on the edge of a bluff that overlooked out over Lake Ontario. Reaching it, they stopped, leaned over the railing and admired the view. The spring sun was glinting off tiny waves, creating dazzling sparkles. The water had a calming, hypnotic effect. The co-workers were silent for a few minutes. Pam was surprised how comfortable the silence was. Her nose detected something sweet and she looked up to see tightly-packed, pink blossoms on a wild apple tree beside the railing. They looked ready to burst open. She was thinking that spring was certainly well underway, when Martin broke the silence.

"This is a 15-minute walk from the office. I'm always shocked at how few people there are here at lunchtime," said Martin. "There's fresh air and beautiful trees and even a nice path right there leading to the lake," he pointed. "You'd think the place would be packed – that everyone would want to get out here and enjoy this."

Pam nodded. She had often come here herself. "Martin, day after day I see people sitting at their desks all day long. They eat their lunch there, they sit there all afternoon and then they go home. I don't think it occurs to them that there is a world outside the front door of that office building."

Martin wrapped his fingers around the top rail and sighed pleasantly as he gave his back a long stretch. "Well," he said, drawing the word out slowly, "maybe that's just as well. It means a bit more peace and quiet and a fleeting fantasy of escape for you and me."

Pam smiled uncertainly. "You have a way with words."

Her comment was met with a small sideways grin and Martin tilted his head to indicate that they continue walking along the edge of the bluff. They strolled and made small talk as the trail wound its way in a circle back in the direction of the office. Pam noticed there were still a few people in the restaurant when they walked back into the building, but most of them had headed back upstairs to the office.

Pam and Martin didn't talk on the way up in the elevator. When the doors opened onto Pinches Public Relations, they turned to each other. Their offices were in opposite directions. "This was a pleasure, Ms. Williams," said Martin. "We must do this again some time."

"That sounds nice," said Pam, and they each headed toward their offices.

Entering her office and sitting at her desk, she felt a sense of nagging restlessness. _Must be the spring air_.

#  chapter four

"Are you ready for this weekend?" Pam read across the bottom of the screen. She hesitated and took a big breath before answering Hannah's question.

"I'm not sure. Sometimes I think we're both totally crazy...a couple of weird old chicks."

"We're not weird, we're QUIRKY!!!" was the almost immediate response. Pam shook her head and heaved a sigh. She wondered how she had gotten herself into this, but after all, it had been her idea. It was all arranged – there was no backing out now. Hannah was so energized that she had suggested a Tuesday night online chat to work out the final details.

"Yeah, well Dave thinks we're both nuts. He doesn't even want to watch. He says if I'm still alive afterwards, he'll watch the YouTube."

A series of smiley faces was Hannah's response. They'd been chatting for a while and both decided to call it a night.

"Luv ya, babe. I'll see you on Saturday. Lots of kisses."

Pam resigned herself to her friend's gushiness. "Kisses back at ya. See you Saturday morning."

She turned off the monitor and looked at Dave, who had popped in an old DVD of _Dallas_. They bought a set of the entire series at a garage sale last summer and were on season four. Pam didn't remember watching much of the show, but Dave remembered seeing most of it in his teens and early 20s.

"I think we're going to find out who shot J.R.," he grinned.

Pam snorted. "Dave, you know full well who shot J.R. You found that out 30 years ago."

"Ahhh...shhhhh...don't spoil the surprise," he said, waving both hands at her.

"You are a very silly husband," she said, sitting in the recliner chair next to him.

"So, how's work going?" he asked, fiddling with the remote. "You finished yet with that exercise wear for fat old broads?"

Pam was used to her husband's sense of humour. "Actually, yes; we've really gotten the ball rolling for them and the clients are very happy with the campaign. I've had a lot of help from Martin, the new social media consultant."

Dave looked at her and nodded. "So he ended up being a pretty good guy then, eh? Not just some geek in a suit?"

Pam laughed. "No, not a geek. A smart guy, but definitely not a geek."

Dave finally found the correct button on the remote and they settled in for an episode of _Dallas_.

On Wednesday morning, Pam was in the kitchen, trying to throw together sandwiches for the family. For once, she had a bit of something that everyone liked. She enjoyed being so organized but it didn't happen very often. The kids had finished breakfast and were upstairs retrieving their backpacks. She shoved apples and sandwiches into the insulated lunch bags that were colour-coded for each member of the family. They'd all chosen individual colours for lunch bags and reusable water bottles a couple of years ago. It made mornings a little less chaotic – but not much.

Pam thought Dylan sounded like a herd of elephants coming down the stairs. He had been in a grumpy mood since he woke up. Dylan saw the lunch bag. "There better not be any meat in there," he growled. "I don't like eating things that are dead," he said, scowling at his mother.

Pam sighed. "You know, Dylan, some children say thank you when their mother makes them a lunch." Dylan grunted something unintelligible, muttered a quick "thanks" and grabbed the bag. He stuffed it into his backpack and trudged out of the kitchen.

Dave was still sitting at the breakfast table. "Hon, why do let him talk to you like that?"

Pam looked at him incredulously. " _Let him_? Dave, you don't understand. I don't _let him_ do anything. He just does it. He never acts that way to you, so how could you understand?"

Dave shrugged slowly. Samantha came into the kitchen and kissed her mom on the cheek. "Yeah, well I heard what stinky old Dylan said and I think he's stupid. I hope you put lots of dead things in my lunch," she said sweetly. Pam smiled at her daughter as she picked up the sack and headed for the door. _Samantha can be such an angel and I want to throw Dylan through the window most of the time. How can I love both of them so much?_ She sighed _. Maybe what Hannah says is right. Many there are many kinds of love and you can't begin to compare them._

Dave got up and put his plate in the dishwasher. He leaned over and kissed Pam. "Kids, huh?" was all he said, grabbing his keys off the counter and heading for the door. Pam was the last one out of the house and she spent the commute to work thinking what a weird bunch they all were. Not truly dysfunctional, just weird.

At the office, Pam slogged through a backlog of e-mails she had been neglecting while working on the Empowera account, which she had all but concluded. Mr. Pinches hadn't given her any other major projects yet, so it was a good time to catch up. She'd hardly moved from her desk all morning and was mostly oblivious to what was going on in the outer office. She saw a shadow cross her desk and looked up to see Martin standing in the doorway.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied.

"Whatcha got in the purple lunch bag?"

Pam looked down at the bag and felt her stomach rumble. She looked at her watch and was surprised to see it was past noon.

"Oh, umm, it's a turkey and tomato sandwich and an apple."

"Yummy. Sounds like a good soggy meal."

Pam scowled. "Oh, yeah; well what do you have, _Marty_?"

"Well, if you must know, I'm heating the leftovers of last night's stir fry in the microwave right now."

"Huh...stir fry. That sounds really good. I haven't had anything like that in a while. Sometimes I dream of eating something other than meat and potatoes."

Martin looked at her for a minute, his expression unreadable. "Pam, how often do you treat yourself? I've been here for almost two months and I see you with that purple bag every day. How about you leave that bag at home tomorrow and I take you out to lunch?"

Pam looked at Martin but words were slow to come to her. _He's asking me out to lunch? Wow! Say something, stupid._

"Uh, yeah...sure. That sounds great."

"Okay. I'll come by your office before noon. I think I know a special little place you'll like."

Pam nodded as he left her doorway.

The next day, Martin showed up at Pam's door just before noon, precisely on schedule. "You ready?"

"Oh, I am more than ready. I can't wait to see where we're going."

"Well, then, let's head out. We're taking the bus and then the subway."

"The bus and the subway?" she squeaked. "Why _on earth_ are we doing _that_?"

"Because I like the subway. And...because this place is only six stops away."

"Okay," Pam grumbled. "I'm game for anything, I guess, if it means a good lunch."

They only had to wait a moment for the bus, which deposited them at the Victoria Park Station within five minutes. The pair hopped on the subway and emerged up to the sidewalk from Pape Station into a different world. As they walked, Pam saw the street signs were not only in English, but in another language with symbols that looked backwards. Martin noticed her bewildered look.

"Welcome to my neighbourhood – Greektown."

Pam looked around at the open-air vegetable markets and outdoor patios. The late May weather still had a little bit of a nip to it and the patios were vacant, but she predicted they would be packed within a month or so.

"Martin, I know this will sound strange because I work so close, but I've never been here before. This is really exciting!"

"Glad you like it. I live a couple of blocks away. This strip of Danforth Avenue is famous for its Greek food, Greek bakeries, Greek clothing stores – everything Greek."

Pam looked at him sideways. "Are you Greek?"

"No...I just like the food," he replied, opening the door of a restaurant called _Acacio's on The Danforth_. He touched the small of her back lightly as he led her inside.

The restaurant was at least half-full, and heady aromas wafted through the air. They stood at the 'Please wait to be seated' sign for only a couple of seconds before a short, mustachioed 60-something man approached them with a big smile on his face. "Martin," he said, wrapping his arms around him. "Haven't seen you for too long. Where you be all this time?"

"Acacio, I was here last week."

The older man released Martin from the hug, laughing. "Yes, that is what I mean... too long! I will get Dositeo to serve you at your usual table for you and the lovely lady you have brought with you. Go ahead, you sit down."

"Thank you, Acacio. You treat me too well."

Acacio shook his hand in front of his face and laughed as he strolled back to the kitchen.

Pam was grinning at their interaction. "I take it you come here often."

"Every once in a while," he shrugged, leading her to a booth with red, velvety seats.

Dositeo promptly brought them their menus. "Mr. Martin, would you like to start with some meze?" he asked.

"Yes, Dositeo, that would be nice. Wine meze, please."

Dositeo nodded and left quickly.

Pam had opened her menu and was studying it. It wasn't in Greek like the road signs, but it may as well have been. She had no idea what most of the dishes were. Martin noticed her befuddled look and leaned across the table.

"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly.

"I think I'd better," she said, still staring at the menu.

"Good," he said, as Dositeo was arriving with a plate of cold meze. Martin had a brief conversation with the waiter, much of which Pam didn't understand. Dositeo didn't write anything down, but promptly disappeared back into the kitchen.

Martin turned back to Pam. He edged the plate toward her. "Please, try some meze." He pronounced it _mez-zay_. "It's an assortment of appetizers flavoured with wine. We have some anchovy fillets, salted fish, fresh veggies, eggplant dip and a little bit of octopus."

"Octopus!"

"You got something against octopus?"

Pam stared at the plate and picked up a piece with her fingers. "No way, nothing against it...just never tried it." Martin plucked a piece off of the plate, plunked it briefly into the dip and popped it into his mouth, moaning with pleasure as he chewed. Pam felt a chill of adventure as she did the same and put the morsel into her mouth. It was a little chewy, but wonderfully seasoned and salty.

"Yum!" she said vigorously, making Martin smile widely. _Oh, boy...don't look at him while he's doing that._

The pair continued to pick their way through the appetizers as they waited for the main course. Pam didn't know what it was going to be but had already decided she was going to try a bit of everything. She thought some chit chat might make the time pass faster.

"So, Martin, tell me what you do for fun when you're not toiling at Pinches Public Relations."

Martin looked at the tablecloth and thoughtfully rubbed his chin before he spoke.

"Okay," he said, looking up at her. "I'm not sure if I want this to get around, but I live with someone."

Pam was amazed. Martin had never mentioned a girlfriend. "Really!" she said. "What is this someone's name?"

"Amber," he said softly.

"Amber," Pam nodded. "This is a bit of a surprise, but a happy one. Tell me all about her."

Martin looked pensive. "Well, let's see. She's very blond, slender, has long, beautiful hair – I love to brush it." He paused for a moment. "Oh...and she's five years old."

Pam's mouth dropped open. "You have a daughter?"

Martin looked at her passively for a moment. "Actually, I have a Golden Retriever."

Pam was momentarily confused and stunned. Then she started laughing.

"Oh my goodness, here I thought you had a woman tucked away who you were keeping a secret from everyone. You are evil!"

"No, no woman, just a big goofy dog. I got her from one of those rescue places. Some people can't handle a big dog. I have a house and a backyard where she can play. I get someone to walk her every day and take her to doggie daycare a couple of times a week so she can really burn off some energy. She even goes jogging with me sometimes."

"That sounds great," said Pam. "I've often wished I could have a dog, but my daughter is allergic, so that would have to wait until she's out of the house."

"She's going away to college next year, right? Which one of the five did she choose?"

"She decided on Western." Pam had mentioned her kids a couple of times to Martin and it sounded like he had retained what she had told him. "It's going to be different having her gone next fall. My life seems to be moving along so quickly," she added.

"Life does that."

"Don't I know it! I'll tell you a very poorly kept secret. I'm going to be 50 this year – and somehow that seems impossible."

"Mmmm...I think I know how you feel, at least to a degree. I turned 40 a couple of years ago and I wasn't sure what to think of it. Actually, it didn't really hit me at all at the time, but when I turned 42 this year, I realized I'm into a totally different decade in my life."

"I know it shouldn't mean anything, but somehow the numbers do affect us," Pam added. "I have this friend, Hannah, and she turned 50 earlier this year. I'm turning 50 on the last day of August. Hannah said that I should make a game of it by drawing up a list of 15 fun things I wanted to do before I'm 50. Isn't that silly?"

Martin gazed into the distance. "No. No, I don't think that's silly at all. I've heard of that concept before. I think it's a good way of pushing yourself into the things you really want to do." He looked back at her and squeezed his eyebrows together. "What's on the list?"

Pam could feel herself going red in the face. "Oh, you don't want to know. It's mostly senseless and clichéd."

Martin sat silently. "You have it on you, don't you?"

Pam's eyes darted around the room before coming back to meet Martin's. He was staring at her.

"Are you psychic?" He kept staring and Pam started squirming. "Yes, that's part of the game. I keep it in my purse and as soon as I accomplish one of the tasks, I stroke it off the list."

Martin pursed his lips together. He leaned forward and whispered, "Show it to me."

#  chapter five

Pam looked at the man across the table from her and swallowed hard. "I've never shown the list to anyone but Hannah. Not even Dave has seen it."

Martin shook his head. "I wouldn't show it to him either if I was you. But _I_ want to see it. Tell you what – I'll buy your lunch if you show me that list when we're finished eating."

Pam quickly weighed the pros and cons. It had some personal stuff on it, but she'd actually been dying to share her secret list with at least one other person. _Can I trust him?_ She looked into those dark hazel eyes and made a quick decision. "Okay," she said, just as the server was delivering their meals. Pam noticed Dositeo quickly hand Martin a piece of paper and Martin slipped the waiter a credit card with a $20 bill under it. _I guess he really is a regular here – and no wonder they like him so much – he's a good tipper_.

Bowls and platters were set in the middle of the table and Dositeo set a large empty plate in front of each of them. Pam was impressed with the varied selection of foods and the aromas filling her nostrils.

"Where do I even begin?"

Martin chuckled. "Wherever you want." He described each dish in detail. They had briam, a form of ratatouille that included not only eggplant but also potatoes and zucchini; stuffed bell peppers, moussaka topped with a rich fluffy cheese sauce an inch thick, and lamb souvlaki with garlicky tzaziki sauce. Pam filled her plate with some of each dish.

"This might fill us up for now," said Martin, "but if you like this place, I'll bring you here for dessert sometime. They have the best baklava I've ever tasted. It's a phyllo pastry drowning in honey and sprinkled with fresh walnuts. It's sticky and chewy – and glorious."

Since they had arrived, Pam had been admiring a beautiful pepper mill on their table. It was large – almost a foot tall – and obviously hand-made. It was intricately carved and painted. The undercoat was bold yellow and it was adorned with large flowers on the bottom and delicate blooms near the top. Each table had one, but they all appeared to be one of a kind.

"Martin, isn't this beautiful? Imagine the work that went into this." She turned the brass handle on the top and ground a generous amount of pepper onto her food. "Can you tell I love pepper?" she chuckled. "My, this certainly is a lovely piece," she said, setting the grinder back to its place at the side of the table.

Pam devoured more food than she had in ages. _To hell with calories! This is amazing!_

Martin was pleased she was enjoying everything. They both ate heartily and before long the bowls and platters were all but empty. Dositeo arrived and whisked away the dishes. He quickly returned with small cups of rich, dark coffee. Pam noticed Dositeo slip a receipt under Martin's coffee before he set it down.

"I cannot believe we ate all that. Martin, thank you so much. This was delicious."

Martin nodded. He had a mischievous look. "You know how you can thank me. Hand it over."

Pam had enjoyed the meal so much, she'd actually forgotten about letting him see the list. Nervously, she took a worn piece of yellow lined paper out of her purse and handed it to Martin. He unfolded it, reading the contents silently and without any change in his expression.

15 Things to Do Before I am 50

- Drink a $100 bottle of wine (maybe by myself or maybe with a friend)

- Smoke pot (definitely with a friend)

- Read a 500-page book in one sitting

- Meet Mulder

- Jump out of a perfectly good airplane

- Say no when you feel obligated to say yes

- Have phone sex

- Steal something – something fun

- Get a classy tattoo in a private place

- Have the house to myself for an entire weekend

- Do something completely stupid

- Buy a pair of expensive silk undies, wear them once

and throw them away

- Play hooky from work (and do something fun)

- Figure out what I want to be when I grow up

- Eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz dark chocolate ice-cream

He seemed to be studying it thoroughly, and after what seemed like an eternity to Pam, finally looked up.

"Some of these are already crossed out."

Pam swallowed hard before she spoke. "Well, I've had this list in my purse for a couple of months already. My friend Hannah and I were doing an online chat one night. I had a glass...ummm, actually...several glasses of red wine. We got really goofy and came up with the list. I have managed to stroke a few items off."

Martin was reading the list again, the hint of a smile on his face. "Well, your secret is mine that you played hooky from Pinches, but you'll have to let me know what you did that was fun."

Pam giggled briefly. "I took myself up the CN tower. I know that sounds weird, because I've worked in the city for years, but I'd never been up it. I always thought it would be boring – just a tourist trap, you know. It was anything but. It was fantastic!"

"Good for you."

"As I said, a lot of the things are foolish clichés, but it's all just for fun. In fact, I'm doing something this weekend and I'll tell you if you promise not to repeat it in the office."

Martin gave her a 'scouts honour' salute.

"My friend Hannah and I are going skydiving." Pam was beaming.

Martin looked impressed. "Skydiving? Wow, you really are a wacko chick aren't you?"

"Hey," Pam tittered, "I thought you were on my side."

"I'm teasing. I think that's really admirable. Stupid...but admirable."

"Yeah, well my husband thinks Hannah and I are just plain stupid. He won't even come and watch." She paused. "So it's nothing you would ever do?" she asked.

Martin shook his not only his head, but his shoulders too. "I don't even like _being_ in airplanes, let alone _jumping out_ of them." He paused. "I'll help you out with anything on your list except that," he said steadily.

Pam blushed, mentally scanning through the seven items left on the list.

"Well, old man Pinches must be missing us by now," he said. "Shall we be off?"

"I guess so. Again, thanks so much for the lunch, Martin. It was marvelous."

Pam reached across for her list, but Martin grasped it tightly and pulled it away. She looked at him quizzically. He had an impish little smile. Pam withdrew her hand. Martin opened the sheet flat on the table. He let a finger rest beside one of the items: _Steal something – something fun_. Pam looked up at Martin with a shocked expression. He reached over to the side of the table, and with a long finger, gently pushed the large, painted pepper mill toward her.

Pam glanced around furtively and looked back at Martin. She vigorously shook her head. He nodded slowly. Pam bit her lip and felt a quiver in her stomach. She looked at the wooden mill. It was a thing of beauty. Martin gazed down at her purse and indicated his head toward it. He glared at her for a moment. His lips moved and she read them as he mouthed, " _Do it_."

Pam opened the zipper of the bag on her lap. Her breathing was rapid. She glanced around the room at the same time her hand reached across the table. She wrapped her fingers around the shapely mill and dragged it toward her. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest as she pulled the pepper mill below the level of the table and shoved it into her purse. _Oh my god, I've never stolen anything in my life. Someone's going to run over here and catch me_.

"Well, shall we go now?" Martin said calmly. He extended his hand and Pam clutched it as she stood up, appreciating the physical support. He kept hold of her hand as they exited the restaurant and walked along the sidewalk. Martin could tell that Pam wanted to run, but he grasped her hand firmly and forced her to walk at a normal pace. As they neared the subway entrance, Pam started making small squealing noises. Martin delighted in seeing her face light up as they headed down the escalator.

"Oh, Martin, I thought I was going to die. No, that's not right, first I thought I was going to get caught and then I thought I was going to faint – and then die," she blurted rapidly. Martin was laughing, watching Pam in full animation. "I mean, I know it might not be anything to a lot of people, but I have never stolen a thing in 49 years."

The train was in the station and the pair entered moments before the doors closed. They sat down and Pam slowly pulled the ill-gotten booty from her purse. She turned it over and over, studying it. She laughed suddenly and leaned into Martin. "I have absolutely no idea what I am going to do with this."

Martin whispered into her ear. "It doesn't matter. Put it on your mantle at home. Throw it away. _Re-gift it_ to someone. The fact that you wanted to take it – and that you took it – is what matters. I'm really happy you did that for yourself." Pam put it back in her purse. She was silent for the rest of the subway ride and wore a look of quiet contentment on her face.

Pam didn't see Martin for several hours after their return from lunch, but he poked his head in before it was time to go home. She looked up and saw him in her doorway, glancing around her office. His eyes landed on the filing cabinet in the back right corner. The pepper mill was placed near the back on the left side in a spot where he could see it, but where it might be obscured to the casual observer.

They looked at each other but didn't say anything for a minute. "There's something from earlier that I wanted to ask you about – something on your list."

"Ummm...then maybe you should close the door," she countered.

Martin turned and closed the door. "You had something on your list that seemed cryptic to me – _Meet Mulder_. When I went back to my office, I googled it and saw several references to that name, but I think I figured it out. It's a TV show, isn't it?"

Pam nodded slowly. "Yes, it's an old TV show called The X-Files. I loved it. I know it's impossible to meet a character from a TV show, but I came up with that for the list when I was chatting with Hannah...getting goofy...and I had to include it." Pam looked a little embarrassed.

"So, this guy Mulder...you think he's hot?"

Pam tittered nervously. "You could say that."

"I saw that show a few times but never really got into it. I'm not big on science fiction. I looked online and it said there were two FBI agents – a man and a woman – and they ended up having a baby and it was an alien or something."

"Well, that's near the end of the series. There's a whole mythology to it. The show has been off the air for a decade, but it has a real cult following."

"And you're one of the cultists?"

Pam struggled with a decision. Martin waited. "Okay, I'm going to tell you something, but you have to swear not to tell anyone. I haven't told anyone here in the office and none of them have found out yet."

Martin looked intrigued. "I swear on my best friend's auntie's grave," he said, holding up his hand and repeating the 'scouts honour' salute.

Pam took a deep breath. "There's something I do that I really enjoy, but I don't share it too much. Well...only with about 10,000 fans." She paused, smiling at Martin's confused look. "Have you ever heard of fanfiction?"

Martin lifted his eyebrows and stared at her smugly. "Pam, I am a _social media specialist_. I'm well aware of fanfiction. It's all over the Internet. That's where people go to fantasize about characters in TV shows and movies. Are you telling me you're a closet fanfiction reader?"

Pam shook her head. "No; not a reader. That's how I started out. Now I'm a writer," she added cautiously.

Martin scowled playfully. "So you write stories about alien babies and conspiracies and stuff?"

"I really can trust you, right?" she asked. Martin coyly shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, well, some of my stuff has overtones of that, especially some of my recent writings. But I've found that what most fans want to read – and what's most fun to write about – is about what _didn't_ happen on the show – or at least, what you were never allowed to _see_ happening."

Martin waved his hands toward himself in a 'give it to me' gesture. Pam looked toward her office door and made sure no one was standing outside.

"People want...mature...content," she said hesitantly. "The stories I write have pretty explicit material. On the show, you never really saw Mulder and Scully in bed together, but it was implied a few times – after all, she did get pregnant. I try to stick to how the characters were in the show as closely as possible, but I give the fans what they always craved – the details of Mulder and Scully between the sheets. But it's not porn. I like to think of it as erotic literature."

Pam was trying to read Martin's face for a reaction but it remained expressionless. "Do you use your own name when you're writing this stuff?"

"Oh, no. I'm not sure what the reaction would be from some people, so I use a pen name – Mulder's Woman. It's funny though, I don't mind strangers reading it...in fact, I love it. A few of my stories have had several thousand hits and I get a real thrill out of people reviewing them. I know it's called fanfiction because it's for fans of the show, but I feel like I have fans," she beamed.

Martin was staring at the pepper mill. "So, how do you come up with your ideas? I mean, this guy Mulder, do you fantasize about him?"

Martin turned his gaze back upon her. Pam felt her face flush at the directness of the question. She looked into his dark eyes and felt breathless. She opened her mouth, but before she could get a word out, Martin said, "Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow," and left her office, closing the door behind him.

Pam looked at the pepper mill and felt herself flush even more. She couldn't believe she'd told him about her Fifty List _and_ the skydiving _and_ the fanfiction. _What the hell is wrong with me? I must be having a hormone surge today. Tomorrow I'll be myself again._ She noticed it was the end of the work day and packed her bag for the commute home.

#  chapter six

Friday morning couldn't have been more different than Thursday. Pam had stumbled groggily downstairs at 6 a.m. for a bowl of cereal. She heard heavy footfalls on the stairs and cringed. It was Dylan. But instead of being surly, he had an agreeable look on his face. In fact, he seemed energetic to the point of being hyper.

"Mom, how about we make some fresh biscuits and fruit salad for everyone. I've been awake for a couple of hours. In fact, I hardly slept at all last night. I was thinking about how much fun it would be and how long it's been since you and me baked something together."

Hmmm...the return of sweet Dylan. You never know when he's going to show up.

"That sounds wonderful, honey. I'd love to do that with you."

Pam retrieved a variety of fruit from the fridge while Dylan pre-heated the oven and assembled the ingredients for biscuits. He'd been reading a lot lately about the health benefits of ancient grains and had convinced his mom to buy some spelt flour.

Dylan turned on the radio and did a little dance around the kitchen to a song by The Boss. He was still shaking his body to the beat as he measured several cups of spelt into a large bowl and started cutting in a small amount of margarine.

" _I wanna die with you Wendy on the streets tonight in an ever-lasting kiss...1-2-3-4...The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive. Everybody's out on the run tonight but there's no place left to hide...."_

Pam watched her son gyrating to the music and shaking his fists high in the air between stabs at the biscuit dough. She found herself laughing and singing along.

Pam handed him a container of buttermilk from the back of the fridge. _This has been here for ages. I hope it's still okay to use_. Dylan mixed it in.

Pam was well on her way through cubing an entire cantaloupe when Dylan turned the dough out onto a floured board, working it as gently as possible. A song by The Stones had come on the radio. Dylan swayed his hips to the music and worked silently. Pam watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying not to be too obvious. _He's so delicate with his hands. Dave could never do that_.

Dylan found his favorite cutter and set 16 perfectly-shaped biscuits onto the pan and into the oven. He jumped over and cleaned up the peels as Pam put the finishing touches on the fruit salad. Dylan was smiling. That smile put a lump in Pam's throat and made her eyes sting. _I don't see that smile often enough, but when I do, it's a beautiful thing_. She suddenly felt like hugging him, but put her hands behind her back and clasped them tightly together. She knew a hug had the potential to turn this happy domestic scene into an ugly one. But a moment later, Dylan blew her away by giving her a light-speed hug. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take the biscuits out of the oven," he said, leaping up the stairs two at a time.

"Never give up on a miracle," she whispered to herself. He was back 10 minutes later to take the perfectly golden biscuits out of the oven and set them on a rack to cool. He sat and ate some fruit salad and told his mother about a math problem he was working on. Dylan had always been fond of math. Pam figured he got that from Dave. She had barely passed math in high school. The rest of the family filtered downstairs. Dave looked at the two of them and gave Pam a "what's up?" look. Pam looked him in the eye and gave him a "hell if I know" expression. That made Dave smile, but he didn't laugh.

As usual, Dave was the last one to leave the breakfast table. He put his plate and bowl in the dishwasher, kissed her lightly and said, "Kids, huh?" They cracked up at that before going their separate ways to work.

Fridays at Pinches were either frantic, with consultants rushing to get a project to clients before the weekend, or laid back. This one was laid back. The firm had a few small projects on the go, but no huge accounts. That didn't worry Mr. Pinches. He was always optimistic and saw the slower times as an opportunity for his people to reconnect and energize. He'd spent most of the morning in the common area, chatting with people about their families and their plans for the weekend or upcoming summer holidays.

Pam could see him from her office. In her whole life, she didn't know if she'd met anyone who was such a 'people person' as Mr. Pinches. She had no desire to join the klatch of co-workers on the sofas, but it was interesting to watch. Pam saw Martin join the group for a couple of minutes, but he moved on quickly, as if putting in a necessary appearance at a family function. In a moment, he was in her doorway.

He leaned against the door. "Tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

Pam looked at him sternly. "Shhhh."

"Oh, right," he whispered, closing the door behind him and grinning. "It's a big secret."

"Let's put it this way...I don't want anyone to know in case I chicken out at the last minute."

Martin shook his head as he approached. He bent over and plunked his elbows down on her desk. He leaned in toward her and said softly, "You are not going to chicken out. You know you want to do this. Hell, maybe you even need to do this."

Pam was silent. That struck a chord somewhere. Did she really _need_ to do this? Martin was staring at her unrelentingly. _How did this suddenly get so serious?_

"Maybe I do need to do this," she replied. "Maybe I need to prove to myself that I can do something really special that not many other people ever try. Not to brag or anything. Just to tell myself that I'm not as boring as I think I am."

They were quiet for a moment. The corners of Martin's lips quirked up slightly. He reached out and squeezed her hand. "You are most definitely _not_ boring, Ms. Williams."

Pam swallowed hard. She found it hard to look away from his eyes, but knew she probably should be looking almost anywhere else. They seemed lighter than they had before. Martin's gaze softened. Pam tore her eyes away and looked across the room. He still had his hand on hers and she withdrew it slowly, standing up behind her desk, causing him to also rise.

"So, Pam, what time do you do this thing?"

Pam felt a renewed sense of excitement about her adventure and the chance to talk about it. "I'm meeting my friend Hannah there at 9 a.m. It's at this place called Skydive City, near Orangeville. They put you through this course all morning – I guess teaching you the best ways not to die – and then you have lunch. They start taking people up in groups right after lunch." She paused. "Actually, I wonder about the wisdom of taking people up _after_ they eat. Maybe's it's to drag out the suspense. So anyway, by about 2 p.m. tomorrow you can think about me being either alive and elated, with one more item crossed off my list...or quite dead."

"I'm sure you're going to be fine," he said confidently.

"And what do you have planned for the weekend, Mr. Campbell?"

Martin shrugged. "Me? I don't know. Maybe catch up on some reading. I have the best of intentions to renovate the deck behind my house this year. Mostly, I want to spend some quality time with the little blond love of my life."

"Sounds nice. Give Amber a hug for me."

Martin nodded and left her office. Pam didn't see him again that day.

Pam was up earlier than usual on Saturday. She needed to get to the skydiving school by 9 a.m. and had hardly slept the night before. After a quick shower, she ate a light breakfast and went back to the bedroom. "Dave, I'm going now. I'm so fired up!"

She kissed him on the cheek and realized he was still half asleep. "Have a good time. Hope you live," he mumbled into the pillow. Pam smacked him very lightly on the head and left to hop into the car. The drive was easy and she listened to a classic rock station on the radio all the way there.

When she arrived, she saw Hannah's car already in the parking lot. _Imagine how early she must have gotten up to get here by 9. She must really be motivated!_ As Pam parked, Hannah was already running over, barely letting Pam get out of the car before hugging her excitedly.

"Do you believe what we're about to do?"

Pam shook her head. "Not really. Ask me when it's over."

The friends spent the morning in a thoroughly intensive training program. A group of 20 participants rehearsed the skills they'd need for a safe experience. Both women were surprised how much there was to it, from arching and counting until the tether pulled open their main parachute, to manipulating the chute to a (hopefully) gentle landing. They were both a little nervous when the instructor went over the "what to do in the unlikely event that something goes wrong" part. Neither one of them wanted to even think about that.

After a simple lunch of sandwiches and cold beverages, it was time to suit up and enter the plane. Pam and Hannah managed to get in the first group of five to go up. "I'm not sure what I think about going up first, but I guess that means it will be over with sooner," said Pam.

Hannah beamed as she suited up. "Oh, Pam, stop worrying. You're going to be fine. Imagine the memory this is going to make!"

They climbed on board the small airplane and everyone watched as the altimeter inched higher. Once it hit 3,000 feet, that was it – it would be time to jump. Pam stared out the window anxiously. She was third in line to jump, behind a middle-aged man and Hannah. She looked at the tether attaching her to the inside of the airplane for about the tenth time. _Please pull my parachute open. Please, please, please. I don't want to have to even look for a ripcord_.

A cheer went up as Pam was praying to her tether. The plane had reached 3,000 feet and the side door opened, letting in a blast of icy air. The middle-aged guy in front looked like he was about to puke. Hannah looked like her face was going to burst open from grinning so much. Pam's jaw felt tight and she was suddenly sweating inside the heavy suit and helmet.

"Okay," the instructor called out. "You're going to come up here in order and crouch like you learned in ground training. When I tap you on the back and say 'Go,' you push out slightly and spread into your arch – arms and legs back. You'll be directed on your headsets where to steer."

Oh my god, this is not going to work. I cannot do this.

Pam watched the first jumper position himself into place. After checking his form, the instructor tapped him on the back and said "Go!"

Nothing happened. The man was frozen in place. _This isn't good. No, no, no, this is definitely not good_. The instructor barely skipped a beat. She tapped him on the back and said "Go" again. He was still frozen. _Oh crap, it must really be scary. If he can't do it, I can't do it_.

"Look at me," she heard the instructor say firmly. "Nod your head." The man did as instructed. "Okay, then – in position." He turned back and set himself in the ready position. The instructor tapped him on the back, said "Go" – and he went. _He did it. He did it. He did it. Oh my god, he did it!_

The instructor turned to Hannah, inviting her into the jump zone. Hannah grinned back at Pam. Ten seconds later, the instructor tapped Hannah on the back and said "Go." There wasn't even a second of hesitation – Hannah was out!

"Holy crap, this is really happening, isn't it?" she said to the instructor, who smiled and motioned for her to come forward. Pam looked out the open maw of the craft. She could see ground below but it looked fuzzy through her goggles. The instructor nodded to her. Pam hesitated for a moment but nodded back. She took her jump position. The instructor tapped her on the back and said "Go." Later, she would say she wasn't even aware of jumping. She just leaned forward and out she went.

The sensation was bizarre – not one of fear, as she had expected, but more of shock. It took her a few seconds to remember to do the arch, but halfway through doing it, she felt a tremendous jerk as if she was being pulled backward. She looked up and gasped at the most relieving sight she had ever witnessed. _It's opening. Oh, holy cow, it's opening. Thank you, thank you, thank you!_ Pam watched in awe as the purple parachute bloomed into life above her. It was much larger than she had expected.

She heard a voice in her headset. "Good jump, number three. Your chute looks great. Enjoy yourself for a moment while I check in with the other jumpers.

Pam did just that. She looked up, down and around and enjoyed herself. "This doesn't feel like falling at all. This feels like floating." She gazed below to the right and saw a huge yellow chute. _That's Hannah_. The chute was tilting a little and she could see Hannah was steering to the north.

It was much quieter than Pam would have imagined. It felt great to be away from the noise of the aircraft. The only sound was a flapping and fluttering from the magnificent piece of silky purple fabric above her. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes. Pam felt a sense of euphoria.

The coach spoke into her headset again. "Hello, number three. Can you hear me?" Pam answered with a quick "Yes" and the coach instructed her to pull on the cord to turn right. Pam grabbed the handle and pulled. She squealed as the chute tilted, pulling her sideways along with it. "Okay," she heard. "You can stop your turn and come in directly on that path. Remember to bend your knees before you touch down. I'm off to talk to the jumper behind you, number three. Have a nice landing."

Pam heard the speaker squawk out and realized she was on her own. She could see the skydive complex in the distance and that she was heading straight for it. The ground seemed much closer now and seemed to be gradually coming up to meet her. She spent her last couple of minutes in the air taking in every sight and sensation, committing them to memory so she could enjoy them later.

The touchdown seemed almost anticlimactic. Pam was in the air and then she simply wasn't. She landed on the soft strip of sand at the complex with knees nicely bent. The chute threatened to pull her backward, but she managed not to fall on her butt. A staff member came running over and wordlessly detached the parachute from her suit, scurrying off to fold it up for future daredevils.

Pam saw Hannah waiting on the sidelines and strolled over feeling prouder than she ever had before. _It feels like I've taken a happy pill_. Her heart was still pounding, but it was from delight rather than fear. Hannah had taken off her helmet. Her long, wavy blond hair fell to her waist and cascaded around her in all directions. She looked like a wild woman as she came running over to Pam at full tilt.

Hannah wrapped her arms around Pam and hugged her fiercely. "Wasn't that feral? Wasn't that the most awesome thing ever?" she screamed. Pam grinned and nodded. Hannah wrapped her arm around Pam's waist and leaned into her laughing as they walked to the hut to return their colourful jumpsuits. Pam was happy to strip out of her purple suit. She was sweating heavily underneath. Her hair was sticking to her head after she took off the helmet and she bent over to rub it vigorously, hoping the layers would somehow fall into place.

The teacher handed them each a paper scroll wrapped with a red ribbon. "Congratulations, ladies. You're free to go and boast to all your friends now. You're part of an elite group. You should be proud of yourselves." Both women beamed as they read their certificate. Hannah read hers aloud.

"Listen to this, Pam. 'This certifies that Hannah Holbrook had the courage and guts to parachute out of an airplane at Skydive City. We celebrate this first-jumper's bravery in meeting this challenge and hope you spread the word of your accomplishment with pride.' It's signed and dated on the bottom by the president of the school."

Pam regarded her certificate with a shrewd eye. "Hmmm...I'm not sure if this is really congratulations or a marketing ploy to goad other people into doing this, but in any case, it's going to be framed and placed prominently on a wall at home."

Hannah leaned into her and giggled again as they turned toward the parking lot. Pam was admiring her certificate when Hannah grabbed her by the arm and stopped her. Pam looked at her friend and noticed she was gazing into the distance, a stunned expression on her face. She followed the direction of Hannah's gaze. Pam's breath hitched in her throat.

" _Who...is...that_?" Hannah gasped.

He stood half way across the parking lot, leaning against the rear of a dark blue Audi with a dog sitting prettily at his feet. Pam felt frozen. This was the first time she'd seen him in anything other than a suit and one of his outrageous ties. Today, he was wearing faded blue jeans, grey running shoes and a black T-shirt – a very tight black T-shirt. His eyes were fixed on her, his expression unreadable.

#  chapter seven

Hannah tugged on Pam's sleeve. "I think that drop-dead gorgeous guy is looking right at you. Do you know him?"

Pam took a breath. "Yes, I know him. That's somebody from work."

Hannah stared at her. "Why have I never heard of this _somebody_ before?"

Pam tried her best to look annoyed. "Because there's nothing to tell, that's why. He's...he's just one of the new consultants at Pinches," she sputtered.

Hannah looked at him and snorted derisively. " _Yeah...right_."

Martin started to walk toward the women, the dog heeling perfectly at his left side. He came to within a few feet of them, a smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. "Hi, Pam. You did it! I knew you could."

He turned to her friend and said, "You must be Hannah. Congratulations! I can't even imagine doing what you did. You must be very brave – and you must be a very good friend too."

Martin had turned on his best smile and Pam could sense Hannah going weak at the knees. Hannah was grinning at him from ear to ear. _How does he have such an immediate effect on women? He's good looking, but so are a lot of men...and I've never seen Hannah melt like this in front of anyone before._

"Martin," said Pam, "I thought you said you weren't interested in this kind of thing."

He shook his head. "You misquote me, ma'am. What I said is that I had no interest in jumping out of an airplane. I never said that I didn't want to see _you_ do it."

Hannah giggled, which made Pam and Martin laugh too. That got the dog worked up, and she wrapped herself around Pam's legs. Pam crouched down and ran her hands through the Golden's long coat. "Hi, Amber, I'm so pleased to meet you. You really are a very beautiful blond. Martin's lucky to have you."

Hannah looked quizzically at Pam and Martin. "I'll see you in a few minutes, Pam. I need to use the washroom before heading home," she said, walking away quickly.

Pam continued to play with Amber, looking up at Martin. "Really, Martin; what _are_ you doing here?"

He shrugged. "I told you I wanted to spend some quality time with my best girl this weekend," scratching Amber behind her ear. "This seemed like a nice drive."

"So...you saw me jump?"

Martin nodded. "I was stopped out on the road. After the airplane went up, I drove in here and asked one of the guys what colour your parachute was, so I could watch you. It was amazing. I saw these little blobs falling out of the plane and a few seconds later, this amazing purple parachute was billowing out. How did you manage to get a purple parachute? That's your favourite colour, right?"

Still running her hands through Amber's abundant fur, Pam furrowed her brow and looked up. "First of all, yes, purple is my favourite colour, although I have no idea how you'd know that. Secondly, for once in my life I was at the front of the line and chose purple. I thought it would make a nice contrast to the sky above me."

She gave Amber one more rub and stood up. The after effects of the jump abruptly overwhelmed her and her face was vibrant and animated. "And you know what...it was glorious! I looked up and saw this big purple canopy above me. It was like floating rather than falling." Martin was fascinated by the blaze in Pam's eyes and the vibrant tone of her voice. He'd never seen her this fired up at work. "Oh, Martin, it was like nothing I've ever felt before. I still feel like I'm glowing all over. It was out-of-this-world magnificent!" she enthused.

All of a sudden, she didn't care _why_ Martin was there. She was simply happy to have someone to share her joy with. Hannah strolled back from the bathroom, never taking her eyes off Martin. "Well, that's one more to strike off your Fifty List, huh friend?" she said. Hannah hastily cringed. "Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to say that in front of your guest. I know it's a secret."

Martin looked at Pam quickly and then back at Hannah. "Fifty list? What the heck is that?"

"Oh, geez. I shouldn't have said anything. Let's just say it's a _woman thing_ ," Hannah said coquettishly. "Probably the less you know about it, the better," she teased.

Martin shrugged. "Probably."

Hannah turned to Pam. "Well, darling, what can I say? This was a thrill of a lifetime and I owe it all to you." She gave Pam a prolonged hug and kissed her on the cheek. "Let's do a chat tonight, okay? Sort of a debrief. Would that be fun?"

"Sure. Sounds good," said Pam, worming her way out of Hannah's arms.

"Well, it's been nice to meet you, Martin." He nodded silently and extended his hand. "Oh, come on," she added, throwing her arms around him, kissing his cheek several times and holding on tightly. Martin gave Pam a 'WTF?' look, as he was being squeezed half to death. Pam sucked in a smile.

Hannah eventually released Martin. "I'm off, guys. It's a long way back to London. But that's okay; I have lots of fresh new memories to meditate on during the drive." She turned to Pam, "Love ya, you lovely lady."

"Love ya back. Have a safe drive." They watched as Hannah crossed the small lot and clambered into a bright yellow Smart Car. She wove goodbye all the way down the laneway, and as she turned onto the sideroad, she honked her horn on and off until they could no longer hear it. Martin turned to Pam. "Your friend, she's...ummm..." "Nuts?" Pam concluded. He laughed. "No, I wasn't going to say that. But maybe a little quirky – and certainly very affectionate."

"That's funny...you described Hannah to a T."

Amber gave a little whine and looked up at her master. "Shhh, girl, it's alright, we're going soon."

"Is she bored?"

"No, but she has a good idea where I'm going to take her. We've been there before. There's a huge dog park about 20 minutes east of here. It always has tons of dogs and Amber has a great time romping. Don't you girl?" He vigorously rubbed his hand across her back.

"Hey!" he said abruptly. "How about you come with us? That's on your way home, isn't it?"

"East? Well east and south, but I guess it could be."

"Oh, c'mon. You said you love dogs. You'd love this place."

Pam sighed and reached out to give Amber a gentle pat. "This day is one big adventure after another for me, Amber."

"All right! Follow me and we'll take this little lady for a romp with her friends."

They headed to their cars and pulled out of the skydive compound on their way to the dog park. A few minutes later, Pam was wondering what the heck she was doing, but she was in such a good mood, she decided to simply crank up the radio and enjoy the drive.

The two cars pulled into the parking lot and joined a couple of dozen other vehicles. Pam met Martin and Amber at the entrance gate. Amber was not only wagging her tail, she was wagging her entire body and whining loudly. They stepped into an enclosure, where Martin removed her leash. When he opened the second gate, she bolted out and ran at full speed across the field to the other dogs.

"Wow, can she run! What an energetic dog!" Pam exclaimed.

"I think that's part of the reason why she ended up as a rescue dog. Somebody didn't know how big she would get and the level of energy she would have. They probably couldn't handle it," said Martin, watching her gallop alongside a Chocolate Lab.

"Well then, she's lucky to have you. You obviously care for her very much," she said, as they sat on a bench, drinking in the sun.

Martin frowned slightly. He had that sad, faraway look she'd seen so many times before.

"She only needs love. She sort of fills a gap in my life." He paused. "I got her not too long after my parents died. Caring for her gave me something to live for and helped me deal with everything."

"Oh, my. I'm sorry. What happened?"

"Car accident three years ago. It was a pile-up on Highway 401 in Toronto. They were killed instantly, which I suppose is the only thing I found remotely comforting about the whole thing."

Pam was quiet for a minute. "That must have been very difficult. Did your parents live in the city?"

Martin nodded. "Dad had a fairly successful real estate agency. Mom was a pediatrician. I was an only child, so I don't really have any family left. Amber's it, I guess."

Pam watched the dogs running across the field like schools of fish, and their people walking about or standing in small groups. "She's beautiful, Martin. I can see how you fell in love with her."

The sad look left Martin's face. "Yeah, as long as she burns off her energy, she's a great dog. Too bad you can't have a dog. They're great to have around in your up moments and your down ones. This is the perfect place to see the variety of canines."

Martin pointed out the diverse breeds and spoke knowledgeably about their attributes and temperaments. They spent a half hour watching the dogs play and trying to figure out who was the fastest. Pam was particularly taken with a tall, black Great Dane. Martin told her that Dane owners have to be careful about their legs. "Great Dane puppies shouldn't spend much time on solid floors. They need a textured surface to grip with their toes. It helps the ligaments and muscles in their legs develop properly." Pam was impressed with how much he knew about dogs.

"How do you know so much?" she asked.

Martin stretched back on the bench, hands folded behind his head. "I read," he sighed. "I spend most of my time reading anything and everything."

Pam looked at him sideways. "Surely you do more than read. You're a very attractive man. You must have a girlfriend, don't you? I've seen how the women at work fawn all over you – and you must have noticed that Hannah pretty much drooled on you at the skydiving complex."

Martin took a moment to respond and continued watching Amber while he spoke. "Nope. I'm unattached...and there's nothing less attractive to me than women who make complete asses of themselves over the way someone looks. I can't help the way I look any more than Amber over there can help the way she looks." Amber must have heard her name, because she turned her head, came galloping over and crashed into Martin's legs. "Hey, girl, you having fun?" Martin slapped her sides firmly and she pushed her body into him. "The older I get, the less I care about how people look. What I find attractive is some sort of connection I can feel – a spark, a spirit, someone I can talk to and feel comfortable around." He nuzzled his nose playfully into his dog's soft ear. "Someone like Amber, maybe!"

Amber turned to Pam and shoved her head into hand in a plea to be petted. "So, what you're saying is, you'd like to meet a really sweet bitch?" That got the two of them reeling.

"Well, Amber, had enough? Let's get your leash back on and head home," said Martin.

Pam and Martin walked back to the parking lot. Pam gave Amber one last good rub before the dog hopped into the car.

"Did you enjoy the dog park?" Martin asked Pam.

"I really did. It was a nice transition between skydiving and home."

Martin gazed at her thoughtfully. "I want you to know how much I truly respect what you did today. You took a risk, not only physically, but emotionally too. You should be proud of that." He paused. "I know I'm proud of you."

Pam beamed. "Thanks, Martin. That means a lot."

"See you Monday," he said, getting into his car.

Pam nodded and waved to the departing Audi. She got into her car and put the key into the ignition. She was about to turn it, but hesitated, and her hand slowly landed in her lap. Pam looked to the right at the dogs romping and people clustered together. Everyone looked so happy. Pam flashed back to the way Martin's face lit up when Amber came galloping toward him. She smiled, more with her eyes than anything else. She looked back at the key. Pam started the ignition and turned the radio on again for the long ride home.

Pam walked into the house to the smell of pizza. Dave had ordered it for the kids and they had just finished, both heading to their rooms to do whatever teenagers do.

"Hi, hon. Ya lived, huh?" Dave shouted from the kitchen. "I did indeed," she shouted back as she put away her shoes and jacket. She went into the kitchen and found Dave tidying up. She came up behind him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

"So, how was it?"

"Oh, Dave, you wouldn't have believed it. It was a total thrill. It was such an adventure and it gave me a buzz I'd never felt before." They sat at the table and she started relaying the details of the day, from the ground training to the anticipation in the airplane. Dave started out attentive and smiling, but as Pam talked, she noticed him look at the clock several times.

"Is there somewhere you have to go?" she finally asked.

"Oh, uh, well, you see, the Leafs made it into the playoffs. They're about to drop the puck in about five minutes, so hurry up and tell me the rest of your story before it starts." Pam stared at her husband. "Never mind," she sighed. "I can tell you some other time."

"Really?" Dave said, jumping up to grab a beer out of the fridge. "Because you know this doesn't happen very often. Can you imagine the Leafs in the finals? Man, that would be something," he enthused, heading downstairs to the TV in the rec room.

Pam sat at the table for a minute and then got up to eat a slice of cold pizza. She suddenly felt very tired and headed upstairs. She was asleep moments after lying down and didn't hear Dave come to bed a couple of hours later. The Leafs lost – and they never did make it to the finals that spring.

Pam woke up the next morning to the phone ringing. "Dave," she mumbled, "can you get it?" Her request was met by silence and another ring of the phone. "Dave?" She glanced over and saw the other side of the bed was empty. _Oh yeah, he's going golfing this morning_. Wearily, she extended an arm and grabbed the receiver, pulling it under her ear on the pillow and slurred, "Hello."

"Oh no! Did I wake you up?"

Pam sighed and squinted at the clock – it said 10:17 a.m. She took a moment to respond. "Well, what you think, dearie?" she said, the sarcasm dripping freely.

"Sorry," said Hannah, but she was giggling. "I didn't think you'd still be asleep. I couldn't sleep all night. I was still so jazzed."

"Hmmmm.....not me. I hit the pillow and passed right out. I guess our little adventure took a lot out of me."

The line was silent for at least 20 seconds – an eternity. "Hannah? You still there?"

"Uh-huh. I guess that's why I didn't see you on chat last night. I must have checked a dozen times."

Pam grimaced, shoving her face further into the pillow. "Oh, geez...sorry Hannah. I forgot all about our 'debrief.' I guess my mind was too full of everything that happened."

Pam listened to another lengthy pause. That was very unlike Hannah. She was usually a non-stop chatterbox and Pam sometimes had a hard time getting a word in edgewise.

"Uh-huh. And what _did_ happen, Pam?"

Pam furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

Hannah sighed impatiently. "Him! I mean him. What happened with you and _him_?"

Pam closed her eyes tightly. "Hannah, he's just a guy from the office."

Pam heard the same derisive snort she'd heard the day before. "Oh, get off it, Pam. I saw the way he looked at you. That is not just _some guy_ from the office. _Some guy from the office_ wouldn't spend two hours driving out of the city to see you fall from an airplane unless he cared about you a whole lot. Spill, girl...what's going on?"

Pam was used to Hannah's inquisitions, but this line of questioning was making her feel decidedly uncomfortable. "Hannah, you saw his dog. He wanted to take her to a dog park nearby and so he thought he'd stop and watch my jump."

Hannah snorted again, but with a bit more humour this time. "And Pam, my lovie, how did this dear fellow even know about your jump?"

Hannah had her there. "Well, I guess it sort of slipped out last week when we were having lunch."

"Lunch? Lunch in the office, out-of-a-paper-bag lunch, or lunch-in-a-cozy-restaurant lunch?"

Pam knew Hannah was never going to let up and resigned herself to telling her everything – well, maybe almost everything. "Okay. Here's the story. Martin took me out to this restaurant in Greektown, on the Danforth. We got to talking about what we like to do for fun, and I told him about the skydiving."

Hannah gasped. "Did you tell him _why_ you were doing the skydiving?" Hannah paused and quickly gasped again. "You told him about your Fifty List, didn't you?"

Pam's silence was all the response Hannah needed. "Oh, Pam, that's huge! You haven't even shared that list with Dave. And Martin pretended not to know anything about it yesterday. What possessed you to tell him?"

"I'm not sure. We've been working together a lot and talking about all sorts of stuff. He's very nice and smart and really good to work with. I guess he sort of weaseled it out of me."

"Nice. Smart. Good to work with," Hannah repeated mockingly. "You left out a few facts, Pam. He's also ultra hot and completely adorable. Don't tell me that doesn't have anything to do with it. You could see his six-pack right through that T-shirt he was wearing! And did you see the tight little ass packed into those jeans? Mama! Go ahead and tell me that you _don't_ think he's sizzling hot. And don't lie. I'll hear it in your voice."

Pam was glad Hannah couldn't see her face. It was getting flushed. She exhaled slowly before answering. "Yes, Hannah, I agree, he _is_ very good looking. I'm sure all the women in my office think he's sex on a stick. I'm trying really hard not to see him that way, but I'll admit, that's a challenge."

"The plot thickens," Hannah giggled.

Pam grabbed Dave's pillow and propped it up on top of hers. "Look, it's not that I plan to do anything about it, but sure I think he's sexy. Who wouldn't? But Hannah, I have never stepped outside my marriage. I haven't even kissed another man on the lips since before I married Dave."

"I bet he wouldn't stop you if you tried," Hannah teased. "Is he married?"

"No, he's all alone. He lives with his dog. He doesn't even have any family. His parents died a few years back and he was their only child."

"They would have left everything to him, then. What did they do?"

"Oh, let's see. His father had a real estate business and his mother was a doctor."

Hannah whistled through her teeth. "So he's rich, then?"

Pam chuckled at her friend's reaction. "Well, I hadn't really thought about it much, but yes, I suppose he must have inherited a fair bit of money. He has a house in Greektown."

"Wow. Smart, nice, rich, stable – and probably not gay. Maybe I should give him a call!"

"Hahaha...Hannah, need I remind you that for all intents and purposes, you are a married woman? Maybe not legally, but spiritually, as you've told me many times. And that man of yours isn't exactly ugly. I've seen him in a swimsuit, remember? Raj is very, very sexy. Besides, I'm not quite sure Martin could handle someone quite as – quirky – as you."

"Maybe you're right," she cracked. "But I bet he'd be attracted to someone smart and sexy like you. In fact, I wonder if he has more feelings for than you think he does. After all, that's a long way to come to take your dog for a walk."

"You don't know how much he loves that dog," Pam countered, yawning. "Another thing. I think he's carrying around some real emotional baggage about something. He seems so sad and distant at times."

"Sounds like you know him fairly well," said Hannah. "By the way, this lunch you two had...did you by any chance tell your husband about it?"

Pam felt a small shiver. _You nosy little bitch. Of course I didn't tell him. I was about to. Then I thought about the pepper mill. I don't really have to tell Dave about every single little thing I do, do I? And I just decided, I'm not telling you about the dog park either_.

"No. But that doesn't mean anything. I don't tell Dave about a lot of things that go on at work."

"This wasn't work. This was play," Hannah ribbed.

"Fine, fine, if it makes you happy to think of it that way," she said, yawning again. "Look, I'm still really sleepy and this is the only day I'll get to sleep in this weekend, so do you mind if I cut out now and get a bit more shut-eye before Dave comes home from golfing?"

"Oh, sure babe. I never meant to wake you. We'll catch up more on chat later in the week, okay?"

"That sounds nice, Hannah. Have a good day, okay?"

"You too. And you have a nice sleep. Hope you have some pleasant dreams." She paused, giggling. "Actually, hope you have some _really hot_ dreams."

Pam smiled and shook her head, a bit annoyed. "Goodbye, Hannah." Her friend's giggling continued as she hung up the phone.

#  chapter eight

Monday morning dawned beautifully. At 5 a.m., Pam was awoken by birds singing, screeching and squawking. The spring sun seemed to have roused every bird on the planet. The weather was warm and Pam chose an above-the-knee skirt in a pastel yellow and a long, light blue T-shirt as a topper. She admired the greening of the trees during her commute and made a mental note to take some lunchtime walks during the week.

The moment she stepped off the elevator, the office seemed abuzz with activity. She stopped at Beverly's desk to say hello and heard the news. "We got a big account," Beverly said hurriedly. "Mr. Pinches sent around an e-mail about it early this morning. It's a new footwear company that wants to piggy-back on the success of that line of women's wear you did the branding campaign on. Isn't that fantastic?"

"Yes, it's wonderful," said Pam, walking toward her office. After settling in, Pam checked her e-mail and saw the message from Mr. Pinches that Beverly was raving about. It was the standard, "We've got a new client and let's all pull together" e-mail. Pam scanned it, but stopped dead right in the middle of the message.

"I give much of the credit for landing this important client to Pam Williams, who conceived and co-ordinated a very successful branding campaign for Empowera Athletic. The new account, Brown Shoes, is their new partner and was very impressed with the work from our team. As a result, I am appointing Ms. Williams as team leader on this project. Any and all communications will require her approval before moving on to the next stage..."

The e-mail continued about various details of the account, but they didn't quite register.

_Holy crap...team leader. I've never been team leader before. This is amazing. This is fantastic!_ Pam stared at the computer and felt a chill start at the back of her neck. _No, no; this isn't good. This is terrifying. All those people out there. They'll all be relying on me. What the hell am I getting myself into_?

Precisely at that moment, Martin stopped at Pam's door expecting to see her enthralled. What he saw instead was a woman who looked panic-stricken and stunned. "Pam?" He walked toward her desk. "Pam, what's up? What's wrong?" he asked, crouching beside her chair and putting an arm around her upper back.

Pam gave him a bewildered look, as if she hadn't seen him come into her office. She seemed to stare right through him for a moment. "Martin, did you read your e-mail this morning?" Martin nodded. "Pinches wants to make me _team leader_. At first I was thrilled, but now it seems like too much. I don't think I can do this."

Martin looked her in the eye and was briefly silent. Then he chuckled quietly.

"What are you laughing about?"

"You!" he said emphatically. "I watched you jump out of an airplane less than 48 hours ago. It was one of the most spectacularly brave acts I've ever witnessed. You want to tell me you can't handle co-ordinating a project for that bunch of goombas out there?"

Pam looked out her office window into the common area and saw Kenny bite into a jelly donut. Red goo slipped down his chin onto his white shirt. She began to chuckle softly. She broke out into laughter and ended up with tears streaming down her face. Martin rubbed his hand across her back.

"You're really worked up, aren't you?" Pam looked at him with a bewildering mixture of fear and glee. Still crouching, Martin swung her chair around until she was facing him directly and set his hands on top of her knees. "Hey, Pam; I know you can do this. You can do _anything_ and you know it." Pam started to calm and looked at him steadily. He reached up and touched her cheek, wiping a tear off with his thumb. He slowly brought his hand to his own face and slid his wet thumb across his lips. Pam's eyes flew wide.

Martin rested both hands atop her knees. He was tall enough that, even crouching, he was almost at eye level with her. She sat mesmerized as Martin rubbed his lips together and ran his tongue between them. Pam felt the heat of his hands through her pantyhose. His fingers fanned in and out across the tops of her legs. She sat motionless, her eyes fixed on his.

Pam dropped her gaze to his fingers, which were now trailing small, delicate circles on her legs. Other than that movement, Martin was completely still. When she looked back at his eyes, they seemed to be all pupil. Martin's breathing was very slow, but also very audible. His jaw was set and she noticed his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. Pam's cheeks felt hot.

Pam and Martin startled at the sound of a crash in the outer office. "Oh, shit!" someone cried loudly. They both turned and saw Kenny picking up pieces of a broken coffee mug off the tile floor. The coffee had splattered onto his pant legs.

Martin turned and looked at Pam again briefly before swiftly standing up and taking a step backward. A commotion started in the outer office, as people came over to see what had happened. Pam and Martin looked at each other silently for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Martin asked softly. Pam nodded and wiped her eyes. "Yes. At least, I will be. I'll be fine."

Martin smiled and shook his head. "No. You'll be better than fine. Pinches chose the right person. You'll be fantastic."

"Thank you, Martin," she said softly. He nodded and went back to his office.

Pam had a long meeting with Pinches that afternoon to discuss his preliminary ideas for the Brown Shoes campaign, which he expected to be brief but intense. She thanked him sincerely for his faith in her and said she hoped she would live up to his expectations. Pinches laughed and said he felt nothing but confidence about putting her in charge.

The next morning, she had meetings with several consultants about their ideas for the account. Pam still felt a little uneasy about her new position, but it was also invigorating.

It was another beautiful spring day. Late morning, she stopped by Martin's office. He looked out from behind his computer.

"Hi Martin."

"Hey, Pam."

"Martin, it's such a nice day. Do you want to take a walk by the bluffs?"

"Sure. That sounds great. You want to go out around 12:30?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

When Martin arrived at Pam's office, they talked about how hot it seemed for early June. They left their jackets behind and walked out of the office building. "If this keeps up, it's going to be a sizzling summer," Pam remarked.

"Fine with me – I love the heat," said Martin. "Hey, you want to go down that little path beside the bluffs? It's really pretty at the bottom. Of course, that means we have to climb back up."

"Sounds good to me. I wore my walking shoes."

Fifteen minutes later, the pair was walking down the path toward the lake. It wasn't that far, but it was steep here and there. Martin put out his hands for Pam to grasp on the final part of the descent, which required a little jump onto some sand. She landed solidly, thinking about what had transpired between them in her office the day before.

"Not quite the jump you made the other day, but quite graceful," Martin teased.

They ambled along the boardwalk, talking about a wide variety of topics, including the new account, the places in the city where Martin had taken Amber, and how both of them would like to be better gardeners.

Finishing a loop of the boardwalk, they looked up. "That is going to be quite a climb," Pam murmured. "What goes down must come up," Martin joked. "Let's get started."

They clambered back up the path, stopping twice on the way to admire the view behind them and catch their breath. Martin climbed with ease but Pam was struggling. "C'mon, Pam, you can do this," he said. "You're stronger than you know." She was panting by the time she reached the top. The apple tree she'd noticed a couple of weeks ago was now in full blossom and its fragrance filled Pam's nose as she gasped for air.

"You're a jogger, Martin, but I'm afraid I'm just a sweaty old broad who's out of shape," she gasped, hanging over the railing.

Martin joined her in relaxing on the railing. "Hey, don't ever talk about yourself that way. You're nowhere near old and you're so beautiful – even when you're sweating – maybe especially when you're sweating. You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met." He gazed at her, reached out, picked up a long tendril of hair that had drooped over her eye and draped it over her shoulder. "Your hair is so soft," he whispered.

Pam knew she was winded, but also wasn't quite sure she was breathing. She felt a flush in her face that probably wasn't from the climb. She was staring into captivating dark hazel eyes with large pupils and long lashes and couldn't seem to look away. _Oh, you really shouldn't be doing this. Weren't you telling Hannah yesterday that you were trying to be good?_ Pam wasn't sure who edged closer first. She felt a hand graze her arm and slide around her back and found herself mirroring the movement.

She felt the heat of his body before his chest touched hers. _There's still time to stop this. You're a middle-aged, married woman. You can stop this. But...my god...does he ever smell good!_ Despite the conflicted conversation going on in Pam's head, they were pulling each other closer. She was so close to his mouth that she could feel his breath on her face. She closed her eyes and drank in the warm smell of him.

Her eyelids fluttered as he traced his hand up her back and onto her neck, lingering there before tangling his fingers in her hair. At the first brush of his lips, Pam felt an involuntary shiver and gave up on any resistance. There's no way I could stop this if I tried. Martin moved his lips to the edge of Pam's mouth and down the side of her throat, inhaling deeply. Pam's heart was racing and she could swear she could hear it. Her hands crept up Martin's body and to the sides of his head.

Martin pulled back slightly and met Pam eye to eye. There was so much in his head, so many words, but they were swirling and dancing and not making much sense. Pam ran her fingers through Martin's thick, dark hair and pulled him in. In that moment, there was no holding back; no need to hide anything. Their mouths crushed together in a hungry kiss, lips parting and tongues probing. Martin explored Pam's lips from every angle, gliding his mouth around smoothly to taste every corner of hers. He could feel himself growing hard, but some part of his brain mused that just kissing this woman was enough to propel him into a heavenly place.

Martin's hands ran down her back and slowly crept south. He fondled her ass gently. Pam felt heat surge down the backs of her legs. Martin kept his left hand on her bottom and slid his right around the side of her hip. He slowly migrated his hand upward until it was lightly cupping her left breast. Pam shivered as he fanned his fingers in and out, just as he had done on her knee the day before. She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pushed her lips harder into his. They were both starting to get dizzy.

Their lips finally parted. Martin pulled back to see her face fully. Her expression was a jumbled mix of lust and fear. They were both still breathing heavily, but were otherwise motionless. Martin wrapped his arms around her back and rested his forehead on hers. He felt the need to say something.

"I guess I'm just turned on by hot chicks who steal and jump out of perfectly good airplanes."

Very slowly, Pam started to smile. "You always know exactly what to say, don't you?" She pulled her head back and fixed her eyes on him. "I'm not sure this was a good idea." She paused. "But I do know I enjoyed it," she said shyly.

He leaned in to her ear and whispered. "That makes me happy."

They let each other go, and in doing so, felt their first moment of awkwardness. "Well, this is interesting," Pam finally stammered.

Martin gazed out at the lake and Pam followed suit. After a minute, she spoke almost inaudibly. "What now?"

Martin sighed and turned to her. "Now? Now we go back to the office. We work together. We share a nice little secret that no one else knows."

Oh, no, not that smile. You can't smile at me like that or I'll shove you down onto this grass right here and now and not get off you until I'm good and satisfied.

Pam closed her eyes hard and took a few deep breaths. When she opened them, the smile was still there, but she was better prepared to deal with it.

"Okay," she said. "That sounds fair. Although you and I both know that we'll never look at each other quite the same again. This _will_ change things."

Martin leered at her. "I'm counting on it." Pam gulped. Martin saw her reaction and immediately tried to lighten the mood. "C'mon, Pammy, let's get back to the office and burn off all this energy to make old man Pinches a million bucks."

She glared at him. " _Pammy_?"

"What...you don't like that? Give me time...I'll come up with something else. Superpam? How about Pam-a-lama-ding-dong?" Martin made a goofy face, which made Pam feel more comfortable.

They turned and started walking back toward Pinches Public Relations.

#  chapter nine

Pam enjoyed being lead on the Brown Shoes account more than she imagined she would. Martin was right – she _could_ do this. In fact, she excelled at it. People from every facet of the office came to her to consult about branding, advertising, budgeting and even billing. Pam used Mr. Pinches as her role model, taking control of the helm, but letting people come up with their own ideas and shine in their individual areas of expertise.

She met with Martin several times about social media marketing. He had some great ideas for capturing a variety of demographics through something he called "targeted Web saturation." He really was very brilliant, she realized. Working with him after their tryst in the park was challenging at first. She made sure to sit well away from him the first couple of times they met. But later in the week, she found herself much more at ease around him. He showed his goofy, carefree side again a couple of times and that somehow made her feel more confident about sitting next to him.

Their last meeting of the week was on Thursday afternoon. Martin had drawn up a schedule for the online advertising campaign and they were looking at it on Pam's computer.

"You can see we'll get a variety of demographics from bouncing through Facebook and more targeted audiences through Google AdWords," he said, pointing to graphs on the screen.

Pam grimaced. "Uh-huh, clear as mud. I trust your judgment, Martin."

Martin leaned back in his chair. "Maybe that's enough for now."

"Thank you," Pam mouthed.

"I know this is pretty heavy stuff. You can pour over the details in the report later. Let's talk about something else."

Pam shrugged. "Like what?"

"Anything you want. I know – you going skydiving again this weekend?"

Pam shook her head. "I think that was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Actually, I'm looking forward to this Friday night, though. Dave is away at an insurance conference in Kingston and both the kids are sleeping over with friends. I can't strike 'have the house to myself for a whole weekend' off my list, but it's a start. I really just want to break open a big bottle of red wine and do some quiet reading."

"Reading? That's nice." A sly grin spread across his face. "I've been reading every night this week."

Pam cocked her head to the side. "What have you been reading?"

"Fanfiction."

Pam felt her mouth drop open slightly. "What kind of fanfiction?" she asked cautiously.

"Good fanfiction. Hot fanfiction. Unbelievably good and hot, actually."

Pam felt her heart thumping. _No way could he have read that!_

"How?" she whispered. "I never gave you the url."

"Pam, I'm a _social media specialist_. You gave me your pen name. The rest was easy."

Holy Moses, now he knows how far my imagination can take me. Pam was blushing. "You read all of it?"

Martin nodded. "Almost everything you've posted so far. You have quite the talent," he said, an impish grin on his face. "Frankly, I thought it would be boring, but I really found myself getting drawn into the lives of those two characters – Mulder and Scully. And, my goodness, Ms. Williams, _you do_ have a fine sense of the erotic. The build-ups and the details in the sex scenes are hot enough to set cyberspace on fire! I've seen some damned hot stuff on the Internet before, but your writing rivals it all."

Pam didn't know whether to cringe in embarrassment or bask in the glory of such a great verbal review. She opted for the latter.

"So you really liked it? You're not just fooling around with me?"

Martin reached out and clutched her hand, rubbing his thumb leisurely across her palm. "No. I'm not fooling around with you. Not yet."

Pam's breath hitched in as Martin squeezed her hand. Wordlessly, he stood up, let his fingers slip through her palm and left her office.

Pam didn't see Martin at all on Friday. He was meeting with the client. He planned to visit the manufacturing facility to see how the product was made, hold it in his hands and get a real feel for it.

The day passed slowly. Pam was looking forward to going home and spending some quality 'alone time' in the house. It didn't happen very often, and she was going to savour it. Around 3:30 p.m., Mr. Pinches sent an office-wide e-mail to everyone. It contained two words – "Go home!" Pam heard cheers sprinkled throughout the office in the next few minutes.

Mass exodus ensued as everyone took advantage of an early start to the weekend. Pam arrived home in record time to a quiet, empty house. She had stopped on the way for her favourite Thai food takeout and was looking forward to the fiery spices tingling her tongue.

She opened a bottle of her favourite Italian red wine – Mezzomondo Negroamaro. It wasn't expensive, but she thought it was divine. She'd picked up a book at the supermarket last year by a guy who called himself the 'anti-wine-snob' and followed several of his wine suggestions with great success. Here was one guy who didn't believe something had to be expensive to be good – it simply had to be good. Pam poured a large glass and sat down to a wonderful and tranquil meal.

Afterwards, she let the dishwasher do its work while she luxuriated in a steamy bubble bath. She was balancing a second glass of wine on the edge of the tub and starting to feel its relaxing effect. Pam sighed deeply and drank in the aroma of the strawberry-scented bath beads. Her fingers and toes were wrinkled by the time she got out.

She strode naked from the bathroom into the kitchen and poured another glass of wine. With a small giggle and a shrug, she picked up the bottle and headed for the bedroom. She set the glass and bottle on the nightstand and lay spread eagle on the bed, loving how the cool air kissed her hot skin. Blood was pounding in her head from the sizzling bath, but it was a pleasurable sensation. After she cooled off a bit, she grabbed a nightshirt, propped the pillows up on her bed and started to read a saucy book she'd been reading on and off for the past couple of weeks.

Pam loved reading. It took her into a different world where anything could happen. She had no idea how much time had passed, but she had plowed through a massive chunk of the book – and the level of wine in the bottle was starting to get low. She was pouring another glass when the phone rang.

Pam frowned. Probably Dave. He said he wasn't going to call tonight. I told him I wanted a night to myself. Oh, well, maybe I can get him off the phone fast and see what happens in the next chapter. This book is starting to get really hot.

She reached out and picked up the receiver. "Hello," she said, trying to sound pleasant. Her greeting was met by silence. "Hello?" she said louder.

"Hi, Pam."

She knew who it was right away but took a few seconds to respond. "Hi, Martin."

"You having a good night?"

"Um...yeah...I was just reading a book in bed."

He was slow to respond and Pam wondered for a moment if he was still there. She took another sip of wine and set the glass back on the nightstand.

"I didn't want to interrupt you," he said.

"No interruption," she said. "But is there something I can help you with? Did you want to talk about something to do with the project?"

"Yes," he said, pausing, "and no."

Pam waited a moment. "What are you reading?"

"Ummm...it's called _The Innocent Flame of Seduction_. It's some silly contemporary romance novel that all the women at work are talking about."

"Doesn't sound silly to me. Sounds hot!"

Pam cleared her throat. "Martin, don't tell me you go in for romance novels," she teased.

"You'd be surprised." She heard only his breathing for a moment.

"Pam, what are you wearing?"

Pam tried to hide her intake of breath but was unsuccessful. _What am I wearing?_ _Is this what I think it is?_

"Ummm...well, it's a nightshirt."

"What colour?"

"Well, it's sort of a light blue, turquoise almost."

"Tell me more about it."

_Oh my god, this is what I think it is. This is number seven on my Fifty List_.

"Uhhhhhh..."

I'm not sure if I can do this...oh, c'mon Pam, have a little guts. Can I? You kissed him, didn't you? This isn't really cheating or anything...it's only a phone call. Think of what Hannah would say – 'go for it girl!'

Pam cleared her throat again. "Ummmm...it's a sort of silky fabric, it comes down to about mid-thigh level and the buttons..."

He cut her off. "What are you wearing under it?"

Pam swallowed hard. She whispered. "Nothing." She listened to their mutual breathing for a minute.

"That's very good, Pam. I want you to do exactly as I say. Will you do that?"

_I've been drinking and I'm in my husband's bed. I shouldn't be in my husband's bed. This is evil._ Pam pressed the phone harder to her ear said "yes" in a very small voice.

"Good. I want you to reach down and touch yourself. Touch yourself very lightly."

Pam took her right hand and gently placed it on the mound of springy curls between her legs. She let her hand linger, feeling her heart pounding heavily in her chest. Her head was feeling spinny from the wine. Glacially, she moved her hand, brushing it across the pubic hair.

"Tell me about your pussy," Martin rumbled softly. "I want to know how it feels to touch it."

Pam gasped. This was wicked! It took a moment for her to speak.

"Oh Martin, I can't believe I'm doing this." She paused. _But I am going to do this._ She heard a long "mmmmmm" on the other end of the phone, which spurred her on. She spoke slowly. "It's soft and thick at the same time. It's a full mound of flesh that fits nicely into my hand. When I move my hand even slightly, it moves the individual hairs and tickles my skin." She moaned softly.

Pam heard an agonized groan on the other end of the phone. "I want to touch you. Play with yourself and tell me what you're doing. And give me details...just like you do in your hot fanfiction with Mulder and Scully."

Pam loved the reference to her fanfiction. Her shyness suddenly vanished and she wondered if it was from the wine or from the novelty of the situation.

"Mmmm....might be hard to talk but I'll try. It's really slick down there. My finger can easily glide up and down the insides of my labia. Mmmm...Martin...I'm rubbing both sides and they're really wet." Pam was finding it difficult to talk, but describing what she was doing turned her on even more. So did the sound of Martin's laboured breathing on the phone. "I'm playing with myself, exploring, teasing, pressing gently and then with a little more pressure." Pam was feeling light-headed and her breathing was hard and slow.

"Oh, Pam – what you do to me!" Martin whispered. "Tell me more, baby. I'm touching myself and getting aroused, but this is all about you. Keep going."

"Oh, Martin, my skin is so silky. I'm rubbing up and down, but I'm avoiding my most sensitive spot right now. I'll go through the roof if I touch it."

"I want you to go through the roof," he growled. "But for now, bring your hands up and play with those luscious breasts of yours."

Pam reluctantly pulled her hand up and undid the buttons on her nightshirt. Her nipples were very erect. "Jesus," she sighed, as she filled her hands with creamy flesh. "My breasts are hot. Martin, I'm going to tell you a secret. I know it sounds conceited, but I love my own breasts."

Martin chuckled. "I don't blame you. If I was you, I'd never go out of the house. I'd stay at home and play with them all day long."

Pam couldn't help but laugh. Her breasts looked fantastic from just inches away. "Martin, I don't know if you're aware of this, but touching them feels amazing not only on my own hands and breasts, but through my whole body. I pinched my nipple and it sent a beeline of pleasure straight down between my legs."

"I've read about that," he responded. "Must be fantastic," he groaned.

Pam's right hand fell to the surface of the bed and she rubbed the silky nightshirt against her inner thigh, loving the way the material felt in her fingers. She slid her hands up and down her sides, delighting in how the fabric felt against her skin.

Pam leaned back against the headboard, her head and shoulders propped up enough to see all the voluptuous curves of her body. She closed her eyes and imagined what Martin would see if he was with her.

"Pam, I want you to bring one hand down again. I want you to pleasure yourself some more."

Pam quickly complied. She brought two fingers into the task, rubbing up and down, loving the silky feeling of her female tissues. She was aching and felt something clamp down deep inside of her. She slid her fingers down further and felt increased wetness there.

"Oh, I'm so wet," she purred. "I'm moving my fingers in tiny circles at my opening. It creates these tiny shock sensations in my belly and breasts when I do that."

"Woman, you are killing me," Martin whimpered. "Put your fingers inside yourself. I want you to feel all the pleasure you possibly can."

Pam was incredibly turned on by the deepness of his voice and couldn't stand it any longer. She plunged her fingers inside and moved them in and out. She was moaning and groaning loudly. But it was Martin's moans and groans on the other end of the phone that turned her on the most.

"Pam, I want you to do something just for me," he said hurriedly. "Put your fingers in your mouth. Suck on them. Tell me what they taste like."

Pam slowly pulled out her fingers and dragged them up her body, placing them on her lips. She rubbed her slippery fingers on her lips, delighting in her own sweet aroma. She noisily pulled fingers into her mouth, making small sucking noises for Martin's benefit.

"Martin, I've been rolling my tongue over my fingers. It tastes like nothing else on earth to me. It's creamy on the tongue, maybe a bit salty – maybe even a bit like oranges."

"Hmmmm...I love oranges," he growled.

Pam barely heard the last comment. The ache between her legs and into her lower belly was enormous. She removed the fingers from her mouth, pulled in a ragged breath between her teeth and lowered her hand again. This time, she quickly slipped her fingers into her throbbing vagina.

"Martin, I need to do something. I need to touch my clit. It's aching so much it almost hurts. I need to stroke it _right now!_ "

Martin exhaled sharply. "Do it," he said quickly.

Pam kept two fingers in her vagina but extended her thumb upwards.

"OH! MY! GOD!" she shouted.

Pam nearly lurched off the bed. She was swollen, and touching herself was so intense and so direct. She slid her thumb up and down and side to side, feeling the hardness below. It sent waves of pleasure everywhere. She soon set up a rhythm of stroking alternately with her fingers and thumb. Her breathing transformed into rapid, ragged panting.

"Talk to me, baby," Martin pleaded.

"Ohhhh...it aches deep inside me. I _almost_ want it to go away, but I can't stop." She was finding it hard to speak. "My toes are getting warm, Martin. I don't know if I'll be able to talk much longer."

"That's okay, I'll just listen. You turn me on so much, baby. I'm really close myself, but I want to wait. I want to hear you cum. Cum for me, Pam," he said encouragingly. "I want to hear you explode."

Pam felt a strong urge to squeeze her thighs together tightly. It crushed her hand but increased the sensation. She felt a sudden flush creep up her body. The muscles between her legs tightened and she had a fleeting feeling that her heart was stopping.

"Oh...ohh...ohhhh...ohhhhh," she breathed, the pitch of her voice increasing with each exhale. She heard a similar sound on the other end of the phone and it threw her over the edge.

Pam felt a huge clamping sensation and wave upon wave of incredible pleasure overtook not only her core, but surged into her belly and thighs. Each time she stroked her thumb over her clit, she received a new jolt of pleasure. She didn't ever want to stop rubbing. _Oh, god, this is going to go on forever._

Pam lay on the bed, her head thrown back, her mouth opened into a large 'O,' her eyes tightly shut and her body arched upward. Over the phone, she heard the unmistakable sound of a man giving himself up to his own pleasure. She revelled in the sound. _I made him do that. I gave him that pleasure_.

Pam slowed the movements of her right hand, but couldn't stop moving it entirely. Her fingers were coated in slippery juices and slid smoothly over the hyper-sensitive flesh between her legs. Her pussy had stopped its wild thumping, but she was still very aroused and found intense pleasure in rubbing her fingers in slow circles around her clit. She was trembling, not only at the sensations of her own body, but at the realization of what she had done and who she had done it with.

Pam opened her eyes and tried to relax her body, realizing that most of her muscles had been tensed for several minutes. Her breathing had pretty much stopped during the orgasm and she tried to take in some deep, deliberate breaths. She willed herself to stop moving her fingers but gave in to the urge to extend her hand flat between her legs. Massaging gently seemed to help the leftover ache subside.

"Jesus, Pam; I hope you appreciate what you have between your legs," Martin groaned. "If you don't touch yourself every chance you get, then there's something very wrong."

A moment of silence ensued. "As much as you pleasured yourself, I can only imagine the pleasure I could bring to you," he whispered. "The next time I make love to your body, I want to be with you."

#  chapter ten

Pam heard a small click on the other end of the phone. She closed her eyes and listened to the dial tone before pressing the 'end' button and placing the phone back on the nightstand. She lay in silence, letting her hands drag slowly up and down her body. She felt very weary and pulled the comforter up to her neck.

She opened her eyes and noticed the room was spinning. Pam gazed at the nearly-empty bottle beside her and decided she'd probably had enough wine for one night. _I am going to be so hung over in the morning. And I'll probably regret what I did too. But for now, I don't regret anything. That was more exciting than skydiving!_

Pam made a quick trip to the bathroom and drank a couple of big glasses of water to dilute the wine. She got back into bed, shut off the light and snuggled under the comforter again. "It all seems sort of like a dream," she said into the darkness, just before she fell asleep.

Pam woke once during the night to use the bathroom. She could already feel the hangover and washed down a few Motrin with several more glasses of water. Upon waking the next morning, she was glad she had done that. Her stomach felt queasy, but at least her head seemed fairly clear. Clear enough to remember in great detail what happened the night before. Pam sat in the kitchen, drinking strong, black coffee. She managed to eat some scrambled eggs and her stomach started to settle. A very long, hot shower also helped her to feel mostly human again.

Wrapping a towel around her head while heading back into the bedroom, she heard the phone ring. She sat down on the bed and stared at the ringing phone. Pam reached a hand out hesitantly and let it hover. She looked at the clock radio – it was 11:20 a.m. _It might be Dave, or one of the kids needing a ride. I really should answer it._

Pam picked up the phone on the fifth ring, before the answering system would have kicked in. "Hello," she said slowly.

"Hello," the voice on the other end of the phone said quietly. Pam closed her eyes and breathed slowly. He was patient.

"Hello, Martin."

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay. I was drinking wine last night and I have a wee bit of a hangover, but I'm okay. How about you?"

"I'm feeling pretty good. Actually, I'm feeling _really_ good."

Pam hesitated. "Martin, this is awkward. I don't know what to say you after last night."

Martin sighed. "You don't have to say anything. You don't have to do anything. But there is something I _want_ you to do. Something I'd really _like_ you to do."

"What's that?"

"I want you to meet me. I really want to see you. I don't want the next time we see each other to be at the office on Monday. I want to see you today."

"Martin, do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Yes," was all he said.

Dave isn't due home until tonight. Maybe I should meet with him today. We can talk about this and somehow put it all behind us. "Okay, let's meet. But not here. How about at a park or something?"

"That sounds good. Do you know the Scanlon Creek Conservation Area up past Newmarket?"

Pam hadn't been there before, but Martin gave her directions and suggested they meet in a couple of hours. After hanging up the phone, Pam headed to the kitchen in her robe and towel-wrapped head. "I'm going to need this," she said, pouring herself another cup of strong coffee.

Pam rolled into the parking lot of the conservation area just past 2 p.m. There were only a half dozen cars in the lot. She saw Martin's Audi in the far corner, pulled her car up beside his and parked. She looked over and saw Martin in his car. He gave her a quick wave. It was chilly and breezy when she stepped out. There was a dark cloud overhead and Pam wondered if rain was on the way.

Martin had gotten out of his car and was also looking at the sky. "If we're going to have a walk, we'd better do it now. Looks like we maybe have a late spring storm brewing."

Pam was glad to have the weather to talk about during their first few seconds together. It took the edge off. Pam glanced into the back seat of the Audi and then at Martin. "Where's Amber? I assumed you would have brought her with you."

"I dropped her off at doggie daycare on the way here. I thought she could use some time with her friends to burn off some steam. I've brought her to this place several times but there's no place I can let her off leash here and...well...I thought she might be a bit of a distraction."

Pam had been counting on the dog as a distraction.

"There's a nice walk along this gravel road and we can easily loop back if it starts to rain," said Martin. "Care for a stroll?"

Pam threw her purse over her shoulder and nodded. They started walking along the narrow road. Pam noticed he was wearing jeans again, like last Saturday, only these ones were black denim. _I'm with him two Saturdays in a row._ He also had on a dark brown leather jacket that looked worn at the elbows. The weather had been so warm lately, Pam hadn't thought of a jacket. Luckily, she was wearing a light sweater.

They walked along the road for several minutes without talking. Pam was aware that he had looked at her sideways a few times, but she kept her eyes set on the road in front of her. "How's your head?" he asked softly.

"My head?" Pam looked at him, puzzled. "Oh...my head! Right. It's okay. It's not like I've never drank a bottle of wine before," she said, smiling for the first time since arriving at the park. Martin looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. He stared at the ground before speaking again.

"There's a bench a few minutes up this way," he said, pointing toward a rise. "It has a great view. You wanna go there?"

"Sure," Pam nodded.

They continued to amble along in silence. When they reached the bench, they sat and admired the view. "You can see across the bottom of Lake Simcoe over to Sutton on a clear day," said Martin, "but it's too cloudy today."

They sat for a few more minutes. "So, did you strike it off your list?"

Pam turned to Martin. "Strike what off my list?"

Martin gazed at her with a close-lipped smile. "You know. Last night."

Pam swallowed hard. "Oh...that," looking anywhere but into his eyes. "No. No, not yet."

Martin reached over and unzipped her purse. "I want to see you do it."

Pam froze for a moment. Eventually, she reached in for a pen and the list. Martin took it from her, unfolded the yellow sheet and spread it out on the bench between them. He looked at her and nodded. "I can't believe I'm doing this," said Pam, taking pen to paper and putting a line through number seven on her Fifty List – _Have phone sex_. They both looked at the yellow sheet.

15 Things to Do Before I am 50

- Drink a $100 bottle of wine (maybe by myself or maybe with a friend)

- Smoke pot (definitely with a friend)

- Read a 500-page book in one sitting

- Meet Mulder

- Jump out of a perfectly good airplane

- Say no when you feel obligated to say yes

- Have phone sex

- Steal something – something fun

- Get a classy tattoo in a private place

- Have the house to myself for an entire weekend

- Do something completely stupid

- Buy a pair of expensive silk undies, wear them once

and throw them away

- Play hooky from work (and do something fun)

- Figure out what I want to be when I grow up

- Eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz dark chocolate ice-cream

Martin made a very small cheering noise. "See, now was that so hard?" Pam shook her head, shoving the list and pen back into her purse. "Martin, I'm finding it hard to believe what we did. I'm not sure I would have done it if I hadn't had several glasses of wine."

Martin playfully leered at her. "Actually, I was counting on you doing just that. You'd said you were planning to break open a bottle of red wine. That was why I waited so long before calling you. I was hoping you'd be well into the bottle and your inhibitions would already be lowered."

"That seems very strategic," Pam commented. He had this thing planned out well in advance, didn't he? You didn't have a chance.

"Well," he said, smiling gently, "I wanted you to have continued success with your list, Ms. Williams."

Pam scowled playfully. "Yes, I suppose I should thank you...for helping me with the list, I mean."

Martin reached out and clasped her hand. "I was very happy to help. I'd be willing to help you as much as you want."

Oh, no, this isn't going at all as I planned. I wanted us to put all of this behind us. I thought he might even be apologetic. But he's looking at me like he wants to devour me right here and now.

Small raindrops started falling from the grey cloud overhead. Martin squeezed her hand as he looked at the sky. "It's starting to rain. Let's get back to the cars before we get soaked," he said, pulling her up.

Pam withdrew from Martin's clasp and put her hands in her pockets. They didn't exactly run, but they walked very quickly back to the parking lot, taking half the time they had on their way to the bench. It was starting to come down hard. Pam felt chilled. She noticed all the other cars had left. Martin pulled his keys out of his pocket and hit the 'open' button on his keypad.

"Quick, get in," he said. Pam went to open the front door but Martin said, "No, not that one. Get in the back." Thunder cracked and Pam didn't argue. She opened the door and got into the back seat as Martin entered from the other side.

"There's dog hair here," Pam complained.

"Oh yeah. This is where Amber usually sits. Sorry about that." Pam shook her head. "That's okay. It's better than being in the rain."

They sat and listened to the rain beat down on the roof of the car and watched lightning fork across the sky. Pam shivered. "This is quite the storm," Martin mumbled.

"Martin, are we going to talk? I mean, really talk?"

Martin turned sideways, brushed away a few dog hairs and relaxed back onto the Audi's plush seat. "If you want. We can talk or not talk. Whatever _you_ want."

"Why is this just about me?" she said, sounding annoyed.

The corners of Martin's mouth turned up very slowly. "Because I want it to be."

Pam sighed deeply. "You know I can't do this. I have a husband and children. I want it to stay that way."

Martin nodded. "So do I. That's your life. It's what makes you who you are. I wouldn't have it any other way," he said, reaching out and stroking the back of her head gently.

Pam shut her eyes tightly before looking at him. "Martin...you are confusing me."

"I'm counting on it," he said, continuing to stroke her hair.

Pam closed her eyes and leaned her head back into his hand. She felt tingles in her scalp and her chills were replaced by a flushed feeling. Martin shifted and moved closer to her. She sensed the heat of his thigh next to hers. He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose into her hair. His breath was hot on her neck.

Thunder cracked violently and Pam jumped. Martin wrapped his arm around her and said "shhhhh" softly into her ear. She detected the strong smell of leather from his damp jacket. Martin wrapped his other arm around her and she relaxed into his embrace. They moved very little for several minutes.

Martin rested his head on her shoulder and Pam turned as best she could to look at him. His eyes were closed. His face looked contented and more boyish than usual. Actually, he looked like someone about to nod off. "Martin?" she said quietly. "Hmmmm?" he responded, his eyes still closed. "What are we doing?"

Martin breathed slowly and took a minute to respond. "We're just _being_."

"Just _being_?" Pam chuckled. "That sounds like something my hippy dippy friend Hannah would say."

"That Hannah's a smart chick."

Pam reached up and stroked Martin's hair. He made a small purring sound and pulled his arms around her a little tighter. She lowered her hand and brushed it across the stubble on his cheek. He turned his head slightly and kissed her palm. Pam lowered her hand a little more and rubbed her fingertips across his lips. His tongue moved ever so lightly across her fingertips. Pam lifted her hand and reached around, placing it on his back and pulling him closer to her.

They held each other in the back seat of the Audi until the rain started to subside and the thunder rumbled away from them, becoming distant. At some point, Martin opened his eyes and lifted his head. Pam looked into his hazel eyes and marvelled at how the colour changed so much in different types of light. He leaned in and they touched foreheads for a moment. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled gently. Their lips met lightly and they kissed softly.

Martin pulled his lips away but touched foreheads with her again. He spoke quietly, his eyes cast downward. "This can be anything you want. I want you in my life. I hope you want me in yours. I'm not asking to rip you away from anything you have. I just want to add another element to it. There's a spark in you and it ignites something inside of me. That's something I haven't felt for a long time. Please say that you're willing to give it a try."

Pam pulled back enough to look him in the eye. His face was full of honesty and openness. Pam nodded slowly. "Yes," she said. "Yes...let's give it a try."

Martin smiled. He leaned in and kissed her, a little firmer this time, but with the same sense of tenderness. He let go and relaxed into the back seat. "I guess I should probably let you get back home now."

"I guess so," said Pam. She reached out and squeezed his hand briefly. "I'll see you on Monday?"

"At your service, team leader," he said, giving her a little salute.

They exited opposite sides of the car. "Bye," said Pam, from across the roof. "Bye," he said. Pam and Martin each got into their cars and drove out of the park, turning opposite directions once they reached the highway. Pam watched the Audi fade away into the distance through her rear view mirror.

Pam pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine. She sat there for a moment and stared into space. _Being here and being in his arms is like two different worlds entirely. How can those worlds co-exist?_ She got out and unlocked the front door, walking into silence. The light was flashing on the phone. Both kids had left messages that they wouldn't be home until late. She had told them several times that she didn't mind how late they stayed out, as long as they left a message telling her what they were up to. "At least _both of them_ are following all the rules," she mumbled.

Pam went into the kitchen and pulled out some chicken breasts she had been defrosting in the fridge. She poured a generous amount of Diana Sauce over them and popped them in the oven along with a couple of baking potatoes. Dave would be home soon and, along with the pre-washed salad mix she bought earlier in the week, it would make an easy meal. She looked into the cupboard where they kept liquor and pulled out the bottle from last night. There was still enough left for one glass. She poured it and tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin under the sink. _Hopefully, Dave won't notice I drank the whole bottle. He's more of a beer guy anyway._

A half hour later she heard the sound of a car and the front door opening. "Hey, hon, I'm back," Dave shouted, dropping his suitcase on the floor. "Where are ya?"

"I'm in the living room drinking a glass of wine. Get yourself a beer if you want. Supper will be ready in a little while."

"Okay. See ya in a few minutes."

Pam listened to familiar noises as her husband went into the bedroom to change clothes, used the washroom and trudged into the kitchen. He was rooting around in the refrigerator and she heard bottles clinking. There was the unmistakable sound of a beer being opened and poured into a mug.

Dave came into the living room. "Hey, hon," he said, leaning over and giving her a quick kiss before flopping onto the sofa. "How was your night in the house?"

Pam took a sip of her wine. "Oh, it was fine. I got some Thai food and it was good. Then I guess I spent most of the night reading. It was really quiet here."

"Reading," he snorted. "You sure know how to have a good time," he chuckled sarcastically.

Pam glared at him and then said in her sweetest voice, "Oh, and while I was reading, my lover called and we had wild, crazy, hot phone sex."

Dave looked at her impassively and then erupted into a fit of laughter. "Phone sex! Ahhh...that's a good one, Pam!"

Pam watched her husband take a long swallow of his beer before asking, "How was the insurance seminar?"

"Oh, it was fantastic. You wouldn't believe some of the new software I saw. It's really going to change the face of actuarial tables as we know it," his face turning solemn. "Things are really changing. I even heard a bit about how we're going to be using social media. I was thinking maybe I should call that guy at your work and ask him about it. His name's Martin, right?"

Pam was sipping her wine and coughed a little.

"You okay?" he asked. "Oh, sure, something just went down the wrong way," she responded.

Dave nodded. "So, how did you spend the day today?"

"Today? Today I took a little drive and had a walk at this conservation area north of Newmarket. It was really pretty and had a nice view of Lake Simcoe. But it started to rain, so I came home."

"Oh yeah," said Dave. "It was pouring about half way home. Seems to have brightened up a bit now, though." Dave took another sip of beer. "What's for supper?"

"Chicken, potatoes and salad. The kids are off at friends. I'll go check and see how it's doing." Dave set his beer on the coffee table and relaxed back into the sofa as Pam left for the kitchen.

Pam rooted around and found a fresh bottle of red wine, refilling her glass. _A good Malbec_. _I knew I had another bottle here somewhere. Not quite the $100 bottle on my list, but it'll do for now_. She puttered around in the kitchen and set the table for two. The chicken and potatoes were cooking faster than she expected, so she called out to let Dave know supper would be very soon. _Just as well, I'm starving_.

Dave and Pam sat down to supper, discussing Samantha's needs for living in the university residence that fall. She had said she would need a small fridge and Dave thought he'd give her the bar fridge from the basement – he'd been hoping to get a new one for himself anyhow. It seemed they were having more and more weekend meals without the kids these days. It was nice to have some quiet time, but it felt strange.

They put their plates in the dishwasher. Dave headed back to the living room to watch an old movie on TV. Pam told him she was a bit tired and that a bath would feel good.

As she soaked in the strawberry-scented tub, just like the night before, Pam thought how completely unreal the past 24 hours had seemed. _Did it all really happen?_ "What the hell am I doing?" she said out loud, taking a long swallow of her wine. The wine seemed to nicely fight the remnants of the hangover she'd been keeping at bay all day long.

Feeling surprisingly tranquil, Pam pulled the plug and watched the water swirl down the drain as she lay naked. It was mesmerizing. She felt gravity come back to her as the water level dropped, making her body feel heavier and heavier. It was an odd sensation, but one she enjoyed. She let her head drop back against the porcelain ledge. A loud sucking sound hit her ears, drawing her back into the moment as the last bit of the water left the tub.

Pam got out and wrapped herself in a huge, thirsty yellow bath sheet. She carried her wine glass into the bedroom and set it on the nightstand, like she had on Friday night. After slipping into a fresh nightshirt, she lay back on the bed. Her thoughts turned to the back seat of Martin's Audi. She mused as to how the afternoon could have turned out differently _. He seemed so happy just to be there with me, just to hold me in the back seat of his car. If he'd wanted more, I don't think I could have resisted, but I really think that what we did was all he wanted_.

Pam heard Dave in the bathroom. It was still pretty early, but it sounded like he was getting ready for bed. He came into the bedroom in his boxer shorts, his clothes draped across his arm. "Guess I'm getting older, Pam. That conference knocked the shit out of me," he said. "Feel like I could sleep 'till Monday morning," he said, as he threw his clothes into the laundry basket, put on a fresh pair of shorts and climbed into bed.

"Well, night," he said, kissing her softly. "Night," she replied, flicking off the bedside lamp. Pam lay awake for at least an hour, staring at the ceiling. Eventually, she curled up into a ball and fell asleep.

# chapter Eleven

Pam was in the back seat of the Chevy with Randy. They were making out and things were getting pretty heavy. They both had their hands down each other's jeans.

"You're so wet," he groaned. "You know you want it and so do I. Look," he said, reaching for his wallet and opening it. "Adults are always telling us to be responsible. Well, I say let's listen to them." Randy pulled out a condom. "We can do anything we want as long as we use this."

Pam reached out and took the condom. She turned it over and looked at the other side of the small, square piece of plastic. Her heart was beating fast. She wasn't sure if it was from fear or excitement. _Latex condoms are intended to prevent pregnancy_ , it said. Randy had resumed moving his hand non-stop inside her jeans. Pam closed her eyes tightly.

"Why the hell not?" she whispered, handing the condom back to Randy. With her eyes still closed, she heard the package being ripped open and a moan from her high school boyfriend. She lifted her hips as he pulled the jeans over her ass and down her legs to around her ankles. She went limp as he pulled her legs across the seat. Her head hit the door handle with a thump. She winced and reached back to rub it.

Randy wet his hand before rubbing his fingers along the landing strip of her pussy. He knew exactly what he was doing. Randy was the only guy who had ever been able to find her clit. That was the main reason she had stayed with him this many months. None of the other boys seemed to have his sense of precision. He had made her cum six times in the Chevy and he had shot into her hand many times, but her jeans had always stayed on. She was keyed up to finally let them be peeled down.

Pam clenched her jaw and waited for the stab of pain she'd heard about so many times from her girlfriends. Randy was covering her body and kissing her ear. "Are you ready?" he asked. "Uh-huh," was all she could manage to say.

"Okay," he said, and she felt his cock rubbing on the inside of her right thigh. "I don't want to hurt you, but I'm not sure if I can help it. Sorry."

Pam took a deep breath as she felt his tip pushing between her legs. She parted her legs a little more. Randy thrusted, shoving himself deep inside her all at once. Pam gasped. She was astounded. There was no pain. It was a feeling of fullness, that was all. It was the most incredible sensation she'd ever experienced. She rubbed Randy's back, encouraging him to continue. As he began to set up a rhythm, Pam felt a warm feeling deep down in her belly. "Keep going," she grunted.

"What?"

Pam didn't understand. Hadn't he heard her? "Pam, what are you saying?" Pam opened her eyes slowly, squinting into a light green wall. She felt completely disoriented.

"Pam, what were you saying? You were mumbling something in your sleep."

Dave. It was Dave's voice. He was pressed up tight behind her and she felt the unmistakable feeling of a morning woody pressing into her ass. "Was I? I guess I was having some sort of dream?"

"Hmmm....sounded like a good one," said Dave, reaching around and fondling her breasts. "How'd you like a bit of morning glory?" he added, pushing his stiff cock into her butt cheek. Pam was already thoroughly aroused _. I guess the dream did that to me._ She reached behind her and wrapped her hand around Dave's cock in an answer to his invitation. Dave moaned in response.

Pam took her hand away for a moment and moistened it with saliva before putting it behind her again, stroking her husband's boner up and down. "I take it this is a yes," he said. Dave wet his fingers with saliva and moistened the inside of his wife's ass. Pam let go as Dave took the tip of his penis and rubbed it between her cheeks. This was one of his favourite parts of sex. He loved that his wife had such a fleshy ass.

Dave's movements did nothing to relieve the ache Pam felt between her legs. In fact, they made it more intense. She reached down and put two fingers inside herself briefly, bringing up the slickness and using it to rub circles firmly around her clit. For several minutes, they used their own hands to heighten their own pleasure.

Pam could feel Dave growing harder and suddenly felt the need to have him fill her. She slapped his hip a couple of times, a non-verbal signal they had somehow adopted over the years. Dave kept up his rubbing for a moment, but understood exactly what that hip slap meant. His wife was feeling "needy." He lowered himself down the bed slightly and rubbed the head of his cock at her entrance.

Pam felt like she was being teased, but loved this type of teasing. Dave rubbed himself in small circles and repeatedly moved his tip half way in and out. The entrance to her vagina was so sensitive, she figured she could probably cum just from it being played with. After several wonderfully agonizing minutes, Dave shoved into her. They both groaned loudly.

Pam often thought of sexy scenes from movies or books while she was being fucked. Concentrating on a particularly erotic scene in her head was often enough to move her from a state of pleasure into one of ecstasy and push her over the edge. But she was having trouble thinking of anything impassioned enough to send her reeling. Dave had picked up the pace and she was getting concerned about not getting there in time.

Dave reached out to prop his hand on the wall and accidently knocked a pillow over Pam's face, not noticing what he had done. Pam was about to grumble and tell him to get the pillow off her head, but a thought occurred to her as the room suddenly disappeared from view. _With my eyes covered up, that could be anyone back there fucking me_.

The thought was very arousing. Pam closed her eyes under the pillow to shut out her surroundings even more. The first vision that came to her was straight out of her own fanfiction. It was Mulder back there. His long, lean form was molding to the back of her body and his cock was pounding into her mercilessly. _This is working_. Pam felt warmth surging between her legs and knew she was back on the road to ecstasy.

"Yes, yes, give me more. I need more," she pleaded. Dave hardly heard her but continued his plunder, his breathing laboured. The fantasy of Mulder fucking her continued in Pam's head. She was kissing Mulder now. She felt his tongue in her mouth and imagined him kissing his way down to her breasts. _I'm getting close_. Mulder was fucking her hard and she knew she was going to cum.

Pam opened her eyes and her eyelashes brushed against the pillow. Opening her eyes caused a sudden shift in her thought processes. The image in her brain changed. It wasn't Mulder anymore. It was Martin. He was looking at her in the restaurant, encouraging her to steal the pepper mill. A flush of warmth filled her chest. His lips were moving but no sound was coming out. She read his lips as he said "Do it!" Within seconds, Pam felt a surge of heat blast through her belly and nearly screamed as her vagina clamped down and sent explosive contractions flooding through her. She closed her eyes. "Do it..do it...do it!" she watched him say, over and over, during a frenzied peak that seemed to stretch out infinitely.

Dave came seconds later, spurred on by her pussy squeezing him over and over. He pulled out quickly and rolled over, panting. "What was that? I thought you were going to squeeze my dick off," he said. It sounded slightly more like a complaint than a compliment.

Pam was relieved that she was still turned away from him. She was sure her face was scarlet. "Why the hell are you under that pillow?" he asked, pulling it off. The morning light flooded her eyes and brought her crashing back into reality.

"That was kind of fun, you know," he said, pulling back the neckline of her nightshirt and kissing her gently on the shoulder. "I've got a golf game in about an hour, so I'm going to have a shower." Dave got out of bed and stretched. "We've still got it," he chuckled back at her as he walked to the bathroom.

Pam lay in bed and pondered the image her brain had delivered to her. She was surprised at her lack of control. She was usually able to concentrate fully on whatever erotic image she needed to get off. _As if Mulder wasn't good enough!_ _Still, I don't know if I've cum that hard in a while._ Pam heard Dave finish up in the shower and plod back toward the bedroom. She pulled the comforter up around her neck, closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. _I can't look at him right now_.

Dave sat on the bed to put on his socks, creating a shock wave under her. She listened to him rummaging through the closet and putting on his golf gear. He walked over to her side of the bed.

"Hon?" She opened her eyes slightly. "You have a nice sleep-in. I'm going to meet Joe at the golf course. I'll be back early or maybe mid-afternoon." Pam made a small noise and nodded her head on the pillow. "See ya later," he said, bending down to kiss her briefly on the lips before leaving.

Much to her surprise, Pam fell asleep shortly after Dave left. When she woke a few hours later, she felt refreshed and her discomfort about her fantasies had vanished. "Sometimes you can't control what your brain does to you," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and stretching.

Pam spent the day reading, shopping for the week, putting away the groceries and reading again. She spoke to the kids a couple of times as they left and came back to the house. Dylan was working on a project with a kid a few doors away. Samantha had gone tandem kayaking with a girlfriend in Lake Ontario and was bubbling over with excitement. She was talking about getting a top-end kayak with her first paycheck after she finished university.

Dave had come home mid-afternoon and was surfing the Internet about the newest regulations in the insurance industry. From the look on his face, Pam wondered if he took issue with the new rules, but then with Dave, it was always so difficult to tell what he was really thinking. For once in a long while, everyone sat down to supper together on a Sunday night. Pam had put a pot roast in the slow cooker shortly after getting up that morning. Dylan sneered when it hit the table, but thankfully didn't say anything. Pam had made sure to pull one of his favourite vegetarian casseroles out of the freezer and he happily ate almost all of it in one sitting. After supper, she scooped the bit of leftovers of the casserole into a plastic Glad container, set a slice of Swiss cheese on top and placed it on the top shelf of the fridge for him to take to school on Monday.

The evening passed quietly, with Pam starting on another fanfiction piece and Dave watching Mad Men on TV. Later that night, Pam lay awake in bed for a couple of hours before falling asleep. She couldn't imagine what it would be like working with Martin during the coming week. "What am I getting myself into?" she whispered into the darkness.

Pam started her workday on Monday by having a meeting with Mr. Pinches. He wanted an update on the Brown Shoes project. Pam gave him a full report of the overall picture and who was doing what. He seemed very pleased with the progress she had made and was interested in hearing about how each member of the team fit into the project.

"I'm really impressed with how you've managed this project, Pam. I know it can be a little daunting being a team leader for the first time, but you seem to have excelled at it. I'm always on the lookout for exceptional people and I think I've found one in you." Pam tried not to show it too much, but her chest was bursting with pride at Mr. Pinches' compliments.

"I have a few other people here who I think have management potential," he continued. "What do you think about this new lad I hired? Martin Campbell."

Pam felt her face flush and took a moment to get words out of her mouth. "Martin? Oh...well...I think Martin has a lot of potential. He's certainly brilliant and has moved our projects ahead exponentially in the social media arena."

Pinches listened intently and nodded. "Yes, I've had good feedback about him from our clients. They say he takes an interest in getting to know everything he can about their products and comes up with novel ideas." Pinches rubbed his chin, thinking. "Pam, you've been here for some time. I'd like you to mentor this Martin lad if you can. Keep on top of him and maybe guide him along a bit. I'd like to talk to you in a couple of month's time about his progress. I have some big plans for that boy."

Pam felt like her heart was going to leap out her mouth. _Keep on top of him! Oh, my god, I don't know if I'm about to faint or pee my pants laughing right here in front of you_. Pam silently nodded her head and managed to croak out, "Will do, Mr. Pinches. Anything else we need to talk about?"

"No, Pam. That's fine for now. Just keep me up to date about the Brown Shoes account and let me know if you need help with anything."

"Thank you, Mr. Pinches," she said, getting up and quickly escaping his office. She bolted down the hallway into her office. Pam closed the door and slumped back onto it. A burst of laughter erupted out of her. _This is insane. I probably shouldn't be laughing. I could be in big trouble here."Guide him along a bit." We'll see about that._

Just as she was starting to gain her composure, she felt a knock on the door she was leaning on. Pam took a deep breath and tried to put on her serious face. When she opened the door, she fell apart again and burst out laughing. It was Martin.

Martin stared at her, dumfounded. "What? What is with you?"

Pam shook her head. "Oh, nothing. It's Mr. Pinches. I had a meeting with him and he told me a really funny joke. Maybe I'll tell it to you someday."

Martin looked at her suspiciously for a moment, but then shrugged his shoulders. "Sure. Whatever."

Pam's laughter subsided and they stood looking at each other. Martin gazed around behind him and then turned to Pam again. "I thought about you a lot yesterday. In fact, I couldn't get you off my mind." He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the ceiling. "I know this is going to be kind of weird, working together this week, but let's try to keep working together like we have been. We work well together, don't you think?" Martin brought his gaze back to Pam. She simply nodded.

Martin looked behind himself once more before he spoke again. "Look...I know we have to be very good here at work, but I want to see you later this week. I want us to do _something_ together outside of this place. Does that sound okay to you?"

He looked hotter than ever in his black dress pants and crisp white shirt. For once, he wasn't wearing one of those awful ties. His shirt was open at the collar and she could see a small, downy tuft of dark chest hair above the button. _Frankly, I want to close the door and press you up against it right now_. She nodded. "Yes, that does sound okay." She paused. "It sounds better than okay, actually." Martin looked happy having heard that.

"I want to touch you right now," he whispered. "But I'm going to be a _good boy_ and head back to my office. Shoot me an e-mail when you want to talk about the Brown account."

Martin left and Pam sat down at her desk. "Work before play," she murmured.

The week progressed like any other. Pam was kept busy with the Brown account, as members of the team filed in and out of her office to share details of their progress. Pam was surprised at how normal it all seemed. She and Martin met several times about the account and other than the occasional hungry gaze – and once when he spontaneously stroked her thigh under the desk – their working relationship was as comfortable as ever. She did allow herself to sit closer to him than usual. It felt like a tease, but it also filled some sort of need.

Midway through Thursday morning, Martin showed up in her doorway. "What's in the purple bag, today?" Pam looked at her lunch bag. "It's a salad. You know, one of those ones from the supermarket with olives and feta cheese? I threw a few pieces of cooked chicken breast on it from last night's supper. It should be pretty good."

Martin smiled. "Sounds like something that would travel well." Pam cocked her head to one side and said, "Huh?" Martin slowly eased her office door closed. "I had a call from my dog walker this morning. She's not going to be able to walk Amber today. I need to go home at lunchtime and let her out – maybe take her for a walk." Pam nodded but looked perplexed. "I want you to come with me," he explained. "I want you to come see my house. You can bring your lunch and we'll eat there."

Pam scowled playfully. "Do we have to take the subway?"

Martin grinned. "No. No subway. I brought the Audi today, so you get to travel in style and class."

"Okay. Sounds good." Pam thought for a moment. "Do we walk out together or do I meet you at your car?"

"Actually, I think it would look _less_ suspicious if we just walk out together. If we start to sneak in and out of this building, that's when people are going to start to talk."

"Makes sense. Come get me when you're ready to go." Martin nodded and went back to his office.

Pam got into Martin's car for the ride into Greektown. She sniffed. "You know, it really smells of dog in here." Martin looked at her and chuckled. "It didn't seem to bother you much the other day." Pam raised her eyebrows. "I was being polite."

"Love me, love my dog," he muttered, as he peeled out onto Kingston Road. Pam was silent for most of the drive, thinking that was an interesting choice of words.

#  chapter twelve

Martin pulled into the driveway of a tall brick house in an older area of Greektown about 15 minutes later. "This is home," he said, as they got out of the car. Pam wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn't this. She looked at the detached two and a half storey brick house and marveled not only at its size, but also its architecture. It was one of those charming post World War 1 era houses with a pretty veranda out front. Someone had obviously put a lot of work into it. It had modern windows and immaculately painted wood trim. _This must have cost a mint_.

The veranda was eight steps up from the driveway, so the house must have had at least a small basement too. Martin opened the door and placed his hand on the small of her back, letting her enter first. Pam was even more impressed with the interior. The floors were a gleaming cherry hardwood and there were ornate mouldings near the ceiling. So many of these older houses had tiny rooms on the first level, but a few walls had been taken out to create a more open-concept atmosphere.

Out of nowhere, Amber appeared and wrapped herself around Pam's legs. "Hey, girl, daddy came home to let you out. Aren't you a lucky little lady," said Pam, scratching the Golden behind her ear.

"C'mon, let's go to the kitchen. I'm starving," said Martin. Amber took off ahead of him and Martin let her out into the backyard through a patio door off the side of the kitchen. Pam placed her purple bag on the kitchen table and took out the salad.

"Mmmm...that looks good," said Martin. "Tell you what – I have some leftover stir fry that I can nuke. How about we share your salad and my stir fry? That would make a good lunch, don't you think?"

"Sure, that sounds great. Where's your washroom?" Martin pointed and Pam went to wash the dog off her hands. While she was gone, Martin put the stir fry in the microwave and set the table. "You like iced tea?" he asked when she returned. "I love it," she replied. "Good. I make my own and I have a fresh batch," he said, pouring it into tall glasses with ice.

Martin put on an oven mitt and carried the stir fry to the table. They divvied up the food and ate all of it. Pam had been hungrier than she had realized and the iced tea was delicious – strong and not too sweet.

Martin cleared the dishes and placed them in the sink. Pam watched him from behind as he gave the dishes a little rinse. _It really is a very nice view._

"So," he said, turning back to her, "can I give you a little tour of my house?"

"I'd like that," Pam nodded. Martin toured her through the first floor first, telling her about all the renovations he had done since buying the house three years ago. Some of them he had done himself and some he had contracted out. "Let's go upstairs. I'll show you the top floor first and then we can work our way down."

The first staircase was an average width, but the stairs to the third floor were extremely narrow. "How on earth did you ever get anything up these stairs?" He smiled back at her. "Very carefully. It was an exercise in physics."

The top level was tiny, with slanted walls. The furniture was very simple, including a small sofa and coffee table, a leather reclining chair that faced out the window overlooking a large maple tree, and a large computer workstation with a hutch. "I brought the computer desk up piece by piece and assembled it up here. I guess it's here for life now, because it's never getting down that staircase."

"Is this where you read and do work?" Martin nodded. "Actually, this floor has the only computer in the house. I figured if I put it way up here, I'd have to really want to use it to get to it. I tend to spend too much time on the computer and having it on the third floor helps cure my addiction to _Mother Google_."

"I should chain ours to the attic at my house. Dylan spends way too much time on the computer."

"Do you want to go down to the second floor now?" Martin asked.

"Sure," she said, and they headed down the narrow staircase again. Martin took her into one room that was probably originally a bedroom, but now contained a huge leather sofa, a massive home theatre system and bookcases full of DVDs and CDs. "I'm a real movie buff...especially classic films," he said, as she perused his collection. "I spend a lot of time in here."

"C'mon...I want to show you something else I really like," he said, heading out of the movie room. He took Pam into one of the most elaborate bathrooms she had ever seen. It was divided into two areas. One had a toilet, long vanity with double sinks and a shower that was tiled in dark green, had built-in benches and was six feet wide and at least as deep. The other end of the room had a hot tub with ceramic steps leading up to it and a skirt wide enough to sit on. Beside it was a window that looked out onto treetops.

"Martin, this is marvellous! It's the most beautiful bathroom I've ever seen."

"This was the first thing I did. These old houses are great, but the plumbing really sucks. I wanted a place where I could relax and unwind."

"Well, I'd say you were successful," she enthused.

Martin gazed at her briefly before saying quietly. "There are two more rooms to see," he said, extending his hand. He pulled her gently into the hall. They stopped at a doorway. "This is a guest room. It's really small and nothing special, but it serves its purpose."

He led her by the hand to the end of the hall. "This is my room – the master suite." It was large for such an old house. The walls were deep mauve, which complemented the purple duvet on the king-sized bed. It was sparsely decorated, but looked very sophisticated and neat. Pam noted how nicely the bed was made. She was looking around so intently, she barely noticed that Martin was gradually pulling her into the room.

Martin squeezed her hand and drew her eye contact. His eyes were locked on hers and she gasped as he pulled her toward the bed. "I know this is a cliché," said Pam, "but is it getting hot in here?" Martin grinned and pulled her close. "I'm not asking for much," he said quietly. "Just five minutes. I just want five minutes with you. That could last me a whole week."

Pam looked at him coyly. "Five minutes? I'm not sure that's quite enough time for me, but it might be if you're _really_ good."

Martin turned her around and sat her on the bed. "The clothes stay on, woman," he said in a mock warning. Move over and lay down," he commanded, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Yes, sir," she said, shifting across the bed and reclining. She was trying to look casual, but her heart was racing and her lungs didn't seem to be getting quite enough air. Martin slid onto the bed and they faced each other, lying on their sides.

"I've been dreaming about kissing you," he said softly. "Every day at work, I want to pull you into my arms and kiss you," he continued, edging closer and draping an arm across her back.

Pam swallowed hard and closed her eyes. His lips were so close. "I've had that feeling once or twice too," she breathed. Before she could say anything else, his lips were upon her and he was crushing her body into his.

Martin shifted and draped his upper body across hers. They ran their hands across each other's sides and backs as they explored each other's mouths. It was slow and soft, unrushed. Their lips parted and they explored each other's mouths lazily. How can we do this for just for five minutes? I want this to go on forever.

Martin brought up a hand and cupped her left breast gently, as he had in the park. Pam shivered as he caressed her breast through the fabric of her cotton shirt. She brought her hands up and tangled them in his hair, pulling him in for firmer contact with his mouth. He groaned as Pam pushed her tongue further into him, rubbing it against the roof of his mouth. He mimicked her action, rolling his tongue around hers. Pressed into his lips, she was aware of the increased rate of his breathing. Their session was quickly morphing from tender and gentle into hot and passionate.

Martin took his hand away and slipped it under her shirt. She drew her breath in sharply as his cool hand contacted her warm flesh. He pulled his lips away and Pam saw pure desire on his face. "Undo your bra – quick," he demanded, breathlessly. She reached back. It was a clumsy position in which to unhook a bra, but she managed to do it within a few seconds. Martin's mouth was on hers again almost instantly and both his hands were up under her shirt.

Pam felt a huge shiver jolt through her as Martin slipped his hands under the loosened bra and filled his hands with her breasts. She whimpered into his mouth as he pinched her nipples and rolled them between his fingers. His lips left her mouth and trailed downward, alternately kissing and sucking the side of her neck as he caressed her breasts. The sensation was intoxicating.

Pam could feel Martin's hardness against her leg. She slowly moved her hand down his body and let it linger on his flat belly, above his belt. Martin was squirming and making the same purring noises she'd heard in the back seat of his Audi. Now or never. Pam reached down a few more inches and placed her hand on the front of his trousers. As she rubbed his hardness, Martin moaned and clamped his mouth onto her neck, biting her lightly.

He was breathing very hard and Pam was nearly panting. He placed his hand on the back of hers, pressed it firmly onto his cock for a moment and moved it up and down. He swiftly dragged her hand away, clutching it tightly. She felt his lips brush against her earlobe and heard him swallow. "Pam," he moaned, "You are so sexy. I want you so bad. You do something to me." He paused. "Please tell me you want me too. If you don't, I'll survive – but if you do, I'll be the happiest I've been in years."

Pam held him tightly for a minute. Thoughts were swirling in her head but she could come up with only one word. "Yes," she whispered. Martin pulled back and looked her in the eye. "Yes?" he said. "Yes. I want you. I really do want you." Martin smiled widely and hugged her tight. "Pam, we have plenty of time ahead of us to do anything we want, and I think we both know how much we want. Believe me, part of me is aching to keep doing what we're doing." It was quiet in the bedroom, but seconds later they heard a bark.

"Amber!" Pam exclaimed. "She's still outside!" Martin nodded. "She'll live," he said, kissing her lightly. "But I think that was closer to 10 minutes than 5. I guess we should pull ourselves together. I don't want to walk into Pinches with a huge boner."

"Yes, that could set tongues wagging," Pam giggled. They shared one more long, unrushed kiss. Pam took the time to fasten her bra again properly before they got out of bed and headed back downstairs.

"Hey, sweetie. Your walk is going to have to wait until I get home from work. Maybe we can even go jogging," Martin said as opened the deck door and let Amber back inside. "I promise we'll have some quality time, okay?" he said, bending over and giving the Golden a quick hug.

Pam grabbed her purple bag off the table and followed Martin back to the Audi. As he grabbed the stick shift, Pam put her hand on top of his and squeezed. For Pam, the ride back to the office passed in a blur.

# chapter thirteen

Pam sat in her bedroom at home with the phone pressed tightly against her ear. She was praying to hear her friend pick up. "Hello?" Pam breathed a sigh of relief. "Hi, Hannah."

"Pam, my lovie! How are you? I haven't heard from you in ages."

"I'm okay. Sorry I haven't been in touch. I've been really busy at work lately and when I come home, I just want to crash."

"Well, that's okay. You have to take care of yourself." Hannah paused. "So, what's really up?"

Hannah always seemed to have a sixth sense about when something was going on in Pam's life. Usually, Pam felt uncomfortable about it, but right now she was glad to not have to pretend. "It's not anything I want to talk about on the phone, really. Are you around this weekend? Even for a couple of hours? I'd like to see you."

"Of course. That sounds fantastic. I have a few art classes to teach on Saturday, but I'll be free later in the afternoon. Why don't you come for supper on Saturday and then stay over until Sunday? We can make a girls' night of it. I can get Raj to make one of his amazing Indian dishes. He'd love to have someone else to cook for."

Pam let out a long breath. "You really are a very good friend, you know. I can always count on you."

"Pam...tell me...is it something serious?"

She hesitated before saying, "Well, I guess it could be. I mean, I'm okay physically, but I need some help figuring something out."

Hannah made her customary whistle-through-the-teeth sound. "Oh, man! It's him, isn't it? I knew it! Something's happened with you and him."

Pam was silent.

"Oh, girl, we do need to talk. And to be perfectly honest, I want to hear all the juicy details. I can't wait to see you."

Tears stung Pam's eyes. "I can't wait to see you either. See you on Saturday, then."

"Okay. You take care of yourself, babe. I love ya."

"Thanks, Hannah. Bye," she said, pushing the 'end' button on the phone.

Pam was in the lunch room getting a cup of coffee on Friday morning when she heard a shuffle behind her. "Uhhh...I hear the coffee here is pretty good." She turned to see Martin standing behind her with an empty cup. "It's not bad," she replied. Martin filled his cup as Pam stirred sugar into hers.

"You have anything exciting going on this weekend?" he asked, taking the sugar from her and stirring a tiny amount into his coffee. Pam nodded. "I don't know if it's terribly exciting, but I'm going to visit Hannah tomorrow and I'm staying over at her place. We haven't had a girls' night in a while, so it should be fun."

"Hannah? She must be a pretty good friend, huh?" he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Mmm-hmm. We've known each other since high school. We fell out of touch for quite a while, but got back together over the past few years."

Martin narrowed his eyes in an expression Pam found difficult to read. "So...a girls' night. What do you girls talk about when you get together?" He paused. "Boys?"

Pam was finding it difficult to make eye contact with him. How could he possibly know what I have in mind with Hannah? She cleared her throat and hoped her voice wouldn't betray her. "Oh...ummm...we talk about all sorts of stuff," she said, waving her hand as she walked past him.

Martin gently grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Pam, I just want you to be happy," he whispered. She finally looked him in the eye. "I know. I'm simply going to see a friend – that's all," she said evenly.

Martin nodded, releasing her arm. "You have a good time." Pam looked at him and touched his shoulder before she left the lunch room. She didn't see him again that day.

Pam was greeted at the door as much by Hannah's two dogs as by Hannah herself. Mishay and Shahana wrapped themselves around Pam's legs and Mishay even pushed herself through them a couple of times.

"Girls, girls, leave her alone. Back!" said Hannah. They were good dogs, but were always over-enthusiastic about having visitors. Pam thought they were the very epitome of the word "mutt." Hannah had gone to the pound a couple of years back to choose one dog, but instantly fell in love with both of them and brought home two. Nobody had any idea what breeds they were. They were both a medium size, but Mishay had short, wiry grey hair and Shahana had a soft, long, wavy black coat. Raj had given them both Indian names. He particularly liked the name Shahana, which was not only close in pronunciation to Hannah, but was also the name of a popular Indian actress – who just happened to be raven-haired and drop-dead gorgeous.

Pam had experienced the greeting before and knew what to expect. The friends tried to visit each other's homes a few times a year. She heard a whistle from the back of the house, followed by a male voice shouting, "Girls!" Both dogs bolted in that direction, giving Pam space to set down her bag.

"Pam," said Hannah, throwing her arms wide. "Let me squeeze the stuffin' out of ya." Hannah wrapped her arms around Pam and hugged her vigorously, as if they hadn't seen each other for years. For Pam, the atmosphere in Hannah's house always seemed a trifle chaotic, but it was a warm, friendly sort of chaos. She wrapped her arms around Hannah and hugged back.

"How was your drive?" asked Hannah, finally letting go. "It was not _too_ bad. I took the highway and got here in about two and a half hours." Pam usually meandered cross-country to get to Hannah's place, sometimes taking twice that long, but on this trip, she wanted to get there with the least fuss possible.

"The highway! Oh no! Your brain must still be going _Mach 3_. Let's get you settled in with a snack," she said, leading her friend to the kitchen. Raj was there chopping vegetables, the dogs now sitting prettily at his feet waiting for something to drop. Raj gave Pam a quick peck on the cheek as she entered the kitchen. "We're so happy to have you here, Pam. Hannah has been talking about you non-stop since she found out you were coming over."

Pam shot Hannah a sideways look, wondering what exactly Hannah had been saying. Hannah read the apprehension on her face immediately. "Don't worry, Pam," she smiled, "I didn't tell him any of our _girly stuff_." Raj cringed. " _Girly stuff!_ Oh, no, I don't want to know about any of that!" he said, laughing.

Pam loved Raj's accent. He was born in New Delhi, India, but had moved to Canada with his parents as a young teen. Raj had adopted North American mannerisms, but the accent of his native country was still rich and full. Pam thought he was adorable and incredibly attractive. He was a few years older than Hannah, but he looked very youthful. He had caramel-brown skin and beautiful dark eyes with deep crinkles at the corners, probably the result of smiling so much. Raj always seemed to have such a positive outlook on life and spoke knowledgeably on a wide variety of subjects. He was a very intelligent man. Pam never saw him as a "third wheel" on her visits to Hannah; she truly enjoyed his company.

Pam and Hannah sat at the table while Raj continued to chop vegetables for the authentic Indian dish he was preparing. The two women sat at the table and had a pleasant chat about nothing too specific or serious. Raj set a plate of raw veggies and a couple of spicy dips on the table for them to munch on. Pam was enjoying the calming transition between whirring down the highway and sharing a meal with her friends. As they were talking, an orange cat leapt unexpectedly into Pam's lap. She was startled for a moment, but laughed when the animal rubbed itself into her belly and started to purr.

"You don't mind, do you?" asked Hannah. "Oh, no, Hannah, it's fine. You know I love animals." Pam gazed around and chuckled. "And it's a good thing I do in this place." Pam was privy to only a few inhabitants of the menagerie for the moment. Hannah and Raj had no children, but they certainly did have plenty of pets. Besides the two dogs, they had four cats, a cage full of hamsters and gerbils, a pair of cockatiels that often flew around the house, and a very large aquarium full of colourful saltwater fish.

"There's no danger of ever being lonely around here," she said, as another one of the cats strolled over and curled up on Pam's foot. Hannah grinned. "I like knowing there are lots of other heartbeats in the house."

Hannah and Pam could talk for hours "about nothing," as Raj put it. The women had lost touch until about 10 years ago when Hannah wrote Pam a letter out of the blue. They started corresponding the old 'snail mail' route until Hannah discovered online chat. That particular technology was responsible for reviving their friendship. Over the past couple of years, they had visited each other as often as they could and had even hooked up for a few weekend getaways.

"That food smells amazing," Pam said. "Raj is such a good cook. You're so lucky to have him."

Hannah patted her stomach. "Yes, he is wonderful, but he doesn't do much for my waistline. I'm getting as big as a cow!"

Pam shook her head. Hannah would be considered slim by most any woman's standards. "Hannah, you barely weigh 10 pounds more than you did in high school." Hannah smiled. "It's not the weight, friend – it's where the weight settles and the gravity that pulls it down that's the problem." They both laughed at that.

Raj left to read in the living room while the "girls" talked, but he returned to put the finishing touches on the dinner. Pam helped Hannah set the table and Raj heaped everything into bowls and set them out.

"Hannah?" he asked. "Is it time?" Hannah grinned and nodded before turning back to Pam. "Pam, we got you something a little special to enjoy with dinner. It should stand up nicely to Raj's spicy cooking." From under the counter, Raj handed Pam a wine bottle. Pam stared at it with reverence.

"Oh, my god!" she gasped, staring at the bottle. It was an Italian blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Alicante – something she had never tried before. "This is too much. This is a _very_ expensive bottle of wine."

Hannah grinned again. "Your list said ' _Drink a $100 bottle of wine._ ' It didn't say you had to buy it yourself." She laughed. "It also said maybe you'd share it with a friend, so I hope that still stands."

Pam nodded vigorously. "I wouldn't have it any other way. This is wonderful. Thanks guys." Raj took the bottle back and opened it, pouring two glasses for the women. "Raj, you're not having any?" asked Pam. Raj shook his head. "I'll maybe take a sip from Hannah's glass, but I'm not a big wine aficionado, so you ladies enjoy."

"Gladly," said Pam, carrying her glass back to the table. The trio sat down to a wonderful vegetarian main dish of undhiyo, a delicious mixture of eggplant, pigeon peas, sweet potatoes and herbs in a spicy masala sauce. They also had amrud ka salad, which Raj had made with fresh guava and sprinkled with crunchy little pieces of fried okra. Pam wondered how Raj, a geotechnical engineer, had become such an amazing cook. That made her think of Dave, who could barely cook an egg. The kids were probably having some greasy take-out for supper tonight. Ahhh, who cares, as long as he gives them something to eat. I'm having too much fun here to lose sleep over it.

Pam and Hannah had taken several sips of the wine. Pam liked her usual inexpensive wine, but she had to admit this was a luxurious treasure. It was deep red; so red, in fact, that she could barely see through the glass. She could almost chew the tannins and wondered what it would do to her head later. She shrugged and took another sip, musing that the finish went on and on, even paired with Indian food.

They all sat back, full and satisfied, but there were plenty of leftovers for a Sunday lunch. Pam and Hannah started to clear the dishes, but Raj playfully pushed them out of the kitchen and told them to go relax. The women carried their wine glasses – and the bottle – to the living room and flopped down on the sofa. "See what I mean, Pam? Raj is going to cook me into fat pants with all his good food." Pam laughed. "Oh, well, you can still teach art classes to quirky college kids and housewives while wearing stretchy-waist pants. They expect women our age to be _pleasingly plump_."

The two women sat quietly for a few minutes, both realizing that they had eaten a bit too much, but enjoying the sensation of satiety. Hannah propped her feet on the coffee table and leaned back with her hands behind her head, looking at her friend.

"Raj can't hear anything from the kitchen," she said gently, adding, "especially with the dishwasher on. I told him you and I would want some 'girl time' after supper, so he's going to take the dogs and go down to watch TV in the rec room for a while after he finishes tidying up."

Pam knew what Hannah was getting at, but had no idea how or where to start. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before pouring herself another glass of wine and putting her feet up on the table alongside Hannah's.

"I think I'm in trouble, Hannah," she said quietly, staring at her feet. "You were right on the phone. It _is_ Martin. Nothing has happened. Well, that's not exactly true, but it's not anything irreversible. I'm really confused."

Hannah took her friend's hand and gave it a good squeeze. "Pam, you know you can trust me. Why don't you start from the beginning."

And she did. Pam told Hannah about Martin coming to work at Pinches, their first walk in the park and about going out to lunch and stealing the pepper mill. She hesitated before telling her about kissing Martin in the park, but felt some relief after letting out that particular secret.

"I guess I could have stopped it right then and there," she said, topping up the wine glasses for the two of them. The friends had taken their feet off the table and were leaning on the ends of the sofa, facing each other and curled up in blankets. Pam twirled her finger around the top of the wine glass. "It's...well...he looked at me in a way I haven't been looked at in a long time. It was sexy, but it was more than that. He looked at me with some sort of _reverence_. And he told me I was beautiful! I can't remember the last time anyone told me I was beautiful." She hesitated again and smiled at her friend. "Well, no one other than you, anyway."

Hannah smiled. "I'll say this. He certainly does know beauty when he sees it."

"Thanks. I think you mean that." She stared into her glass. "There's more, Hannah."

Hannah nodded. "I figured there was," she said quietly.

Pam didn't know how she was going to tell Hannah about the phone sex, so she started off by telling her about finally having some 'alone time' in the house a week ago Friday night and eating some great Thai food along with her favourite wine.

"Later on, I was reading in bed and the phone rang. I thought it was probably Dave, but it wasn't." Pam looked at her friend.

"It was Martin, wasn't it?" Hannah asked solemnly. "What did he want?"

Pam felt a flush of heat in her face. It was embarrassing, but it also seemed a little ridiculous to say out loud. The corners of her mouth turned up a little. "He...ummm...he wanted me to...ummm...to touch myself," she sputtered.

Hannah stared at her friend and leaned her cheek onto her hand. She had the look of someone who was trying very hard not to laugh. "Mmm-hmm," was all she dared say.

Pam shrugged her shoulders. "So I did." Hannah tried hard to keep a straight face, but lost her self control and started tittering. "Oh, my god. You didn't!" she laughed. Her face was getting hotter, but Pam smiled shyly and said, "Yes. I did."

"Phone sex!" Hannah exclaimed. "You actually had phone sex! Well, I guess that's one more off the list." She paused. "So...how was it?"

Pam curled up into her blanket a little more. "It was...it was hot," she replied slowly and deliberately. "I've never done that before and didn't know what to expect, but Hannah, it was so exciting. He made it all about me. It was as if he was begging me to pleasure myself – as if my pleasure was giving him the greatest of delight. It made me feel so desirable."

"That's wonderful," Hannah said dreamily. "I don't know if there anything much more satisfying to a woman than feeling sexy and desirable. When someone feels that way about you, it gets right into your soul. So, what was it like when you saw him at the office again on Monday morning?"

Pam sighed. "Well, I have to tell you about something else first." Pam relayed the story about meeting Martin at the conservation area and what went on in the car. She told her about how they held each other during the thunderstorm and how he wanted her in his life.

"Geez, Pam," she sighed, "this guy sounds like a real sweetie."

"I wouldn't have used that word to describe him, but I think you have the idea. Anyway, a couple of days ago, he invited me to come to his house for lunch and I went with him." Pam paused and nervously added, "It's pretty close to the office."

Hannah leaned forward. Her mouth was slightly open, waiting for what was to come next. "It started out innocently enough," said Pam, "but then things got kind of heated. We started making out like a couple of teenagers with the parents out of the house."

Pam told Hannah what Martin had said to her – and what she had said to him. Hannah was nodding, shaking her head, smiling and sucking in her lips as Pam spoke. "I'm so confused, Hannah. Part of me is thrilled and touched and wanting more and more, but another part of me is telling me to break this off immediately and run away fast." Pam set her wine glass on the table and looked at her friend. "What do you think? You've never given me anything other than your truthful, frank, flat-out opinion."

Hannah looked uncharacteristically serious and Pam was surprised at how long she pondered the question. When she finally spoke, she spoke firmly. "Pam, my friend, that part of you that's wild and thrilled? That's a very important part of you. It's a part you need to listen to carefully. That other part? The one that tells you to run away?" Pam nodded.

"Tell it to fuck off!"

Pam cocked her head to the side and furrowed her eyebrows. But as Hannah slowly started to smile again, so did Pam. Hannah stretched out her arms and Pam leaned forward, practically falling into her. She was laughing, but tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. As they parted, Pam wiped her face with both hands and sniffled a couple of times.

"Hannah, I can always count on you to cut everything right to the core. You don't pull any punches, do you?"

Hannah shook her head. "Not if I can help it." She turned to the table and poured the last dribbles of wine into their two glasses. The friends clinked the glasses together and relaxed back into their ends of the sofa again.

"So what now?" Pam said, as much to herself as to Hannah.

"Now? Now you and Martin have some territory to explore. Maybe even some ground rules to set – ones that you can both live with. It sounds to me, Pam, like he'd agree to anything that would make you happy, to keep you in his life."

Pam stared at the coffee table. "But what about Dave?" she said quietly.

Hannah exhaled noisily. "What about Dave? Does Dave make you feel like that? Does Dave make you feel like a goddess?" Pam looked at her passively. "I know you love Dave and he's a wonderful man, but that doesn't mean the love you get from Dave is the only love you should expect in this lifetime. There are all kinds of love in this world, Pam, and all kinds of relationships. Before I divorced my husband and met Raj, I probably wouldn't have dared say this, but I'm not really even sure we humans were meant to be strictly monogamous. If we were, how could it be possible to have such strong feelings for two people at the same time? It's your life, but I think this is a singular opportunity for you explore a fascinating side of yourself that you've probably been suppressing for a long time."

Pam had been very quiet as Hannah spoke and she continued to be for a while. She took the blanket off and tossed it to the top of the sofa.

"You know what? You're right about one thing. I do love Dave. I wouldn't still be married to him after all of these years if I didn't." Hannah was listening quietly. "But sometimes I don't know if Dave realizes how I'm feeling or even has a sense of what's truly important to me. He says he loves me if I say it first, but I wonder if that's more rote than something based on genuine emotions. He likes to live in his own little world, you know. I have a feeling that I could do almost anything without him noticing. And even if he did notice, he'd probably just turn and look the other way. I've told you before about his 'rose-coloured glasses' mindset."

"Hannah," she continued, "I'm going to be 50 this year, and I still don't have a fucking idea what the hell that means, but I do know one thing. This is the year when I'm not going to let anything slip through my fingers. When I told Martin about my Fifty List, he said he didn't think it was stupid at all – he said that it was a way of pushing yourself into the things you really want to do. Maybe I should have written, 'Find a criminally-gorgeous guy to adore you and live out your every fantasy with,' and I would have it stroked off my list by now." Pam turned to Hannah. "I can't let this slip through my fingers, can I?"

Hannah smiled at her friend lovingly and shook her head.

#  chapter fourteen

The two women sat silently for a moment but turned when they heard steps coming up the stairs. Raj paused in the entrance way to the living room, Mishay and Shahana at his feet. "How are you ladies doing?" he asked cheerfully. "We're great, Raj," said Hannah. "How about you come sit with us for a while."

"Sure! I heard the dishwasher shut off, so I'll go to the kitchen for a moment to put away the plates. Can I get you anything?"

"I wouldn't mind some club soda with fresh lemon," said Hannah. "That sounds great to me too, Raj," said Pam.

Raj gave them a 'thumbs up,' clattered around in the kitchen for a few minutes and returned with three glasses of soda with lemon wedges. He directed the dogs to their beds in the corner, where they both flopped, and sat down on the sofa between Hannah and Pam.

"Have you girls been having a nice chat?"

"Yes, Raj," said Hannah. "We've really been getting caught up to date." She looked at her friend. "Pam has been very busy at work. In fact, she's leading a very important project for her company."

"Good for you, Pam. So, you are enjoying your job, then?"

"Mmm-hmm," Pam replied. "There's never a dull moment lately, it seems."

Pam and Raj chatted about his skills as a cook. He explained that when he was in university, he enjoyed cooking. The three fellows he shared a house with discovered his talents and gave him a huge discount on the rent in exchange for making most of the meals. Much of it was Kraft Dinner and hamburgers, Raj admitted, but he did start to dabble in cuisine. Since coming to Canada, his family had switched to a completely North American diet. Luckily, his roommates were adventurous and Raj learned how to cook Indian food – both out of culinary boredom and a yearning to re-connect with his cultural heritage.

Pam was fascinated with Raj. He was a man of such contrasts. She had been at Hannah's house before when Raj had been going out to work and wearing a high-end suit. Here at home, however, he was wearing traditional Indian garments – a long, golden smock that fell nearly to his knees and white pajama-type bottoms. _That outfit_ _makes him look sexier than ever. Must be the $100 bottle of wine we guzzled_.

"Hannah, shall I show our lovely guest the other little gift we got her?" Hannah giggled and nodded. Pam looked at them both quizzically. Raj put a hand deep into the pocket of his smock and brought out a small tin box, which he set on the coffee table. Pam drew in a small breath as Raj opened the tin and revealed a half dozen joints lying atop a bag of weed.

"Hannah tells me you have recently expressed some interest in trying some marijuana," said Raj, picking up one of the joints. "Have you smoked it before?"

"No, I haven't, Raj. I thought about it a few times in college, but I guess I was a bit scared to try it. I've seen kids smoking it in the park near work a few times. They look so cute and happy. It got me curious." She looked at Hannah, who continued to giggle. "You guys are too much – first the wine and then this. My Fifty List is going to be gone long before my birthday."

"Oh, Pam...I thought your list was supposed to be a secret," said Hannah. Pam looked at Raj, who was looking down and pretending not to smile. "Hmmm....I have a feeling it's a _very badly kept_ secret in this house," she replied. Hannah giggled again. "What can I say, Pam? He _weasled_ it out of me."

Raj took a lighter out from beneath the bag of pot and expertly lit the joint, getting a good ember going with one long drag. He handed it to Pam, who held the joint between her fingers and admired it for a moment before putting it to her lips. She drew the smoke in deeply and held it there, trying desperately not to choke. After a few seconds, she delighted in the feel of it in her mouth and throat. Pam had mentioned to Dave a couple of times that it might be interesting to try smoking pot. Dave always wrinkled his nose, said it stank and made people act like fools.

Pam held the smoke in her lungs for a moment and blew it out slowly between her lips. She knew it was impossible to get high off one toke, but she felt a pleasant, lightheaded sensation. She smiled and handed the joint to Raj, who passed it to Hannah.

"Did you know, Pam, that cannabis has a very long history in India?" Pam shook her head. "It is said that people in India used cannabis in religious ceremonies as much as 2,000 years before the birth of Christ. Evidence of this was found written in ancient Hindu texts."

Hannah had taken a few hits off the joint and handed it back to Raj. "Here, Pam; you keep this one and I will light another." Pam smoked the joint as Raj continued his story. "Some people thought a guardian angel lived within the plant's leaves. This angel was created by God to give joy to human beings and to give compassion to them when they were in pain." Pam was fascinated with the story and couldn't take her eyes off of Raj. _He is so, so beautiful. How can he be so beautiful?_

"In a well-known Indian legend, a very powerful God named Shiva had a terrible argument with his wife, Parvati. The ground shook as he stomped away from her in anger. He was so frustrated and confused that he lost himself in the wild lands. Night soon came and Shiva grew weary. He lay down beneath a large, tall plant to sleep. When he awoke, he was very hungry and ate some of the plant." Pam was hanging on his every word. The rest of the room seemed to fade away as Raj told his story in hypnotic tones.

"Shortly after eating the plant, Shiva felt a great euphoria overtake him. He gathered an abundance of the plant's leaves and seeds and began to wander back in the direction of his home, nibbling on the leaves as he walked. The first thing he saw when he came home was his shapely and statuesque wife, standing stoically in front of their house, with her pet tiger at her side. Gazing upon Parvati, Shiva suddenly realized what a very beautiful goddess she was."

"Shiva dropped the leaves and the seeds and fell down at Parvati's feet, clutching her legs and begging forgiveness. His wife extended her hand and pulled him upward, embracing him and forgiving him. Shiva wept tears of happiness, which fell to the ground and sprouted the seeds at their feet. From that day onwards, mankind was blessed with the gift of cannabis, which brought them happiness, joy and liberation from pain."

Pam's head was spinning at the sheer beauty of Raj's story. She'd never heard such a touching tale in her life. "Oh, Raj, that is so amazing. You are so lucky to have such a deep and rich culture. What an exquisite story to share!"

Raj nodded deeply. "Thank you very much, Pam."

Suddenly, there was a loud snort and an explosion of laughter from the other end of the sofa.

"What a total load of horseshit," Hannah cackled.

Pam gawked at her friend, shocked by her reaction. "Pam, I've heard that story over and over, and each time, I hear a few more wacky little details that my man here has dreamed up."

Pam looked back at Raj, who shrugged indifferently. "Well, _some_ of it is part of the legend. I mean, we Indians have to have _some_ excuse for smoking pot."

All three of them erupted into laughter. The women leaned on Raj with their arms around him and he was grinning. At one point, Hannah encouraged Pam to retrieve the list from her purse so that she could ceremoniously strike a couple more items off the list.

Pam left for a moment and returned with the list and a pen. She flopped down between Raj and Hannah. Raj averted his eyes. _As if you don't know what's on this list_ , _you beautiful, goofy man._ Pam set the yellow sheet on the coffee table next to the tin of pot. Hannah pushed herself tightly into Pam's side and gave her a squeeze. The two friends looked at each other and giggled like school girls. Pam put a line through the top two items on the list. They looked at the list and erupted into a fit of laughter.

**15 Things to Do Before I am 50**

- Drink a $100 bottle of wine (maybe by myself-or maybe with a friend)

- Smoke pot (definitely with a friend)

- Read a 500-page book in one sitting

- Meet Mulder

- Jump out of a perfectly good airplane

- Say no when you feel obligated to say yes

- Have phone sex

- Steal something – something fun

- Get a classy tattoo in a private place

- Have the house to myself for an entire weekend

- Do something completely stupid

- Buy a pair of expensive silk undies, wear them once

and throw them away

- Play hooky from work (and do something fun)

- Figure out what I want to be when I grow up

- Eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz dark chocolate ice-cream

"I wonder what 'do something completely stupid' is going to be," said Pam. "I've done so many stupid things that none of them stands out against the rest."

Hannah chuckled. "You're very creative, sweetie. I'm sure you'll come up with something perfectly outrageous. Raj pretended to be entranced with a cat twirling around his feet as Pam folded the sheet and stuck it in her back pocket.

Raj got up and looked through his CD collection. He put on the _Strange Days_ album by The Doors. The trio listened to music and smoked two more joints before retiring to their rooms for the night.

Pam awoke the next morning feeling slightly disoriented. She half-opened her eyes and looked around at the burnt orange walls and the posters with inspirational messages that were pinned up on them. _Hannah's place. I'm at Hannah's place_. She felt something move near her feet and looked down to see two cats curled up together at the end of the bed. They were purring in their sleep. Pam slowly sat up on the side of the bed but felt woozy and flopped back down, staring at the ceiling. The activities of the previous evening slowly came crashing back to her and she smiled. _Leave it to Hannah to create such a memorable visit_.

Pam sat up again, feeling more balanced this time. She grabbed a couple of towels Hannah had left for her and dragged herself to the bathroom. She wasn't hung over, but her head felt decidedly strange. After relieving herself, Pam stepped immediately into the shower. She turned it on and let hot water blast onto her face and chest. _Oh, this is bliss._ _Nobody to bug me about what's in the fridge, nobody to cook for, nobody asking me if they can come in and use the bathroom_.

By the time she exited the bathroom, Pam was feeling refreshed and energized. The cloudy feeling in her head was gone. She tickled the cats on her bed, waking them, and gently shooed them out of the room so she could close the door and get dressed in private – without the cats watching.

Hannah was in the kitchen when Pam came downstairs. "Hey, sweetie-girl, how'd you sleep?" Hannah was at the stovetop, throwing red peppers and mushrooms into a frying pan. "Like the dead," Pam replied. "You sure know how to throw a party," she grinned.

"Anything for you, sweetheart. Raj is still sleeping. I'm making an omelette that you and I can share. That sound good?" Pam nodded. "That sounds wonderful."

The two women sat in the kitchen and ate, chatted and drank black tea with wild honey. Pam was aware they were both purposefully keeping the conversation light. Raj came downstairs after about an hour, greeted them cheerfully and made himself a breakfast of leftover Indian food.

"Hannah, I've decided I'm going to take my long route home today. I don't feel like getting on the highway."

"I'm glad to hear that. I don't like to think about you on the 401. There have been so many bad accidents and pile-ups on it in the past few years," said Hannah. "Are you thinking of visiting some of the farmers' markets on the way home?"

"Yeah, I think I might do something like that. I feel like a nice, relaxing trip with a couple of stops. I haven't been to St. Jacob's in a while. I always enjoy seeing all the food and craft vendors. And with all the Mennonites walking around, it seems like a million miles away from reality in some respects."

"It is a charming little place, that's for sure," said Hannah.

Pam left for home an hour later. Hannah came out to the driveway, hugging her before she left. Hannah was still holding her when she said softly, "Pam, honey, I want you to be happy. I want you to do what's best for _you_ , not for anyone else. I want you to squeeze as much happiness out of this lifetime as you can. Will you promise me you'll do that?"

Pam looked directly into her friend's eyes and nodded. "I'm going to try to do the best I can for myself. I'm going to try to be good to _me_. Thanks to you, I'm feeling like that's something I owe myself." She paused. "I love you, you know." Hannah looked misty-eyed as Pam gave her friend one last quick hug before she got into her car. Hannah laughed as Pam waved out the window and honked her horn on and off all the way down the street.

Pam did stop in St. Jacob's and spent a couple of hours walking around and sampling some of the treats she saw here and there. She bought some fresh bread and homemade tarts to take home. Her drive was relaxing and uncomplicated, travelling all the back roads that headed east. Pam arrived home late afternoon, feeling much less stressed than she would have if she had taken the highway.

Dave was sitting on an easy chair watching TV in the living room when she entered the house. "Hi hon," he called out. "You have fun with Hannah?" Pam walked into the living room. "Yes, we had a great time," she said, sitting on the sofa. "It's been a while since I spent that much time with her. We really got caught up to date. The kids home?"

"Nah. Samantha's over at Julie's and Dylan staying at Scott's house tonight. Just you and I for supper again. There's some pork chops defrosting in the fridge."

Pam looked at the TV. "What are you watching?"

"The Big East college conference. Looks like it's going to be a good one. There've been a lot of interesting trades this year." Pam nodded passively. She had no idea what a 'Big East' conference was. "I guess I'll put my stuff away. I bought some nice bread at the St. Jacob's market that we can have with those pork chops." She walked over to Dave and he looked up at her, smiling pleasantly. She leaned down and he raised a hand, cupping her cheek and kissing her softly. "That sounds really nice. Thanks, hon." He paused. "You look tired. Maybe you should lie down for a bit before supper." Pam nodded. "I think I'll do that," she said, patting him on the arm before heading to the bedroom.

The evening passed quietly. They watched a couple of old _Dallas_ episodes on DVD. Pam read for a while before Dave came to bed. They kissed and said "luv ya" to each other before turning off their bedside lamps. Pam sank her head into her down pillow and drifted off quickly. On the way to work the next morning, she had a strange feeling – as if very little time had passed between falling asleep and climbing into her car for the commute. She chuckled. _Must be the pot._

Pam scanned through several e-mails on her computer. The Brown Shoes account had been on a very intense schedule and the individual projects were really coming together. The principals wanted to launch the ideas from the consultants as soon as possible and Pam was happy the project was well under control. She was proud of the way the project had turned out. Martin had been right from the beginning – she could do this.

Mid-morning, she took a bathroom break, more to get out of her chair and stretch than anything else. Looking at herself in the mirror, she thought about how Martin was always visiting her office, but how she hardly ever went to his. Leaving the bathroom, she strolled down the hall and stopped in his doorway. He was engrossed by something on his computer. She cleared her throat and broke the spell his computer had over him.

"Why, Ms. Williams, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" he said evenly. As Martin pushed his chair out from behind his computer, the first thing Pam noticed was the tie he was wearing and she started to chuckle softly. She shook her head as she said, "Oh, Martin, I think you've outdone yourself this time." He smiled and said, "Whatever do you mean?"

"That tie! Oh, good lord, what is with you and your ties?" This one was absurdly wide and featured thick red, green and purple diagonal stripes. Even from the doorway, it appeared to be pure polyester. "Your suits look like they must have cost you big bucks, your shirts are certainly fine linen, but the ties you wear never quite match. This one takes the cake. Did you go to a garage sale this weekend?

"No. Not a garage sale. Just one of my special little places." Pam was laughing softly. "Ms. Williams," he said, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head, "when I am here at Pinches Public Relations, I must look the part. The suit comes with the territory. I really have nothing against suits, but if it was up to me, I'd work in jeans and a T-shirt. The problem with suits is that they're boring." Pam nodded in agreement.

"I don't like to think of myself as boring. You get to express yourself by wearing a lot of colourful tops and those little skirts that cling to your shapely bottom and make me not want to be a good boy." He paused, looking her up and down. "I, on the other hand, have a choice of grey, black or brown. When I wear one of these ties, it screams out, to me at least – and probably most importantly to me – 'you are not boring.' So, it's a morale booster – and maybe a little stab at being rebellious in the office."

Pam half-smiled at him. "You are a rebel, Mr. Campbell!" After a moment, she asked, "So, what's your schedule like this week?"

He sighed. "Hectic. I'm scrambling to finish up my end of the Brown project. They want everything in their hands by the end of the day tomorrow. I guess that means I'm glued to my computer until then. By Wednesday, I should be ready to start on something else."

"Wednesday?" Pam pondered for a moment. "Actually, I'm gearing up for a new project. Would you like to go on a little field trip with me on Wednesday?"

"Sure!"

"Okay, I'll send you an appointment request on Outlook. I know you're busy, so I'll try not to bother you until then."

Martin stared at her steadily. "Ms. Williams, you could never bother me."

Pam met his gaze and felt her chest flush with warmth. She nodded briefly and left to return to her office. She sat down at her desk and opened up the 'new appointment' section of Outlook. She set the appointment time for Wednesday, 1 to 5 p.m., and typed in Martin's name in the 'To' box. She stared at the subject line for a moment before typing in 'Field Trip re: fact-finding for potential new project' and quickly hitting the send key. Not more than 30 seconds later, a pop-up on her screen notified her, 'Appointment accepted – Martin Campbell.' Pam made a small sound in her throat before turning her attention back to her e-mail and getting on with her work day.

# chapter fifteen

The next two days passed in a flurry of e-mails and consultants diving in and out of her office. While a few people would still be working on the Brown account for another week, most of them were very close to deadline and needed Pam's approval on the sign-offs.

By Wednesday morning, the stream of consultants passing through her door had slowed to a trickle. Pam was happy to have a bit of breathing room and an office mostly to herself. Martin popped by around 11 a.m. and stood in her doorway. "So, this field trip –what's the new account?"

"I'd like to talk about it, Martin, but I'm kind of swamped right now and I need to get through all this before we leave," she said, shuffling papers around her desk. "Do you mind if we talk about it in the car?"

"No problem. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm not very busy right now myself. I'll come back just before one, okay?"

Pam nodded and smiled. "That sounds good. See you then."

Martin left. Pam gathered up the papers she had been shuffling and shoved them into the outbox on the far corner of her desk. "I hope you know what you're doing," she whispered.

Martin showed up promptly, just before one. Pam gathered her purse, lunch bag and a large file folder and walked to the front of the office. They both said goodbye to Beverly as they left. Pam watched Beverly out of the corner of her eye, and caught the Pinches Public Relations' receptionist staring at Martin's ass as they waited for the elevator. Once inside, Martin reached over and took Pam's hand, giving it a small squeeze. He let go before the elevator doors opened at the ground floor.

It was raining very lightly and they walked briskly to Pam's car. Pam threw her stuff in the back before they got in. Martin put on his seat belt, but Pam sat in the driver's seat, staring straight ahead. Several seconds passed before Martin turned to her and said, "What is it? Did you forget something?" Pam turned to him and said nothing for a moment.

"I lied to you."

"Lied to me? Lied to me about what?"

Pam's heart was thumping hard. "There's no new account. That was something I put on Outlook so both of us could legitimately be away from Pinches for a few hours. Or, at least – that's the way it would look to anyone who checked our online calendars."

Martin looked at Pam and then out the front windshield, as small raindrops hit the glass and trickled down. He turned back to her, and for the first time, she thought he looked flushed in the face. "You set me up!" he said.

Pam nodded. "That I did."

Martin reached over and took her right hand into both of his. "What is the destination of this little 'field trip,' if I might ask, Ms. Williams?" Pam was silent for a moment. "Your place?" she said quietly. He let go of her hand and sat back, tightening his seatbelt.

"Make it so," he replied. Pam started the car and they drove to Greektown.

The two walked up the stairs of Martin's front porch. Martin had been jangling his keys in his pocket and took them out to open the door. As they stepped inside and shook their damp jackets, Pam looked around and asked, "Where's Amber?" Martin hung the jackets on a coat tree. "This is one of her days for doggie daycare." Pam nodded and followed Martin into the kitchen.

He leaned back against the kitchen counter and they looked at each other for a minute, not speaking. Martin slowly outstretched his hands, inviting her into his embrace. Pam set her purse on the table and walked into his arms. Martin buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply. He made a long "mmmmm" sound and pulled her closer. Moments later, he kissed her ear, her cheek and finally found his way to her lips. Pam sighed into his mouth and trailed her hands across his back.

They stayed that way for several minutes, kissing each other first softly, then passionately. Neither wanted to come up for air, but they were both starting to get breathless. Pam felt more lightheaded than she had after taking her first toke at Hannah's house on Saturday night. Martin drew his lips away, but embraced her tightly, both of them breathing heavily into each other's ears.

His arms still wrapped around her, he pulled his head back enough to speak comfortably. "Pam. There's something I need to tell you. Something you need to know." Pam noticed the serious look on Martin's face and she nodded. "I'm listening," she whispered.

Martin looked directly into her eyes as he spoke. "It's been a while for me. No...actually, it's been a very long while." He stopped for a moment and looked almost embarrassed. "I haven't seen any action other than my own right hand in a long, long time."

Pam gazed at him quizzically. "Exactly how long are we talking about here? Weeks? Months? Years?" she asked with a soft smile.

"The latter," he replied.

"Years!" Her face expressed astonishment. "How many years?"

Martin pursed his lips and then drew them back in. "About three."

Pam couldn't help her reaction. Her jaw dropped. "Martin...three years! Why?"

Martin rubbed his hands up and down her back. "I was in this long-term relationship. It ended...suddenly. I never found anyone else who I wanted to be that close to." He paused and added, "until now."

"I suppose I should feel honoured," she said.

"Ummm....there's one other thing. Since I haven't been with anyone in so long, I don't have any protection in the house. You know...condoms?"

"Hmmm...let's see...if you haven't been with anyone for three years, and I haven't been with anyone outside my marriage for about a hundred, and since I had my tubes tied more than a decade ago, then I guess we're okay, don't you think?"

Martin nodded and leaned in to kiss her again. He kissed her tenderly. This is heaven. Even if it's only this, I'm in heaven. As their lips parted, Martin pulled away slightly and took her hand, leading her out of the room. They were quiet as they climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

They stopped at the side of his bed and Martin took off his suit jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Pam looked at his face. She saw pure lust in his eyes. It had an immediate effect on her. She felt a surge of heat between her legs. He grasped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up over her head and off her arms, letting it drop to the floor. He gazed hungrily at her breasts as he unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, pushing them down. Pam stepped out of them and pushed off her trouser socks, leaving her standing in front of him in a lacy black bra and matching underwear.

Martin took a step back and looked her up and down. Pam was surprised that she didn't feel self-conscious. The way he was staring at her body made her incredibly turned on. Pam abruptly grabbed him by the tie and pulled him toward her. "Finally, I get to strip you of one of these goofy ties," she said, undoing the knot, slipping it off his neck and tossing it across the room. She unbuttoned his shirt slowly, letting her fingers linger in his downy chest hair until she reached the last button. Martin undid his own cuffs and let the shirt join the pile of garments gathering at their feet.

Pam grabbed his belt and pulled him toward her even closer, making firm contact with his lips as she did so. She explored his mouth fully with her tongue as she unbuckled the belt and unzipped the zipper, the pants falling, leaving him in his boxers. As he lifted a foot to remove his socks and free his ankles, she took the opportunity to slip her hand between his legs and gently fondle him through his shorts, eliciting a low moan from his throat.

He reached around behind her and unclasped her bra, swiftly pulling it forward. As he pulled the straps off her arms, he bent down and cupped both breasts in his hands, bringing his mouth to her nipples and sucking them alternately. Pam moaned loudly, threw her head back and tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him in for greater contact. He continued sucking her nipples, and slipped his hands down the back of her underwear, massaging her buttocks. That didn't last long. He hastily pulled his hands out and pushed her underwear down, a little more roughly than he had intended.

As she pulled back to get her feet out of her undies, Martin stared at her body again. "My god, you're beautiful," he sighed. He took her by the shoulders and guided her as they moved toward the bed and reclined diagonally onto it. Up on one elbow, he gazed at her body and stroked his hand up and down her torso. "Your skin is so soft and smooth. It's exquisite," he murmured.

Okay – if I wasn't in heaven before, now I really am. Martin reached out and moved back a loose lock of the hair that was continually falling over her eye. Pam closed her eyes and pushed her head into his hand as he stroked her hair. She moved slightly upward and grazed Martin's lips. Their lips parted for a moment and then met again, this time fully.

They embraced like they had the last time they were on his bed, but this time skin was touching skin and their bodies were naturally molding to each other. Their kisses weren't wild and passionate, but they were long and deliberate, neither one of them wanting the moment to end. Eventually, their lips parted.

"Pam, I know I've tried to be a _good boy_ , but the _good boy_ just left the room. Since that day in the park when we kissed, I've spent many nights alone in this bed, fantasizing about exploring every inch of your body, pleasuring you in every way imaginable."

Pam smiled. "Hmmm....I guess you have some work ahead of you then, Mr. Campbell. You'd better get to it." She wrapped both arms around him and swiftly pulled him on top of her. Martin took the opportunity to crush his mouth into hers. Pam had her own fantasies and one of them was about feeling Martin's weight on top of her. Her hands roamed across his back, kneading the muscles along the sides of his back, eliciting a moan that she felt vibrating onto her lips.

Martin held the sides of her head, his fingers in her hair while kissing her. She knew it was impossible to faint lying down, but Pam experienced a wonderful surge of dizziness.

Martin reveled in the way Pam's form felt beneath him. He could discern her individual breasts pressing into his chest and her pubic bone grinding up into him. _Joy_ was the word he heard in his head. Pam's hands travelled lower and massaged Martin's ass. And, she wasn't just massaging his ass, she was pressing him into her lower body.

Martin hadn't even been aware of his erection until she did that, but suddenly, his entire world was in his groin. He pulled his lips away from her and heard himself groan loudly. Martin ground his teeth together as he looked down her.

"Pam," he growled. "Don't do that. You'll make me crazy."

Pam was grinning wickedly. "I _want_ to make you crazy."

Martin smiled and shook his head. " _No!_ "

Martin quickly pulled himself off Pam and rolled onto his back. Pam looked at him quizzically. Martin had his eyes squeezed shut, with the inside of his elbow covering them. He was taking in and releasing long, slow breaths. "I told you it's been a long time. I don't want this to end...abruptly."

Opening his eyes, Martin placed a hand on Pam's hip, leaning over and kissing her on the forehead. He pulled back for a moment to look at her face. She was smiling ever so slightly. He leaned in again and started placing tiny kisses on her eyelids, cheeks and along her jaw line. He paused and kissed her fully on the lips. Feeling her lips part, Martin slowly let his tongue graze across hers and teased the underside of her top lip. Pam was lying very still and her eyes were half-closed as Martin moved his lips along her neck and stopped below her right ear. Martin heard a tiny gasp and knew he had found a sweet spot.

He alternated between twirling tiny circles with his tongue and sucking her earlobe. Pam was moaning. When he pulled the side of her ear into his mouth and started nibbling, Pam shivered and moaned louder. Martin whispered extremely quietly into her ear, "I like the sound of that moan, Pam. I want to hear you make sounds you've never made with anyone else."

Pam thought that was the sexiest thing she had ever heard.

Martin pulled back and up onto his knees, gazing at the woman on the bed in front of him. His expression was one of pure awe. Pam licked her lips and grabbed Martin's shoulders, pulling him down to feel the weight of him on her once again. Their lips met and this time Pam thrust her tongue into Martin's mouth, sucking hard on his lips and exploring wildly. Martin felt his resolve slipping, but passionately plundered her mouth.

He reached down and fondled the soft flesh of a breast and played with the nipple between his thumb and forefinger while kissing her. Pam made a low grunting noise into his mouth and he felt his cock twitch. Martin broke away and trailed purposeful kisses down Pam's throat and into her cleavage. His hands fondled her breasts while he kissed between them. He opened his mouth wide on the outside of her right breast, sucking and pushing in slightly. Pam wriggled beneath him, giggled briefly, and then started moaning again. He moved to the other side, performing the same action and eliciting the same wriggling again. He kissed circles around the outsides of her breasts, taking his time to gently nibble few places where she seemed to be extra sensitive.

Her delicate pink nipples were very erect. He hovered above the right one, breathing hotly onto it, disciplining himself to wait _just – one – more – moment_. A hand pressed down at the nape of his neck and he opened his mouth to devour Pam's nipple. To Martin, the pleasure was powerful. To Pam, it was nearly unbearable. She basked in the sensations Martin was creating in her breasts and the electrifying jolts that were shooting down her torso.

Pam wove her fingers into Martin's hair and he pressed his face deeper into her breasts. A wave of happiness overtook her. Martin was aware of Pam's chest rising quicker as he continued to plunder her breasts. He suddenly felt the need for her lips again and lifted his head to kiss her firmly. After a moment, he moved and buried his nose in her hair.

"Mmmmm...you smell good," he whispered into her ear. "I'll bet you taste good too!"

Pam gasped. She knew what he meant. The thought of his mouth between her legs was almost too much to bear.

Glacially, he moved his lips down her body. Her breath came out in short pants as he inched his way along. He paused above her pubic hair and Pam shivered as she felt his hot breath on her skin. Martin felt her womanly hair touch his lips and he dragged his lower face back and forth over it, breathing hotly on her most sensitive of areas.

"I see you keep yourself neatly trimmed," said Martin, rubbing his thumb over her labia.

"Ummm.....a little....just the _landing strip_...aaaaaaahhhh...Martin...you feel so good between my legs."

Pam's sweet scent filled his nostrils and he brought his lips down squarely onto her flesh, reaching around and grabbing her buttocks firmly. Pam was making a small but high-pitched noise. Martin hungrily lapped at her with his tongue, sucking and nibbling, fulfilling a need as great as hers. He circled her entrance with two fingers, marveling at the slickness of it. Pam was struggling to push her body toward his fingers. Martin quickly relented and eased his fingers deep into her, exploring the smooth ridges inside. Pam moaned and whimpered. She made small grunting noises as he pushed his fingers in and out.

Emotion overwhelmed him. He was pleasuring Pam. She was writhing beneath him and emitting the sexiest noises he had ever heard. This was better than any fantasy. Martin felt drunk with the taste of her filling his mouth. He was also aware of being extremely hard and couldn't help but grind himself into the mattress. Many minutes passed in ecstasy for both of them.

"Martin," Pam said breathlessly. "Martin, you've got to stop. There's something else I really want. Please, Martin, please stop. Oh, really...you have to stop _right now_!"

Some part of what Pam was saying eventually registered in his brain and he stopped, looking up at her in anticipation.

Pam looked down at her workmate between her legs. The stuff of fantasy gnawed at her brain. She saw her own slickness on Martin's chin. He was staring right at her, but he didn't look quite all there – as if he had been awoken from a strange dream.

"Martin," she whispered anxiously, "come back up here." Martin blinked, nodded and made his way back up, placing his head on the pillow beside her. He seemed a bit winded. "Martin, this has been fantastic. You've been great. It's just that there's something else I'd really like."

"Anything, Pam. Anything for you. Tell me what you want."

She leaned forward close to Martin's ear, whispering softly. She pulled back and laid her head on her pillow, awaiting his response.

"Really?" Martin grinned widely. "That's what you want?'

Pam nodded. Martin smiled widely. "Hmmm...who am I to deny a lady her pleasure? I'm more than happy to comply."

"Move into the middle of the bed, Martin." He nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Martin crawled over and lay down, propping up his head and shoulders on the pillows. Pam glared at him wickedly and licked her lips. She wriggled over and came up on her knees, placing her hands on his silky, black boxer shorts. She dragged her hand over his erection, causing Martin to let out a harsh breath.

Pam grabbed the sides of his shorts and tugged them down, throwing them onto the ever-increasing pile of clothing strewn across the floor. She circled her hand over Martin's lower belly, stopping to play with little tufts of hair. His cock was angled off to the side, but laying almost flat against his strong stomach muscles. It twitched as she stroked all the way around it. Martin was breathing hard.

Pam brought her hand up Martin's shaft and rubbed her thumb over its wet, glistening tip. She cupped his penis with both hands, bent over and kissed the tip firmly but gently. "Gaaahhhh," she heard from above. Pam came back onto her knees, rubbing her tongue over her lips, sucking the taste of him into her mouth.

Martin's fists were clenching. "Woman, you are going to kill me," he groaned.

"If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already."

Pam set her hands on his chest and brought a leg over his body, straddling him. Martin swiftly threw his arms around her and pulled her down, kissing her deeply. As they kissed, Pam rubbed her bottom on Martin's cock, making him groan and squirm.

Pam broke the embrace, pushing herself up and back, her knees on either side of Martin's thighs. She wriggled forward, her centre making contact with his hard shaft. Placing her hands on his chest again, she rubbed her pussy up and down along his length.

Martin looked between the breasts dangling in front of him onto the visual feast of his and Pam's most private parts rubbing together. He'd watched porn on the Internet, but he had never seen anything so perfectly erotic. He wanted to tell Pam that, but couldn't get any words out of his mouth.

Pam grabbed his cock with her right hand, rubbing the tip firmly against her clit. Both of them were moaning now.

"Pam?" Martin managed to croak out.

"Mmmmmmm?"

"I'm, uh...I'm feeling a little...needy."

Needy?" Pam giggled. She lifted her pelvis, hovering above her target. Locking eyes with Martin, she slowly began to lower herself on him. Martin's head snapped back and his mouth opened wide as she enveloped him. Pam tucked in her chin and shivered. She balanced herself with her hands on his chest and started moving, her clit making contact with his pelvis with each stroke. She was aware of sweat forming between her breasts, which Martin fondled.

"Pam?" Martin sounded desperate. "You have no idea what...you're...doing to me. I...ahhhh...I don't know how long I can hold on."

Pam was panting. "Don't worry, Martin. I think this is going to be a really short ride for me." Pam's nipples were suddenly very hard between Martin's fingertips. Her back was arching and she was making short, sharp squeaking noises. Martin thrust up harder into her, his own needs forgotten for a moment, fascinated with the beautiful contortions on Pam's face. Her body jerked and he felt the tell-tale sign of her pussy tightly gripping him. He felt her waves of pleasure pulsing on his cock, squeezing him, and watched her eyes roll back into her head.

She slowed and looked into his eyes. That alone was almost enough to send him over the edge – but he wanted more. He grabbed Pam's shoulders and pulled her down, pushing his mouth up onto hers. Her hands dropped to the bed and he reached out, entangling his fingers in hers.

Martin felt the heat in his groin intensify and his balls tighten. He kissed Pam even more passionately, pushing up into her firmly with each thrust and groaning into her mouth. His head filled with a dizzying spectrum of colours as he finally let go, feeling hot jets of fire pulsate through his cock. He squeezed Pam's hands tightly and kissed her deeply as the final waves of ecstasy washed over him.

They released their hands, Martin wrapping his arms around Pam's back and Pam resting her fingers in Martin's hair. Their lips parted and they looked into each other's eyes. Both wore a happy, calm expression. Pam kissed Martin's forehead before rolling onto her side, pulling Martin along with her, keeping her leg draped over him and their bodies close.

The wetness of Martin's cock rubbed against her belly. The sensation was very erotic and created renewed ribbons of pleasure between Pam's legs. She pressed herself into his firm thigh to relieve the throbbing.

They lay that way for several minutes, tenderly caressing each other, their lips touching occasionally. "That was even better than I had imagined it could be, Pam," Martin said softly. He smiled. "And, believe me...I have quite the imagination."

"Martin, do you have any idea what that smile does to me? What it's always done to me?"

He smiled even wider. "Actually, I might. I've been trying to use it to my advantage."

Pam laughed and smacked him gently on the head. "You've been playing with me?"

"Only when you gave me the opportunity," he countered. After a pause, he asked, "Pam, are you happy we did this or are you having any regrets?"

Pam shook her head. "No regrets. None at all. Not that I've been unhappy, but this is the happiest I've been in a while."

Martin gave her a lingering kiss. "It makes me feel really good to hear you say that."

"Martin? I have to ask. You said it had been a long time. Was this difficult for you because of that?"

He stroked her cheek. "No. I thought it might be, but it wasn't. I guess it was just the right time."

"Hey, snuggle back into me again," Martin added. "I want to put my arms around you and have us drift off together for a while." Pam smiled and nodded, turning over and backing into him. He hugged her close. After a few minutes, she noticed his breathing was slower. His warmth radiated onto her back and her body relaxed completely. A few minutes later, they were both asleep.

Pam awoke first. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand – 3:55 p.m. She closed her eyes for one more minute before lifting her head to look at Martin. Sleeping, he looked like he had in the Audi at the conservation area – sweet and boyish.

Pam gently blew on his face, gradually stirring him to wakefulness. When his eyes finally opened, his face had a look of pure contentment. They each stretched and kissed briefly. "Looks like we woke up just in time for me to get you back to work," she said.

"That's good. I wouldn't want to disappoint my _team leader_ ," he countered.

"I'm going to go into the bathroom to freshen up," said Pam. "I'll see you in a few minutes." She got out of bed and scooped up her bra and underwear off the floor before heading to the bathroom.

Martin rolled over onto his stomach and hugged the pillow. It had been ages since he had felt this good. He secretly feared what his performance would be like after such a long dry spell, so he was glad that Pam took the helm. With her on top, he felt as if nothing could possibly go wrong.

Pam came back into the room wearing her bra and underwear and sat on the edge of the bed. She touched Martin's back and massaged it. Martin suddenly felt boneless and closed his eyes, taking great pleasure in the feeling of her hand on his skin. After a few minutes, he rolled onto his back. A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth and he took her wrist, pulling her down onto the bed.

Martin ran his hand up and down her torso. He leaned in and kissed her deeply. He worked his lips across to her ear and whispered.

"You didn't let me finish!"

#  chapter sixteen

Pam was confused for a moment, but soon felt a surge of heat in her face. She swallowed hard as Martin's lips made their way to the base of her neck.

"Martin," she gasped. "Martin...you don't have to do this. What we had earlier was enough."

Martin was between her breasts by then and looked up.

"Enough?" he said, shaking his head. "I don't want you to just have _enough_. I want you to experience more pleasure than you've ever imagined." He grinned. "Besides – I never like to let a job go unfinished. It's the compulsiveness in me."

Pam's head fell back into the pillow. She stared at the headboard as he placed tiny kisses on her skin, inching farther and farther down her body. Martin pulled her underwear down and off her legs. He leaned in and rubbed the tip of his nose up and down her crease. She instinctively spread her legs and he climbed in between them, lying on his belly.

Martin moistened his fingers with saliva and gently stroked the insides of her labia. He delighted in the feeling of her soft tissues on his fingertips. He had been so overcome with passion earlier, he hadn't taken much time to look at her female parts. Her labia were very pink, but as he continued stroking them, they became darker.

Martin shifted his focus to her inner lips and played with the thin tissues, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers. He pulled on them very gently, noticing how the skin moved over her clitoris as he did so. Pam moaned softly and Martin pressed his lower face into her entire vulva. He opened his mouth wide and rested his tongue flat against her. He added a little pressure. Pam lifted her hips toward him and exhaled loudly.

His eyes closed, Martin explored around with his tongue and found the hard ridge at the top of her crease. He flicked his tongue back and forth and up and down.

"Martin...ohhhh...Martin...that's perfect." Pam's breathing was steady but loud. "Please...don't move your tongue away...keep it right there."

Pam was amazed at how aroused she had become in just a few minutes. Martin was doing exactly what she had asked. Dave flashed through her mind for a moment. Her husband went down on her occasionally, but he usually moved his tongue all over the place, not concentrating on the spot she most wanted to be stimulated. The thought of her husband didn't kill the moment. Strangely, it seemed to only heighten it.

Martin spread her labia wide with his thumbs and continued his assault with his tongue. When Pam started to pant rapidly, he moved his tongue down just a few millimetres and flicked it rapidly on the underside of her clit. Pam pushed her hands down on his head and screamed out his name. She made a noise in the back of her throat like someone being stabbed, but pushed her hips upward firmly onto his mouth. Martin pursed his lips and sucked hard on her nub. Pam shook and writhed uncontrollably. Martin felt her tissues twitching rapidly on his lips.

Pam's breathing started to slow and Martin languidly moved the flat of his tongue around her folds and creases. Her body convulsed several more times. He gasped in surprise when he lapped at the opening of her vagina and tasted her dewy juices. She was right – it did taste a wee bit like oranges!

Martin moved his tongue away and kissed the insides of her thighs. Her hands were still on the back of his head. Her fingers grasped his hair and pulled upward. "Enough!" she breathed. "Believe me...that really _is_ enough."

Martin chuckled quietly and moved up the bed, lying beside her. Pam's eyes were closed and her hands lay flat just under her breasts. She spoke slowly.

"Who's trying to kill who now?"

Martin laughed wickedly. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already."

Pam looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "I can't imagine a better way to go."

They held each other tightly, letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

"I'll get you for this," said Pam.

Martin raised his eyebrows. "I'm counting on it."

Pam sighed deeply and mussed up his hair. "So, _partner_ , I hate to say this, but do you think we should pull ourselves together and get you back to your car so you can pick up your little blond girl?"

Martin had his eyes closed. "Not yet," he said. "Very soon...but not just yet."

Pam continued to stroke his back up and down with one hand, happy to spend a few more stolen moments with him. When he finally opened his eyes, she was disappointed those moments had ended so soon.

"Yeah...I guess we should go," he said. "Would you hand me my gotchies and socks, please?" Pam retrieved them off the floor. Martin slipped them on as he was lying on the bed. Pam retrieved her underwear from the bottom of the bed, picked up her clothing off the floor and started to get dressed. Martin kissed her cheek as he got off the bed and went to the closet, pulling on a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt.

"Won't anyone in the parking lot notice you're wearing different clothes?" Pam asked.

Martin shrugged. "If we get there any time after 5:10 p.m., nobody will be there. Haven't you noticed how they all flee like rats from a burning building as soon as the clock strikes five?"

Pam shrugged. "The employees at Pinches are dedicated, but they aren't _that_ dedicated."

Martin smiled and extended his hand. She took it and they headed downstairs to the kitchen. "I'm parched. Do you want a sip of something?" he asked, heading for the fridge and grabbing a Diet Pepsi. "Sure. I'll have one of those for the road," she replied, grabbing her purse off the table.

She glanced around the kitchen as she took the Pepsi. "Martin. There are dirty dishes in your sink and on the table here." Martin leaned back on the kitchen counter, gulping his cola. "Huh. I guess I didn't get around to putting those away this morning."

"There's also dog hair on the floor – and your bed was made, but it was made hastily with the comforter sort of thrown on top of everything."

Martin grimaced. "Are you nagging me?"

Pam shook her head. "No. I am not nagging you. The last time I came here this looked like _house beautiful_. Your bedroom looked like something straight out of Martha Stewart Living, with everything perfect and all the shams arranged perfectly."

He stopped drinking his cola and squinted at her. "What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm saying is, _today_ the house looks nicely lived-in. The last time I was here, it looked like someone had scrubbed and prettied this house from top to bottom as if they were _expecting company_."

The corners of Martin's lips quirked up. "My dear Ms. Williams, whatever are you implying?"

Pam walked over and leaned her body into him, glaring into his eyes. "You said, 'My dog walker called to cancel.' Am I still supposed to believe that? Or perhaps was I lured here in a diabolical, premeditative plan?" She dug her fingers into his ribs, ticking him, causing him to convulse forward into laughter, almost knocking her over.

"Okay...uncle, uncle, I confess," he laughed. She stopped the tickling but he was still grinning. "I figured that even if it didn't work out, the worst I'd be left with was a really clean house." Pam smiled and shook her head. "You are a _very_ naughty boy," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him.

"Mmmm...but look where it's gotten me. Naughtiness can pay off, Ms. Williams." Pam gave him one more squeeze around the middle before pulling away. "Yes, I suppose it can." She pulled her keys out of her purse. "C'mon, let's get going."

The two grabbed their jackets and headed back in the drizzle toward Pam's car. She drove slowly back to the office, wanting to make sure everyone had left by the time they arrived. When she pulled into the parking lot at 5:15 p.m., the lot was empty except for Martin's Audi. She pulled up beside it and parked.

"I guess this _should_ seem awkward," Pam said quietly, "but it doesn't. Why do you suppose that is?"

"I would say because it's right, because it's something we both want and need, because we've made each other so happy today. Either that, or we're two people with no morals whatsoever." Pam stroked his cheek. He leaned forward and gave her one more lingering kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Have a good night," he said, before getting out of her car and behind the wheel of his Audi. Pam waved as she backed out of the parking space.

# chapter seventeen

Pam hit some heavy rain on the drive home, so she took her time. When she pulled into her driveway, Dave parked beside her seconds later. "This is interesting timing, huh? We don't usually arrive home at the same time," he said as he got out of his car. "Yes, well, the rain was really coming down and I had to be careful, so I'm a bit later getting home than usual," she said over the roof of his car. "I stopped at the grocery store and bought a barbecue chicken for supper." Dave grabbed his satchel out of his car and said, "That's great. Let's get in out of this rain and eat. I'm starving."

Pam followed him into the house with the food and went directly to the kitchen. Dylan was at the table doing homework. "Hi Dylan. Is that math?" she asked. Dylan didn't answer. "Dylan?" He lifted his head and stared at his mother blankly. _Oh, no, not that look. Not again_.

Dylan turned back to his book and sat looking at it, immobile. Pam busied herself with cutting up the chicken and re-warming the roasted potatoes and vegetables she had purchased from the hot counter at the deli. She set the plates and food on the table, working around Dylan's books. "Dave, Samantha," she called out, "supper's ready."

She brought over a salad, sitting beside Dylan at the table. "Dylan, I bought a bunch of things you like...sweet potatoes, butternut squash and your favourite salad." Dylan sat wordlessly as the rest of the family filed in and started eating. Pam pushed Dylan's books aside and placed his plate in front of him. His gaze shifted dully from the books to the plate.

Samantha was chatting cheerfully about her day and Dave had all his attention focused on her as he ate. Pam put a few items on Dylan's plate at the same time she filled hers. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she was eating. He picked up a piece of lettuce with his fingers and put it into his mouth.

"Pam?" She nearly jumped when she heard her husband's voice. "How was your day? Busy?" She turned to him and nodded. "Yes, quite busy. We're about to wrap up the Brown Shoes account, so there's a lot of last-minute work to be done." Dave nodded as he got up from the table, scooping up his plate and Samantha's to take them to the dishwasher. "I guess you'll be glad to move on to another project. That one's been a bear, huh? I'm gonna go watch some TV, okay?" he said, heading for the living room. Samantha came over and kissed her on the cheek. "I have some homework in my room. See ya, Mom."

Pam sat at the table with Dylan, looking at his virtually untouched supper. He sighed deeply. She knew from experience there was no point in trying to talk to him when he was like this. She cleared both their plates and started tidying up in the kitchen. A moment later, Dylan rose with his books and trudged upstairs to his room. Pam loaded the dishwasher before going to the living room to talk to Dave.

"Dave?" He was watching a show about whales. "Dave, did you notice Dylan?" He continued staring at the TV. "Dylan? What about him?" Pam picked up the remote control and muted the volume. Dave looked up at her. "Dave, we can't ignore this again. He wouldn't even look at me. He's slipped to the bottom again, Dave."

Dave frowned and shook his head. "Pam, you're over-reacting again. There's nothing wrong with that boy. He's a teenager. Teenagers are all moody little snots. There's nothing going on with him that isn't going on with any other teenager on the block. I don't know why you want to make a whole big thing out of it."

Pam swallowed a huge wave of anger and tried to keep her voice calm. "Dave, sometimes I can't believe you. Did you not see him at the table? Dylan is in a state – he's unresponsive and damned-near catatonic. I've told you over and over that I think he needs help."

Dave sighed deeply. "And I've told you over and over that he's fine. I don't know why you want to make such a big deal out of things that aren't a big deal," he said, retrieving the remote from her hand. "Just calm down." She waited a moment. "Just calm down? You mean like you! Pull on the rose-coloured glasses." Dave looked at her. "It works for me," he said, turning up the volume to the TV. Pam turned and left.

A few minutes later, Pam noticed Dylan's door was open a bit. She spied through the crack and saw him sitting cross-legged on his bed, staring at the wall. He was perfectly motionless. She paused for a moment, watching him, and then walked on to her own room, flopping down on the bed.

Pam picked up a book and tried to read, but couldn't concentrate and soon put it down. She decided a long, hot bath might be a good idea. She started the tub filling and got in, but couldn't seem to keep the water hot enough for her liking. She got out of the bath feeling more annoyed than relaxed.

Wearing a robe, with a towel wrapped around her head, she walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge freezer. _I think I need a major dose of chocolate_. Pam pulled out a container of double chocolate fudge ice cream and scooped a generous amount into a bowl, topping it off with chocolate syrup and mini chocolate chips. She took it back to bed with her and savoured every last spoonful. She set the bowl on the nightstand and crawled under the covers.

Pam had been trying not to think of the afternoon, but lying in bed, the entire experience flooded back into her mind. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel Martin's hands upon her body. Pam slipped her own hands under her robe and caressed her belly and breasts. _I haven't felt this sexy in years. I can't believe there's someone out there who desires me so much_.

Pam heard Dave walking toward the bedroom and pulled her hand out from beneath her robe. "I heard music coming from Dylan's room," said Dave, heading for the bathroom. "I don't think you should worry about him so much."

Pam got out of bed and changed into a nightshirt before getting under the covers. After a few minutes, Dave came back in.

"Dave, I guess it's in my nature to worry about the kids. That's what moms do."

Dave shuffled over on the bed and put his arms around her. "That's what makes you such a _good_ mom," he said, kissing her. "Your imagination gets you carried away sometimes, that's all. You need to learn how to relax." Dave reached out, placed his hand on the front of her nightshirt and caressed her breast. "I know one way to make you relax," he teased. Pam felt an immediate reaction between her legs and closed her eyes as her husband fondled her. She squeezed her legs together in an effort to push away the building sensation.

"Ummm...Dave? It's been really busy at work and I'm exhausted. I appreciate the attention, but do you mind if we put this off for a few days? I think I really need some sleep." Dave continued to fondle her breast for a minute. "Sure. That's okay. I'm kinda beat too, to be honest. Let's see how we feel on the weekend, okay?" He gave her a soft, lingering kiss. "Night, Pam. Luv ya," he said, turning out the light. "Luv ya too," she replied, switching off her night and plunging them into darkness and dreamland.

At the breakfast table, Pam watched Dylan play with his food. It was past the time he usually left for school. Dave and Samantha had already left the house. He pushed the cereal around in his bowl, but he wasn't eating it _._ She had a knotted feeling in the pit of her stomach _. Dave is wrong. There_ is _something going on here, like there has been a dozen times before. Somehow I have to get him to understand that_.

Eventually, Dylan got up and placed his full bowl in the kitchen sink. He picked his backpack up off the kitchen floor and slammed the door on his way out of the house.

"We're going to have to deal with this at some point," she said, tidying up the kitchen. Pam threw a few items from the fridge into her purple bag and left for her commute.

She was surprised how quiet the office was when she stepped off the elevator. Beverly wasn't in her usual spot at reception and no one was at their desks. "This is fricking odd," she muttered. She walked down the hall to her office and still didn't see anyone. After a moment, Kenny arrived at her door. "Hi Pam," he said. "Hey Kenny; where is everyone?" Kenny indicated behind his shoulder with his thumb. "They're in the conference room out back. Pinches called us all in there. I came to get you."

Pam lifted her eyebrows. "Is everything okay?" Kenny shrugged. "Don't know. Mr. Pinches told everyone to meet in the conference room. I came out here to pick up any strays."

"Okay. Just a sec," she said, stowing her purse in her desk. "Let's go."

Pam and Kenny walked down the hall. She could hear murmurs coming from the conference room at the end. Kenny, always the gentleman, opened the door for her. A loud cheer hit her full-blast from the whole team. Mr. Pinches, who had been in the middle of the gang, walked over and put an arm around her.

Pam was stunned. She had no idea what it was all about or what to say. Pinches saved her by getting the ball rolling. "I wanted to start the day with a little celebration," he said loudly. "Ms. Williams here has been responsible for something marvellous. Not only has she shown great skills as a first-time team leader, she has also helped this company to realize its best quarter ever." Pam stared at him, shocked. "I know you haven't quite wrapped up the Brown Shoes account yet, Pam, but their second installment of payments came in last night and pushed us over the top of our all-time record. Congratulations," he said, shaking her hand. "And congratulations to all of you," he said, turning to the team. Another loud cheer went up.

"Now, this is something my dear mother would have really chastised me for," he chuckled. "Beverly?" Beverly pushed out a cart from behind the crowd. "I've always thought if you're going to have a nice treat, you should have it early in the day and really enjoy it," he said, strolling over to the cart and lifted the lid of a box, revealing a large cake heaped with colourful icing and a message that read "Pinches' Team is the Best!" Everyone applauded and cheered again as Beverly started handing out paper plates and plastic forks.

Pam stood at the front of the room and watched her co-workers attack the cake like unruly children. She noticed Martin at the far side of the room, leaning back against the wall. He was gazing at her with a close-lipped smile and slowly lifted his hand to give her a 'thumbs-up.'

The little ceremony was over in about 10 minutes and everyone filtered back to their desks, many with icing stains around their lips. Pam had taken a piece of cake but hadn't eaten it. She sensed someone behind her and looked back to see Martin. "Aren't you going to eat your cake?" he asked. Pam looked around quickly before whispering, "I know it's weird, but I don't really like cake." Martin leaned in and whispered, "Neither do I." She looked up and laughed quietly. "There's a very handy garbage can on the way out the door," he said.

She and Martin left, Pam cautiously dropping her cake into the garbage. He indicated with his head that she follow him down the hall. He walked into his office with her behind him and closed the door. The blinds on the window beside it were closed. Pam leaned back against the door and Martin stood in front of her. He placed his hands on either side of her on the door frame.

"How'd you sleep?" he whispered. Pam looked into his eyes and felt a flush creep up her face. She could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Okay," she said slowly. "How about you?" He leaned in a little closer, until they were almost touching. "I slept great – after about 4 a.m.," he said. "Your body kept flashing through my mind." He paused. "Makes it real hard to be a _good boy_."

Pam's mouth suddenly felt very moist and she swallowed. Martin wasn't wearing a tie and she noticed his chest hair was visible just like it had been on that day a week ago. She found it difficult to take her eyes off of it. "Martin," she whispered. "I'm afraid you _have_ to be a good boy. We'll work this out – we really will – but for now we have to be very good – and very careful." She looked back up at him. He nodded, pulled away and placed his hands behind his back.

"I'll follow the rules, _team leader_. You'll just eventually have to tell me what they are," he said steadily. Martin continued staring into her eyes as he opened the door. "I believe you have an account to settle up, Ms. Williams. Have a good day."

"Yes, Martin," she said, backing into the hallway. "Thanks for that information. You have a good day too."

Pam went back to her office. She saw Martin walk by her door a few times that day and walk back past with armfuls of paper from the copier, but he never stopped or looked in. In fact, only a handful of people came to see her that day – the Brown account really was winding down. She busied herself getting caught up on a dozen small tasks she'd been putting off for the past few weeks and was surprised at the end of the day how quickly it had flown past. When she got into her car at 5 p.m., she noticed the Audi was already gone.

That night at supper, Dylan seemed to be a different child. He ate well, and while he wasn't chatty like Samantha, he did answer questions and offer tidbits of information about his school day. Pam inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She had feared this episode would have lasted longer, like some of the others. Still, she made a mental note to sit Dave down and have a serious discussion about having their son assessed by a professional.

It seemed no one needed to see her on Friday morning, so Pam spent a couple of slightly guilt-ridden hours surfing the Internet and watching YouTubes at her desk. _What the heck, everyone else does it! I walk past Beverly's computer all the time and see recipes on her screen. She even leaves her print-outs lying in the copier for anyone to see. And I'm sure I saw a bikini-clad babe on Kenny's screen last week – well, for a second or two, anyway._

"Pam?" She looked up and saw Martin in her doorway. "Oh. Hi, Martin," she said, quickly hitting the button on her mouse. "You looking at something interesting?" he grinned. "I'm _team leader_ , Mr. Campbell. I can look at anything I want." She averted her gaze and wondered if her face looked guilty.

"Uh-huh," he said. "Listen, I've got some stuff I need you to see. Pinches asked me to do a bit of research on Google AdWords and how we might use them on future projects. You got a minute?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Come on in." Martin grabbed a chair and wheeled it around, sitting beside her and spreading the hard copies out on her desk. "I want you to look at this and tell me what you think." Martin showed her the sample promotional plan he had come up with that he hoped might work as a generic starting point for almost any marketing campaign. He explained key phrases in a campaign had to contain negative keywords for the ad to be shown only to appropriate audiences. _What the hell is a negative keyword?_ A high click-through rate was a vital component of quality ranking, he said, and an optimal result was a lower cost-per-click. _Huh?_

"Have I lost you?" Pam took a moment to respond. "What?" Pam wasn't quite sure what he had said. She turned her chair around sharply, and in doing so, smacked the side of his leg hard with her knee.

"Owww!" he cried. "Oh, Martin, sorry! Did I hurt you?" She reached over and touched his leg. Martin stared at her hand. He didn't say anything for a moment. He closed his eyes tightly and Pam wondered if he was in agony. "Martin, really...are you okay?" He opened his eyes again and looked at her hand, still on his leg.

"I want to fuck you," he whispered.

Pam felt a rush of blood in her chest. _Did he really say what I think he said?_

"I want to fuck you," he repeated.

The rush of blood in her chest quickly surged down her arms and legs. Martin slowly looked up at her. "If I don't fuck you in the next half hour, I think I'm going to die."

Pam felt out of breath. She looked at her computer. She looked around the office. She looked anywhere but at him. His hand clamped onto her knee and her body jerked as he squeezed. He squeezed hard and she looked at him. "My house is 15 minutes away," he said deeply. "In 20 minutes, I can be throwing you down and fucking you on my bed. If you don't want to do that, I'll drag you over to the other side of your office right now and fuck you up against the door."

Pam gaped at him, her mouth open. Her heart was racing. She felt engorgement mounting between her legs. _No one has ever spoken to me that way_. She licked her lips. She slowly nodded. Martin stood and grabbed her wrist, yanking her out of the chair and pulling her behind him. He let go before they reached the hallway.

Pam followed Martin to the elevator. She turned to Beverly and said, "Beverly, Martin and I are going for a bit of an early lunch. We'll be back in a little while." Beverly smiled sweetly. "Have a good one!" she said. Pam heard Martin snort and the elevator doors opened.

#  chapter eighteen

Martin stared straight ahead as the elevator descended. When it opened, he strode purposefully to the front door. It was raining and Pam had to walk quickly to keep up with him. They walked to his Audi and got in. Martin was silent as he pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the street. After a few seconds, he turned to her. "Play with yourself," he demanded.

"What?" she exclaimed.

He turned his attention back to the road. "Put your hand inside your underwear and play with yourself. I want you wet and ready to cum by the time we get to my house." He stared straight ahead. "This isn't going to be like the other day."

Pam's head was swimming. Her heart was beating rapidly and making her feel dizzy. It was intoxicating. She was wearing a skirt. She bunched up the ends of it and slipped her right hand up and under the garment. She pulled her panty hose forward and managed to work her hand down into the front of her underwear.

Martin looked at her sideways the moment she pushed her hand downward. She was already wet. Pam closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers up and down the crease of her pussy. She instinctively lifted her hips as much as the seat belt would allow and plunged her fingers inside her already throbbing entrance. She moaned softly.

Pam heard Martin's breathing pick up. A small noise escaped from his throat and aroused her even more. She had no idea how many minutes had passed, but she was starting to feel a tightening in her belly. She groaned deeply. Martin exhaled sharply. "Don't cum yet!" he said, incredulously. Pam shuddered. "Don't worry. I have more control than that."

Pam closed her eyes and in what seemed like moments later, the Audi's engine cut. Opening her eyes and seeing Martin's house, she pulled her hand out of her underwear.

Martin was staring at her breasts. "Let's go," he said. Pam felt heavy between the legs as she climbed the porch steps. When Martin opened the door, Amber came running toward her. "Hi, Amber," she said. Martin ignored the dog and grabbed Pam's arm, pulling her behind him through the kitchen and up the stairs into his bedroom, slamming the door.

He whirled her around and pulled her tight into him. "I want you to be loud when you cum," he said, shoving her away from him. Pam fell back and lay across the bed, her legs dangling over the edge. She looked up and watched Martin glaring down at her. "Pull up your shirt. I want to see your tits." Pam quickly pulled her shirt up, revealing a silky red bra. He leered at her chest. "Is all your underwear that hot?" Pam's lip was trembling. "I like to know I'm wearing nice things under my clothes," she replied. Martin sucked in a breath and shivered. He bent over, hurriedly shoved up her skirt and pulled her underwear and pantyhose down to her ankles. She squeezed her legs together in an attempt to ease the throbbing.

Martin unbuckled and unzipped his pants, shoving everything down and revealing his hardness. He didn't bother to take off his suit jacket before he lay himself down on top of her. He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, kissing her deeply. Martin's cock pressed into the front of her pussy and Pam writhed under him, lifting her hips and trying to rub herself on him. Martin glided his mouth rapidly over hers, kissing her from every angle. He pulled his mouth away for a moment and she moaned loudly, throwing her head back at the intense sensation of his weight on her pelvis.

"Don't cum yet," he growled. Pam whimpered. "But you're so hard and you're pressing dead centre on my clit!" Martin's breath came out harshly. "I know. I can tell. But don't cum yet. I want to feel you squeezing me as you cum."

Pam felt like her head was about to explode. "Well, then _do it_ _now!_ " she shouted. Martin took only a moment to comply. Still pinning her arms, he lifted himself slightly, looked down between them and shoved himself in hard. They both cried out.

Martin's feet were planted firmly on the floor and he had plenty of leverage to pound into her. Within seconds, Pam was arching beneath him, nearly lifting him off the bed. Her climax came in rippled waves. She did indeed clamp down on him, shriek and shout his name out at full volume, as Martin had hoped. Even once her orgasm subsided, each time he hit her pubic bone, a new jolt of pleasure shot through her.

Martin glared at her through gritted teeth. "I want to make you sore," he said, driving into her mercilessly. "I want you to be sore all weekend," he uttered. Martin was getting more aroused with each word he spoke. "Every time you move, I want you to be reminded where I've been." With one last thrust, he pushed himself solidly into her body and bellowed like a man in pain. He stayed in the same position for at least a minute, grinding his pelvis forward. Finally, he collapsed on top of her, releasing her hands. Pam wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in tight.

Martin came up onto his elbows and looked into her eyes. "You're not like anybody else," he murmured, pulling out of her slowly and standing up. Pam noticed he was still hard.

He reached down and grabbed her underwear and panty hose, pulling them up her legs. Leaning over, he said, "I don't want you to go get freshened up. I want you to have me wet between your legs all afternoon." Pam lifted her bottom as Martin tugged her underwear up and pulled her skirt back down. Seconds later, he pulled his own underwear and pants up over his wet cock.

Martin reached his hand out to her. She grabbed it and he pulled her up. He still had a wild look in his eyes. "Woman," he said, "you have no idea what you do to me." Martin grabbed her and hugged her fiercely. _If I wasn't confused before, I sure am now._

He released her from his arms but grasped her hand tightly. "Let's get back to work," he said, leading her out of the room and slowly down the stairs

Amber had been lying on a bed in the corner near the deck door and approached, wagging her tail. "Hey, girl," Martin said, scratching behind her ear. "Penelope will be over soon to take you on a nice walk. You have fun."

Martin turned back to Pam. He touched her cheek and she leaned into his hand. "Let's go," he said in a low voice. They left the house. Martin walked in front of her, holding open the door to the Audi. She stepped inside and he waited until she had done up her seat belt before he closed the door.

Martin got into the driver's seat and asked, "You want to listen to the radio?" Pam nodded. "Sure." Martin pushed a button and John Lennon's voice flowed out of the speakers at a low volume. They caught the song half way through.

" _Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing through my opened ears, inciting and inviting me...Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns, it calls me on and on, across the universe...Jai Guru Deva ommmm..."_

Pam turned it up a little. She glanced over and saw that Martin was smiling. She looked away quickly and watched the raindrops spattering against the passenger seat window.

As they pulled into the lot at Pinches and parked, Martin turned off the engine and looked at her. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you," he breathed. Pam felt a tightening in her chest. "We'd better go," he added.

They exited the Audi and headed for the front door of the office building. Martin placed his hand on the small of her back as Pam walked through the door. After they entered the elevator, Martin squeezed her hand and leaned in to kiss her. Pam had read in a number of old novels about women about to 'swoon.' She wondered if this was what it felt like.

By the time they reached the fourth floor, Martin and Pam had put a few feet in between them. The pair stepped into the office and Beverly looked up. "Did you two have a nice lunch?" she asked. "Yes, it was lovely," said Pam. "We should all go to that restaurant sometime," she added. Martin glanced at her briefly before they each turned in different directions and went back to their offices.

Pam sat at her desk and glanced at the paperwork Martin had left scattered across her desk. She shifted in her office chair. Her crotch was sopping wet. She wondered if it might soak though the back of her skirt, so she pushed the garment behind her and sat on the chair in her pantyhose. The wetness was uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was incredibly erotic. _I'm not sure if I've been violated or not. Regardless, that was probably the hottest sex I've ever had_.

Pam sat at her desk for most of the afternoon, not able to concentrate on anything. Thankfully, no one came to see her and she had plenty of time to sit and think. Eventually, she gathered Martin's papers into a neat pile and put them into a file folder. The office seemed quiet and almost deserted as she walked down the hallway. When she arrived at his doorway, he was already looking up, as if he had heard her coming down the hall. "Hi," he said softly. "Hi," she replied quietly.

"Close the door, Pam, and come over here." Pam closed the door and sat in a chair Martin pulled beside him. "I thought you might be looking for these," she said, setting the file folder on his desk. Martin ignored the file folder, turning to her and taking her hands into his, resting them on his knees.

"Martin," she said, staring at their hands, "as usual, I'm not sure what to say."

"Well then, let's not say anything for a minute. Let's just sit here together." Pam nodded and they sat in silence. She stared at his hands, mesmerized by his long, elegant fingers, which explored and caressed her own hands.

"Pamela?" he said eventually. "Mmmm?" she replied. "You okay?"

Pam looked up at him and smiled. "Yes, Martin, I'm okay."

"Ummm...I think I called you Pamela. Do you hate that as much as Pammy?"

Pam shook her head. "No. No, I don't hate it at all. In fact, it sounds wonderful when _you_ say it. Nobody ever bothers to use my full name. I like to hear it."

Martin nodded and rolled his chair closer to her. "I like to say it," he whispered. "I'd like to say it a lot more...but only when we're alone."

Pam sighed deeply, but it was a blissful sigh. "I'd like that too." Her expression took on a more serious quality. "But Martin, I think we need a plan of some sort. This week has been wild and exciting, but we need something that's going to work for both of us. I think we need to set up some sort of ground rules or something."

Martin nodded in agreement. "Okay, that sounds fair. We can plan something that will work. We can do it like a business meeting and put it all down on paper." He paused. "Of course, then we'd have to burn the paper." Pam loved how he could take any serious discussion and make it seem lighter. "The problem is," he said, "how do we find a time and place to do that?"

"Martin, I've been in my office for a few hours doing some creative thinking. I want us to figure this out as soon as we can. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Martin lifted his eyebrows. "Saturday? Saturday's usually the day when I go hang-gliding and white-water rafting." A smile spread slowly across his face. "But I'll forego those activities for you if you want."

Pam forced herself not to react. "Okay. How about I come to your house tomorrow? Maybe around noon. We can talk then."

Martin squeezed her hands. "Come over hungry. I want to cook for you." Pam looked behind her through Martin's office window before kissing him. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, and quickly left his office.

When she returned to her desk, it was nearly 4:30 p.m. and Pam decided to skip out early. She had an errand to do on the way home. She shut off her computer and grabbed her purse. Pam stopped by Beverly's desk on the way to the elevator. "I'm leaving a bit early today, Beverly. Have a nice weekend."

"You and most of the office, Pam. It seems everyone is sneaking out today. I think I'll be next. You have a good weekend too."

Before she left the city, Pam pulled into a mall parking lot and headed for the first women's clothing shop she could find. Without trying anything on, she pulled two pairs of pants and a couple of blouses in her size off the racks. Pam took the clothes to the counter and paid for them, babbling something about buying clothes for a friend. The young sales girl smiled politely and handed her the bags.

When Pam got back to the car, she opened the trunk and stowed the new clothes under an old blanket she kept there in case of emergencies. She arranged a couple of bottles of windshield washer fluid in front of them before getting back in the car for the drive home.

That night, Pam and Dave watched another couple of episodes of _Dallas_. They were really rocking through the series. Pam hadn't remembered how much of a soap opera it was. Everyone was either dying, falling in love, getting divorced or getting thrown in jail. And, she thought humorously, everyone always seemed to find a parking spot right in front of the downtown office building.

After they'd had enough _Dallas_ , Pam watched Dave take out the DVD, put it back into its case and file it alphabetically in the storage unit. "Dave?" Dave sat back in his reclining chair and looked at her. "It's going to be summer soon, you know? I looked at some of my work clothes the other day and they're starting to look kind of faded and worn. I was thinking of going into the city tomorrow and doing a bit of shopping."

"Uh-huh," he said, turning back to the TV and trying to find something else to watch. "When are you going out?"

"Sometime late morning. I'll probably take myself out for a nice lunch and then do some shopping around. I'm not looking for anything specific, but I'm sure I'll know what I want once I see it."

Dave looked amused. "You women! I can't understand why you need to shop so much. I just go into a store and say, 'I'll take that suit there.' You women take three hours to decide on what socks to buy." He shrugged. "Ah, well, whatever makes you happy is fine with me, hon."

"Thanks, Dave," she said, adding, "I do think it's important for me to look nice at the office. It's part of the job."

He nodded. "That it is."

# chapter nineteen

The next morning, Pam put on her favourite jeans and a scoop-necked black T-shirt before hopping in the car for her 'shopping trip' to the city. She pulled into Martin's driveway just before noon and was greeted at the door by an excited Golden Retriever. "I think she likes you," said Martin. "She has impeccable taste," Pam countered, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him thoroughly. "Hey," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, "you keep that up and we'll never get any work done."

Pam giggled. "I thought you were going to feed me." She gave him a quick peck before freeing herself and heading to the kitchen. She sat at one of the kitchen chairs and played with Amber, who had followed her in. "It smells wonderful in here, Martin. What are you cooking?"

"It's vegetarian lasagna. This is only the second time I've made it. It has about a pound of mushrooms and lots of vegetables – green and red peppers, spinach, sweet onion and zucchini. Then I put a blend of ricotta and mozzarella cheese on the top. I cut it up into pieces and put it in the freezer, but it makes a lot, so I'm happy to have you to share it with."

"How did you become such a good cook?" Pam asked. Martin shrugged. "I got tired of mac and cheese. I decided to start experimenting and found out I really like to cook – which is good, because I really like to eat, too."

Martin busied himself with the lunch preparations while Pam played a game of short-distance fetch with Amber. Martin glanced over a few times. He was pleased with how much Pam was enjoying the dog. He scooped up two generous portions of lasagna and placed them on plates. He unwrapped the foil off a loaf of garlic bread hot out of the oven and cut off a few pieces to go on the sides of the plates.

"Lunch is served," he said, setting the plates on the table and pointing at Amber to go back to her bed. Pam drank in the aroma wafting up from her plate. "Martin, this looks marvellous." She took a bite. "And it tastes fantastic! Thank you."

Martin leered at her. "I intend to pleasure _all_ of your senses, Pamela."

Pam felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach and knew it wasn't from the lunch. She suddenly remembered something Hannah had said about Martin after the skydiving – "smart, nice, rich, stable and not gay." _I'll have to tell her she can add "and a thoroughly seductive cook" to that list_.

Martin and Pam deliberately avoided any serious topics while they ate their lunch. Martin took a second helping but Pam was too full to eat another bite. "You must do an awful lot of jogging to keep that firm, flat stomach and trim figure," Pam commented.

"I like to keep my body moving," he said in between mouthfuls. "It keeps my mind from swirling into itself too much. I tend to get a bit compulsive and over-think things if I'm physically idle for too long. Regardless, I love to eat and sometimes I overdo it. The jogging keeps me in slim-fit pants. If I didn't jog, I'd probably be 50 pounds heavier." He took a sip of iced tea and grinned at her. "Of course, there are _many_ ways to exercise."

"Are you using that smile to your advantage again?"

"You tell me," he said, still grinning.

Pam sighed. She was trying her best not to look at him. "Martin, thanks for lunch, but I believe I came here for a _business meeting_."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, clearing the dishes and placing them in the sink. "I'm all for getting down to business. Let's go to that place I showed you where I think best."

Martin took her hand and she stood. "I know they say business before pleasure, but I think I'll perish if I don't taste your lips first," he said. Pam didn't resist one bit when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. She put her arms around his back and let them fall, groping his ass and squeezing his butt cheeks. Their lips parted and Martin rested his forehead on hers. "Let's call that some pre-meeting research, okay?"

Martin kept her hand in his and lead her upstairs, first the wide staircase and then the narrow one leading to the top floor. Amber trotted up behind them and flopped on the floor under the computer desk.

Martin motioned for Pam to sit on the small sofa. "I see you're prepared for our meeting, Mr. Campbell," she said, looking at the large pad of paper and the pen sitting squarely in the middle of the coffee table. He carefully sat beside her. "It's always good to be prepared, don't you think?"

"Where do we even begin?" she said. Martin reached around to a small table beside him and set a plastic bag on the coffee table. "I've thought about that," he said, reaching into the bag and pulling out two cell phones. He handed her a purple flip phone and kept a black one for himself. "I did a little shopping this morning. These are for you and me – they're _only_ for you and me. We don't use these phones for anything other than calling or texting _each other_. We don't give the phone numbers to anyone else. We don't even let anyone see the phones, if possible. That's a little easier for me, but if Dave or one of your kids sees that cell phone, you'll have to have some ready-made story to tell them. I've turned the ringer off on yours and I'd suggest you keep it off."

Pam looked at the phone and turned it over in her hand before looking back at Martin. "You really have thought about this, haven't you?" Martin nodded. "It's only step one," he said. "The bill for the phones comes to me so that no one will ever see it. I've pre-programmed your phone so that you only need to dial a 5 and then a 0 to call me." He smiled. "That's in honour of your Fifty List."

"If you ever want or need to call me," he added, "don't do it from your home phone or any other number that's traceable. I only want you to use this," he said, pointing at the phone in her hand.

"Hmmmm...that makes a lot of sense, actually."

"Why, thank you. I make sense, do I?"

She shook her head and laughed nervously. "Martin, you are one of the smartest people I've ever met. Maybe one of the most devious, too."

The left side of his mouth quirked up. "That's only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how devious I can be. Now, let's hear something you have in mind."

"Okay. Obviously, I want to spend as much time with you as I can, but my time has to be divvied up a little differently than yours. I go home to a family every night and I have certain commitments to them. My kids are almost adults themselves, but I do need to support them in a variety of ways."

"Still, I want to be fair to _myself_ ," she continued. "We'll have to experiment with this to see if I can get away with it, but I'd really like to be with you at least a couple of times a week."

"Be with me?"

Pam paused before speaking. "Yes, _be_ with you _._ I don't mean just sex – although I must say, sex with you is remarkable – but I also just want to spend time with you."

Martin put a hand on her leg and stroked the inside of her thigh. He spoke slowly and his voice was very deep. "Pam, I love fucking you. I love the taste of you in my mouth. I love feeling you shake underneath me and seeing the way your eyes roll back into your head when you cum. The best place in the world for me is deep inside your body." He looked down at his hand on her thigh. "That being said, there's more I want than sex too." He looked into her eyes. "What you said just now is what I've been thinking for a while. I adore making love to you, but I also want to simply _be_ with you. I want us to share food together and take walks together and snuggle up on my leather couch and watch movies together. I want to be able to hold you in my arms and not be worried about what anyone else sees or thinks."

Pam was melting inside at the look on Martin's face. "I want all those things too," she whispered. Martin put the pad of paper and pen in her lap. "Then write some of that down. I don't want either one of us to forget anything."

They both reviewed their procedures for the cell phones and recorded them on the notepad. Pam then wrote down everything each of them had said so far about what they wanted out of the relationship.

"What about the office? We should write something down about how we behave in the office," said Pam. Martin whimpered a little. "I guess you have to write down 'Martin has to be a _good boy_ ,' and then we can figure out what that means."

"Believe me, it's as difficult for me to be good as it is for you."

"Maybe," he said. "But then again, you don't have to hide a big hard-on when someone is wearing something low-cut that makes you want to crawl across the boardroom table, rip her shirt off and attack her tits right in the middle of a staff meeting."

Pam's face flushed hotly. "Shall I write down, 'no low-cut tops' then?" Martin grabbed the pen from her hand. "Don't you dare! I'll just stare at your tits and pretend not to be staring at your tits – like all the other guys in the office."

Pam wore an astonished expression. "All the other guys?"

"You mean you don't know that other men find you attractive? Pam, I've seen other guys looking at your body. I don't mind. In fact, it gives me a little thrill because I know you don't want them – you want me."

Pam was confused. "But I've never seen any of them looking at me."

"Exactly!" he nodded. "We guys are sneaky, huh?"

"I guess," she laughed. "Anyway, how are we going to keep our paws off each other in the office?"

"I'm not sure we can," he said. "Maybe it's okay if it's hands under a desk. Beyond that, I think we have to discipline ourselves that the office is a hands-off zone. If we can spend time together outside the office, it might take the pressure off and make that temptation easier to resist."

"Maybe," said Pam, sounding unconvinced. "I'll write that down – 'The office is a hands-off zone.' We'll try our best." Pam took the pen from him and made the note.

"I'm going to tell you something I probably shouldn't," she added. "A while back, Mr. Pinches started talking to me about you. He said you had a lot of potential and that I should mentor you and _keep on top of you_."

"He didn't!"

"Mmm-hmm, he did. That's what I was laughing hysterically about that day you came to my office door and I said Mr. Pinches had told me a joke. Of course, that was before I had _literally_ been on top of you." Martin started laughing. "Anyway, Mr. Campbell, do you think that, as my protégé, we might need to spend a bit of time together? That maybe I might need to take you on a few more _field trips_ or _fact-finding missions_?"

"Oh, I'm sure I could learn a lot from your tutelage, Ms. Williams."

"Fine. I suppose I could schedule in a regular brainstorming exercise into our weekly schedule. I'll even tell Mr. Pinches about it. I'm sure he'll be thrilled that I'm taking you under my wing. Of course, where those field trips take place would be up to you and me."

"Write that down," Martin said hurriedly, adding, "Do you think you might be requiring me to do any evening or weekend work at all, Ms. Williams?"

Pam looked up from the notepad. "Actually, yes, I was thinking of telling Dave that my schedule might include a few extra hours that might require some evening and weekend work. Do you mind putting in the extra time to do a good job, Mr. Campbell?"

"Any job worth doing is worth doing well," he said lustily. Pam squeezed her eyes shut.

"Martin, I have to be serious for a moment. Is that okay?" She opened her eyes and he was nodding.

"There are a couple of things I officially want on the list. I know you already indicated that this wouldn't be a problem, but I need it on paper." She took a deep breath. "You can never ask me to leave my husband or to disregard the needs of my children." She waited a moment.

"Pam, I would never, ever ask that of you. I told you, that's who you are. I know I can't have you all to myself. I realize how important your family is to you." Martin moved closer and wrapped his arms around her. "I don't want to change who you are. I want you to be part of my life – to be part of _me_."

Martin released her and she looked into his eyes. "I want you to be part of my life too, Martin."

She jotted down their agreement about her marriage and family on the notepad.

"There's one more thing," she said, starting at the paper. "This relationship seems so unfair to you. I don't want to destroy your chances of a normal life," she said. She took a moment before adding quietly, "I don't want you to fall in love with me."

Martin was silent. He looked at the notepad. He looked out the window. He looked at Amber, who lay sleeping under the computer desk. Eventually, he looked back at Pam. He shook his head slowly back and forth. "Pam," he sighed. "I think it's a little too late for you to ask _that_ of me."

Pam drew in a quick breath. Her bottom lip trembled. Martin stared into her eyes unrelentingly. He shook his head again. "Don't say anything," he whispered. "Don't say anything at all. Put down that list and let me hold you. I think this meeting is adjourned."

Pam put down the pad and melted into Martin's embrace. He stroked her hair and rocked her gently back and forth. _I think my heart's about to explode_.

Several minutes passed with Martin and Pam slowly rocking back and forth in each other's arms on the small sofa at the top floor of his house. Martin's words were swirling around in Pam's head. As usual, he was the first to break the silence. "Hey," he whispered into her ear. "How would you like to visit my bathroom?"

Pam pulled back abruptly. "What?"

Martin laughed. "I meant my hot tub. How would you like to relax with me in my hot tub?"

"Oh! That sounds heavenly." She grinned mischievously. "Only...I don't have a swimsuit."

"That's good. Because swimsuits aren't allowed in my hot tub." He took her by the hand and led her down the narrow stairs to the second-level bathroom. Amber remained upstairs, dreaming doggie dreams.

"You can put your clothes on the chair over there," said Martin. He was quick to strip and step into the large tub. Pam removed her clothes and approached the tub. She climbed the steps and dipped in a toe. "Eeek! Martin – that's really hot." He took a handful of water and poured it over her foot. "Get in slow...you'll adjust in a minute."

Martin watched as she entered the tub. He appreciated the perspective of looking up at her body and was amused by the look of little-girl astonishment as she slipped into the water. "Holy moley, this is hot!" she exclaimed, finally submerged in the water. "But it's also absolutely marvellous. I love taking baths, but at home, I can never seem to keep the water hot enough once I've been in it for a while."

"That's because your body gets used to it. The temperature of the water probably doesn't drop as much as you think...it's your brain talking to your skin. With the hot tub, I can crank it up so the brain doesn't get that message as quickly and you keep feeling the heat longer. There's nothing like it for relaxing the muscles."

Pam lay back in the tub. She had closed her eyes and was only partially listening. She'd found a spot where she could recline almost completely, a hot jet of water hitting her squarely in the small of the back. They were quiet for several minutes, drinking in the heat. _This is pure bliss. I'd come over here for this alone_.

"Hey," Martin whispered. "It's getting real lonely over here on this side of the pool."

Pam opened her eyes and saw invitation in Martin's expression. She glided over to him and hovered over his body in the water. He admired her breasts floating freely in the space between them and reached up to fondle them. Pam leaned in and kissed him as he touched her, surprised at how hot his lips felt.

"Lay back against me," said Martin. "I want to feel you lying on top of me."

Pam rolled over in the water and lay back on Martin, her head resting on his shoulder. The lack of gravity made for an interesting sensation. It was a position they would never be able to achieve with any degree of comfort out of the water. Martin wrapped his arms and legs around her. His hands travelled sensuously up and down the front of her body and grazed the soft flesh between her legs several times.

"Hmmmm," he sighed. "I love the feeling of you pressed up against me. I love touching your skin everywhere. I'm turned on...but I'm also plain blissed out. I could hold you like this forever."

Pam arched her head away as Martin kissed along the side of her neck leading down to her shoulder. She ran her hands up and down the sides of his legs as she relaxed back onto him, kneading his muscular thighs.

"This is one of those times I was talking about when I'm more interested in being with you than having sex," said Martin. "I think you can tell that I'm hard, but this is so sensual that that's kind of secondary. An orgasm lasts only a few precious seconds for a man, but this can go on and on. When I close my eyes and wrap my arms around you, it almost feels like you're an extension of myself in the water."

Pam turned her head toward him. "Martin, you're a closet romantic, aren't you?"

His smile seemed shy. "You make me feel romantic."

Martin's expression turned serious. "Look. There's something I wanted to ask you. Yesterday. Did I hurt you? I thought about it afterward. I really didn't want to hurt you."

Pam screwed up her face and impulsively stuck her tongue out at him. "Yes, you did! Don't confuse yesterday's crazy, passionate sex with this, Martin. There's no comparing the two. Sex can be tender and gentle and kind. It can also be rough and raw and forceful. There's no apology necessary for anything we both consent to. I wasn't exactly saying 'no' to any of it, was I?"

Martin shook his head. "And if I ever ask you to stop, you would?" Martin nodded again. "Of course I would, Pam. I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do." Pam relaxed back into him again, moving her hands slowly back and forth, just under the surface of the water.

"But to answer your question...yes...you did hurt me a bit," she continued. "And yes...I'm still a bit sore. But it's the sexiest type of soreness I can imagine. You fucked me so hard, I thought my head would explode, but it was thrilling and exhilarating. I saw pure, hungry lust in your eyes and the unadulterated eroticism of that look made me feel like some sort of wild woman."

Martin shivered in the hot water and wrapped his arms and legs tighter around her. "Pamela," he sighed, "you may be more woman than I can handle."

After another 10 minutes, Martin said they should probably get out of the hot water if they didn't want to risk fainting and drowning.

Martin stepped out first and grabbed a couple of huge white towels. He quickly scrubbed himself dry and turned to Pam as she exited the hot tub. "Here, let me dry you off so you don't get chilled." Martin started at her feet and worked his way quickly up her body, paying attention to even the smallest droplets of water. When he reached her head, he rubbed her hair briefly with the towel and let it fall to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her. They stood in the middle of the bathroom, the fronts of their still-hot bodies pressed tightly together. Pam noticed Martin had gone flaccid and took pleasure in the sensation of his soft penis pressing into her belly. They held each other for several minutes, running their hands up and down each other's backs.

"Martin," she whispered, "every time you hold me like this, I have this thought that I want the clock to stop ticking." He smiled and kissed her tenderly. "Funny," he said, "I have that very same thought whenever you have your arms around me."

Pam sighed deeply and forced herself to let go of him. They both grabbed their clothes. Pam put on her underwear and marvelled at how great her skin felt. "Martin, my skin feels so soft! I would expect it to be dry after being in a hot tub." Martin nodded. "It has a salt water generator. We could be in there every day and your skin would stay as soft as the day you were born."

She walked over to him, topless. He was in the process of putting his head through his shirt. She ran her hands over his chest, stopping at his nipples and pinching them lightly. "So that's why your skin is so smooth and sexy," she cooed.

Martin's fingers tightened on the shirt, still up around his neck, and closed his eyes. "I think you'd better stop doing that," he warned. "That is, unless you want to be fucked on the bathroom floor."

# chapter twenty

Pam gave Martin a devilish look and pinched his nipples hard enough for him to wince. With one swift motion, he pulled off his shirt, grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her backwards. He reached out one hand briefly, slammed the bathroom door and shoved her up against it hard. Her head hit the door with a small thud.

As he pressed his body up against her, Pam realized he was no longer flaccid. He breathed heavily and stared into her eyes.

"You asked for this," he said through clenched teeth.

Martin yanked her underwear down, ripping them in the process. He shoved his fingers up hard into her. Pam cried out more from shock than anything else. He pressed his chest into her, pinning her against the door, and drove his fingers deep inside her over and over.

Pam pressed her hands flat onto the door and panted. Martin crushed his mouth onto hers and kissed her so firmly that it hurt her lips. He abruptly pulled his fingers out of her and grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip against her clit.

Pam tore her mouth away from him and a loud, garbled noise erupted from her throat. Martin bent his knees and shoved himself into her. The noise from Pam's throat stopped and she shook all over.

Pam looked him in the eye and said breathlessly, "I thought you wanted to fuck me on the bathroom floor."

Martin grunted as he thrust into her. He spoke gruffly. "Every time I've been in your office, I've wanted to shove you up against the door and fuck you. I can't do that there. This will have to do."

Martin grabbed Pam's ass and pulled her closer, allowing him to drive into her harder. Pam was on her tiptoes. Her leg muscles were shaking. Her spine was screaming from being slammed repeatedly into the door. The pain was overshadowed by what was going on between her legs. There was absolutely no space at all between her body and Martin's. Every time he thrust into her, the pressure and friction on the front of her anatomy built until the sensation was enormous.

Martin buried his face in her neck and grunted continuously. Wetness dripped down the inside of Pam's thigh. She felt like she was being crushed and found it hard to breathe. But the more breathless she felt, the stronger the sensation between her legs became. _So close. So close. So close._

Martin howled into her ear. She felt a gush of wetness flood the inside of her right leg. Martin stopped thrusting. His whole body was quivering. Pam tilted her pelvis toward him and spoke in a strangled tone. "Don't stop. Don't. Just a bit more." Martin grabbed her ass cheeks tightly and dug his fingernails firmly into them. Pam shrieked. He started thrusting again.

She pushed her lips against his ear.

"That's it. Keep going. Uh-huh. Ohhhh...yeah." She started to count down.

"Ahhh... _three_...ahhhh... _two_...ahhhhh... _one_." Pam moaned loudly into his ear as she came.

Martin withdrew from her quickly and placed his hands on her hips. His face was still pressed into her neck. He was panting like a dog. The small space between them allowed Pam to pull her back away from the door. Her spine complained loudly.

"Ahhhooooowwww," she said. Martin lifted his head and looked at her. Her eyes were closed and she was grimacing. Martin lifted his hands and placed them on either side of her face. "Look at me. Pamela, look at me." Pam opened her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Pam laughed soundlessly. "I will be. Give me time and I will be." Martin licked his bottom lip and tasted a hint of blood. He wasn't sure if it was his or hers. "That was a bit rougher than I meant it to be," he said. Pam slapped his ass – hard – and he yelped.

"Don't _apologize_ to me," she said reproachfully. "You would have stopped if I asked you to." Martin sucked the blood off his bottom lip into his mouth and nodded.

Pam looked down at their bodies, which were drenched in sweat and the leavings of their activities. "I'd say we negated the cleanliness factor of that hot tub we took."

Martin smiled. "Well, then, my lady, perhaps I need to introduce you to my shower."

He took her by the hand and led her to the green-tiled grotto. "You're getting the full spa treatment today."

Martin stepped into the shower and adjusted several knobs. Jets of water sprayed toward the centre from six different directions. He stretched out his hand and Pam stepped inside. She'd never been in such an elaborate shower before. At home, one side of her was always warm while the other side was cold, but no matter where she stood in Martin's cave-like shower, water sprayed onto every surface of her body.

Martin watched happily as Pam enjoyed the ultimate in showering luxury. He filled his hands with shower gel and rubbed it on her back, arms and torso. He filled his hands with her breasts and worked the gel into a lather, allowing him to glide his fingers smoothly around and in between them. Pam felt herself growing excited again and squeezed her legs together. Martin brought his mouth down on hers and they kissed as the warm water washed away their sweat.

Martin kept his left hand on her breast and trailed his right down her body, cupping her vulva and massaging it gently. Pam pulled her lips away from his. "Martin," she sighed. "No more. I can't take any more."

Martin looked into her eyes as he stroked her clit with his thumb. "Are you asking me to stop?" Pam threw her head back and pushed her hips forward into his hand. "Oh, god, I don't know. I don't know what's happening to me."

Martin continued to play with her. "That doesn't sound like 'stop' to me."

Pam's genitals were still very engorged from the encounter up against the door. Martin's light touch was driving her wild and the water hitting her skin was rapidly increasing her level of arousal. The build-up was quicker than anything she'd experienced before. She wrapped her arms around Martin's wet back and squeezed his chest tightly into her.

Martin circled her entrance with his fingers while he stroked her clit with his thumb. Pam's jaw opened widely and a sharp noise came out. He pushed his fingers up into her and rubbed them on the front wall of her passage. That was all it took. Pam started to tremble and pant as the orgasm hit. Her vagina clamped around his fingers over and over.

Pam slumped forward and leaned onto Martin. She buried her face in his wet chest. "I can't believe what you do to me. I can't believe how I feel when I'm with you."

Martin took his hand off her breast and lifted her chin. "It can't be any better than how I feel when I'm with you." He kept his hand on her chin as he kissed her.

They stayed in the shower for several more minutes, soaping each other and caressing each other's bodies in the warm spray. Martin turned off the multiple jets and retrieved a couple of fresh towels, which they used to dry each other.

"Woman," he said, "I could get used to this."

They slowly dressed and headed out into the hall. Martin stopped and looked out the window. "It's really nice out, huh?"

"Yes, it's beautiful. It's a perfect day," said Pam, wrapping her arm around his waist and looking out the window with him.

"I think Amber could use a walk," he said. "There's a park down the road. How about the three of us get out of here and soak up some sunshine? It would give us a chance to spend some more time together." Pam nodded and Martin kissed her tenderly. He walked over to the bottom of the third-floor stairs.

"Amber," Martin called up to her. "Any dogs around here who want to go for a walk?" Seconds later, they heard the dog jump up overhead and charge down the stairs.

"Martin, that dog doesn't just wag her tail, she wags her whole body," Pam laughed, as the Golden crashed into his legs.

Martin squatted down and ran his hands roughly through her fur. "That's 'cause my girl loves her walks," he said, nuzzling his face into her neck. "You're a big bundle of happiness, aren't you darlin'?" Pam thought it was adorable, how much he loved the Golden.

Amber trotted down the stairs in front of them. Martin grabbed the leash from beside the door and the dog sat patiently as he snapped the clip onto her collar. "Okay, girl," he said, "let's go for a nice walk. Maybe you'll get to chase some of those nasty squirrels."

When they reached the sidewalk, Martin turned his attention back to Pam. "Would you like to walk Amber?" he asked. Pam quickly shook her head. "Oh, no. I haven't walked a dog since I was a teenager – and that was a beagle. I couldn't handle a big dog like that."

Martin rolled his eyes. "You? Don't give me that! You could handle anything! Besides, Amber was trained by a professional before I adopted her, and I've kept up her training by myself and with the help of an expert dog walker. She won't give you any trouble," he said, extending the leash. Pam looked at the leash guardedly and back to Martin, who nodded encouragingly.

"Okay," she said warily. "I'll give it a try." Pam took the leash from Martin and held it like wet rag. The couple walked along the sidewalk and admired the beautiful gardens that were emerging in front of the houses they passed. "Martin," Pam said a few minutes into their walk, "you were right. I hardly even know there's a dog on the end of this leash. I thought she'd be pulling me all over the place, but I hardly even need to hold onto this thing."

Martin looked at Amber and back to Pam. "What did I tell you? You're going to have to learn to trust me, lady. I would never give you anything I didn't think you could handle." He stopped at the corner. "That's Withrow Park over there. I sometimes come to a farmers' market here on Saturday mornings. It started up for the season a few weeks ago. There's an off-leash area, but it's not surrounded by a fence. Sometimes Amber and I break the rules a little and I let her have a good run through the park if there's no one else around." They waited for a few cars to pass and crossed the street. "She's really good. If she wanders away a bit, she always comes when I call her."

Martin set Amber free at the off-leash area and she quickly romped over to two other dogs and started playing. Martin and Pam sat at a picnic table. After a minute, Martin reached over and took Pam's hand. "You know," he said quietly, "back at the house, that was amazing – but even holding hands with you is wonderful – especially after having to keep my hands to myself for so long."

Pam leaned into Martin's shoulder and they sat in silence for a while, watching the dogs play. Pam closed her eyes. The minutes began to evaporate. Sounds seemed to fade far into the distance as she listened to the sound of Martin breathing. The sun was hot on her face and everything smelled green. "You falling asleep on me?" Pam moaned very softly. "I should be, after the workout you gave me." Martin kissed her cheek and turned his attention back to Amber, who galloped alongside a huge mastiff.

A while later, a cloud passed over the sun and Pam opened her eyes. She glanced around the park at the trees and marvelled at the varied shades of green. Martin noticed her eyes were once again open. "You're back with me?" She lifted her head off his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

"I guess I'd better call back my dog," he said. Martin whistled and called her. Amber immediately turned her head toward his voice and came running over to the picnic table.

"That's my good girl." Martin clipped the lead onto her collar. "How about we start ambling back?" Martin walked the dog on the way back, holding hands with Pam. Amber went running for her water dish seconds after they entered the house.

Pam turned to Martin and they stood close. "You have to go now, don't you?" Pam nodded. "Let me hold you one more minute. That'll take me through the rest of the weekend." Pam stepped into his embrace and he held her tightly. They kissed solidly before Martin walked her to his front door.

"I really enjoyed our business meeting, Ms. Williams. Perhaps we'll need to debrief next week in case we missed any details."

Pam's eyes felt wet. "Debriefing sounds perfect. Have a nice weekend, Martin." With that, she left and hopped into her car for the drive back out of the city.

In her driveway at home, Pam went around to the back of her car and retrieved the two bags from the trunk. When she entered the house, she heard a radio playing. She walked back to the deck and found Dave reclining on a lounge chair with a beer. He sat up a bit and looked at her. "You back so soon? I figured you'd be another couple of hours."

Pam lifted her bags. "Well, I found a few things I liked, so I thought I'd quit while I was ahead. There's always next weekend. I'll go put these away and then grab myself a glass of wine and join you." Dave pulled his baseball cap over his eyes and leaned back onto the chair again. "Sounds good. Grab me another beer on your way back, if you don't mind, please."

Pam went to the bedroom and took the shirts and pants out of the bags, taking her first really good look at them. The shirts had low necklines and the pants were comfy capris in pastel colours, which she loved. "These are actually not bad – I should impulse shop more often." She pulled off the price tags and hung them on her side of the closet before heading into the kitchen, grabbing the drinks and plunking down beside Dave outside on the matching lounge chair.

"We should order in tonight," said Pam. "I don't feel like cooking." Dave nodded. "Sure. What should we order?" Pam contemplated for a moment. "How about some Thai food?" Dave grimaced. "Thai food! You know I don't like that kind of stuff. How about pizza?" Pam huffed. "You might like it if you would only try it. I have a take-out menu from Thai Palace. I'll get you some plain rice and little pieces of breaded chicken in that sweet sauce. You'll like that, Dave."

"Yeah...I guess that sounds okay." Pam smiled. "I know Samantha is out, but I heard Dylan upstairs, so I guess he'll be joining us. I'll get a few of those spicy Sambal dishes for him and me. That way everyone will be happy."

"That's your specialty," Dave said, "keeping everyone happy. I know I don't say this very often, but you know, you are a damned fine woman." Pam felt a small knot form in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes suddenly prickled. She cleared her throat and stood up, her legs shaky. "I'll go place that order now so that we don't have to wait too long." Pam almost tripped on the bottom railing of the deck door as she entered the house. She hurried to the kitchen and poured all of her attention into the Thai Palace take-out menu, circling several items with a pen before making the call and placing the order for her family's Saturday night meal.

Dave had been right. Everyone was happy with the meal. Pam was glad to see Dylan eating so well again. "I'm going to have the rest of this stuff for breakfast tomorrow," Dylan announced happily at the end of the meal. As Dylan went back to his room, Pam wrapped up the leftovers and put them in the fridge for her son to attack in the morning. "Breakfast to him is probably noon, so I guess it's not that odd of a meal for him when he finally gets up," Pam said to Dave.

"I don't remember sleeping in like that when I was a teenager," Dave responded. "I kind of liked to stick to my routines and get up at the same time every day."

Pam glanced at him wryly. "You mean like you still do every day?" Dave shrugged and got up to put his plate in the dishwasher. Pam was rinsing a cup at the sink when Dave sauntered up beside her and placed a hand on the ass of her jeans. "So," he said, leaning in to her ear, "are you all rested up from your work week yet?" He kissed the side of her neck. Pam shut off the water and set the glass carefully in the sink. Dave pulled away the neck of her shirt and kissed where her neck met her shoulder. "You smell great," he said. Pam flashed back to Martin rubbing the shower gel all over her body and shivered.

Dave fondled her ass and brought his lips around to press into the front of her collarbone. Pam tilted her head back. She moaned softly as he kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. Taking that as a sign of approval, Dave turned her fully toward him, reached around and grabbed both of her butt cheeks, pulling her hips tight against him. Warmth spread between her legs. Pam brought her head forward again and met her husband's eyes. "You wanna?" he said. Pam felt a burning start up between her legs. She nodded. The couple headed to the bedroom. Dave locked the door behind them.

Pam and Dave stood on their own sides of the bed and stripped down to their underwear. They both climbed onto the bed and met facing each other in the middle, their heads resting on pillows. Pam put her arm around Dave and let it dangle over his back while he slowly stroked up and down the side of her body. He lingered on the curve between her waist and hip, massaging the flesh there.

Pam squeezed her eyes shut tightly. I shouldn't be feeling this way. This afternoon was more pleasure than any woman has a right to. I must be insane. Dave's hand fondled her bare ass, his fingers stroking the inside of her butt cheeks. That feels so good. I'm throbbing already. Maybe having great sex makes you want more and more sex.

Pam wriggled forward and teased her hand down Dave's chest and stomach, twirling her index finger in his belly button. She caressed his soft, full belly in circles, inching it incrementally downward until her hand slipped into his shorts. Dave followed suit, dragging his hand forward over her hip and letting it rest between her legs. The couple looked into each other's eyes for a moment and began to kiss.

They fondled each other with their hands as they made out. Dave made a low noise in the back of his throat as Pam wrapped her fingers around his cock and set up a rhythm, stroking his length up and down. Dave dipped his fingers into Pam and found that she was very wet. He plunged them in and out while rubbing the heel of his hand on the upper part of her anatomy.

"Open your mouth more," Pam insisted. Dave did as she asked and Pam swirled her tongue around his. Her hips thrusted quicker as she pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth. _I'm so turned on. This isn't going to take long_. Dave swiftly took off his shorts and started tugging at Pam's underwear. That made the elastic dig into the other side of her hip, so Pam reached down and pushed them off, squirming until they were around her ankles and then kicking them onto the floor.

Sensing his wife was already pretty fired up, Dave pulled away from her mouth for a moment. "Can you put me inside you?" She threw her leg over his hip and grasped his cock firmly. Dave wasn't huge, but he filled her hand. It was a bit awkward in a frontal position, but she managed to plunge him into her. She locked lips onto her husband's.

Dave immediately began to thrust. Pam reached around and grabbed his ass. With each thrust, she tugged on his ass, pulling him in forcefully toward her. Her clit was being delightfully battered with each stroke of his cock. Dave tried to pull his mouth away from her, but she was having none of that. Her other hand was wrapped around the pillow above his head and she grasped a handful of his hair and yanked. Dave's whimper made her smile with her lips still on him. The sound also tweaked something down below and Pam felt a tremendous rush of heat. She tightened her leg around his hip, encouraging him to thrust harder.

Dave complied and Pam came within seconds. She pressed her lips against his mouth even harder as the orgasm hit her. When she finally pulled her mouth away, Dave gasped and panted. The renewed air in his lungs travelled straight south, and a moment later, his body jerked and shuddered as he came.

Dave's breathing slowed after a moment. Still inside her, he looked at his wife and commented, "That was a little different. We don't usually cum so close together." Pam sank her head into the pillow and gazed at the sweat on her husband's forehead. "It had been a while. I guess we were both really in need," he added.

Pam slipped her leg off his hip and he slid out of her, creating a sizeable wet spot on the sheets. She reached down and trailed her finger through it, drawing tiny figure eights in the wetness. Dave closed his eyes and absently stroked her hair.

"That was real nice, Pam." They lay quietly for a moment. "Was that what people call vanilla sex?" Pam giggled and tickled his ribs. "Oh, I don't know. I like vanilla, but I'd say that was at least chocolate chip cookie dough sex, don't you think?" They both laughed.

# chapter twenty-one

Dave's body had been keeping her warm when it was pressed up against her, but now that they were apart, Pam started to feel a chill on her bare skin. The window was open a crack and the cool evening air was giving her goosebumps.

"I'm freezing, Dave – I'm going to have to put something on." Dave made a "hmmmm" sound and stroked her hip. "If you must," he said. She got up and went to the closet, choosing some comfy yoga pants and a pale yellow pullover.

"How about we go watch a movie," said Dave. "I bought a stack of those cheap DVDs at Best Buy a few months ago and we still haven't looked at them." Pam frowned playfully. "That's because you were watching the Leafs all winter. It really is a lost cause, you know."

Dave shook his head as he sat up and swung his legs around his side of the bed. "Don't be so negative, Pam. They _might_ make it to the finals _some day_." Pam laughed. "That's what I love about you, Dave. You can always find hope in almost anything." She paused. "Even the Leafs."

A half hour later, Pam and Dave were in their downstairs rec room watching _Apocalypse Now_. Pam had seen bits and pieces of it on TV over the years, but hadn't seen it in its entirely since it came out late the summer of 1979. She remembered lying to the ticket taker about her age, because it was restricted and she wasn't 18. It scared the living crap out of her back then and she was curious how she would react as an adult viewer.

Dave sat passively in his leather chair and watched the movie in silence. Pam felt her teenage fear creep back as Martin Sheen watched several crew members massacred on a rickety boat heading down a river in the middle of the Vietnamese jungle. Pam jumped when Dave laughed at the wigged-out rant by Dennis Hopper. It was so seldom she heard him laugh out loud like that. The movie was horrifying but entrancing. By the end of the film, when Marlon Brando muttered, "The horror. The horror," Pam felt absolutely drained of emotion.

Dave got up, popped out the DVD and set it back into its case. "Well, what did you think? That was kind of fun, huh?" Pam stared at her husband in disbelief. " _Fun_? You call that _fun_?" Dave snorted and waved his hand at her. "Ah, Pam, it's only a movie. Anyway, watching unspeakable evil _can_ be fun. I guess it's a guy thing."

Pam nodded and said half-heartedly, "Yeah, I guess it must be."

The next morning, Pam awoke to Dave standing over her and touching her cheek. The fruity smell of shampoo filled her nostrils. "I'm off to golf, hon. You have a nice morning." Pam yawned and stretched. "Are you going golfing _every_ Sunday?" Dave shook his head and bent down to kiss her. "No, not every Sunday. Not once the snow starts to fly again."

Pam groaned and snuggled back into her pillow. "Have a good time, Dave." When she looked up again, Dave was gone.

A few hours later, Pam stumbled into the kitchen to make her usual strong cup of Sunday morning coffee. She'd poured her first cup when the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Hey, my sweetie. Did I wake you?"

Pam took a sip of her coffee. "No, Hannah, you didn't wake me. I've been up for at least six minutes."

Hannah giggled. "I have not heard _one word_ from you _all week_ , Pam. I've been very good. I haven't called you – even though I've been dying to. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Pam walked to the living room and grabbed a dark green throw off the sofa. "Hannah, give me a minute, okay?" Pam walked over to the deck door and went outside, closing it behind her. She wrapped the throw around herself and reclined into a lounge chair that was bathed in late morning sunlight. She set her coffee on a small table and put the phone to her ear.

"Hi, Hannah. I decided to step outside onto the deck." She picked up her coffee and took another sip. "I'd try to be evasive with you, but I know that would never work in a million years. What do you want to know?"

Hannah didn't skip a beat. "You know what I want to know! Did anything happen? What happened? Are you madly and passionately in love?"

Pam sighed. "That's three questions, Hannah."

"Fine. Answer them one at a time."

"Okay. One – yes." She paused. "Two – probably exactly what you think happened – with some frequency, in fact." She paused longer before answering the third question, and when she did, she answered it quietly. "Three – I'm not sure. But...he said it was too late for me to ask _him_ not to fall in love with _me_."

Hannah whistled through her teeth. "Oh, my god! All of that surprises me. I really didn't think you were going to say all that! Pam, _a lot_ has happened. You've been busy!"

"Yeah, well I'm not sure what to think. It's exhilarating, but this is something totally new to me. I'm lying to my husband, Hannah, and part of me has this crushing guilt about that. But somehow, when I'm with Dave, it's like Martin is light years away – and when I'm with Martin, it seems like home might as well be in a different galaxy."

"Girl, you have the type of problem most women would kill to have – two relationships that satisfy different, but fundamental yearnings in you. You have a husband who needs you and who you can nurture. You also have someone who adores you and exists purely to satisfy your every earthly desire. The question is – can you keep those two relationships rolling without knocking out one of them?"

Pam's coffee wasn't as scorching hot anymore and she downed half of it before answering. "My hope is – yes. Martin and I set down some ground rules yesterday, like you suggested. We can only call each other on special cell phones, he can't ask me to leave Dave, we both want more than just sex...we wrote a bunch of stuff down on a piece of paper."

"More than sex?" Hannah giggled.

"Yes, Hannah, more than sex," she said, good-humouredly. "There _is_ more to life than _sex_ , you know."

"Yeah, but nothing is much better," she deadpanned. Both women laughed.

Pam changed the subject and asked if Raj had made any more fantastic meals. Hannah told her about the past week's incredible menu and complained that Raj was going to make her too fat even for sweatpants. The two friends chatted for more than an hour "about nothing" – as Raj would say.

The air was still and the sun had become strong enough for Pam to unwrap herself from the throw. Her stomach growled loudly. "Hannah, I realized that I haven't eaten anything yet. I'm starving."

"Oh, sweetie; you _have_ to eat." She paused for a moment. "After all, you need to keep up your strength...you're fucking for two now." Hannah giggled wickedly. Pam was happy Hannah wasn't there to see the colour rise in her cheeks. "Thanks for the advice. I'll go have a plate of oysters or something," she said. "I'll keep in touch about – events."

There was a pause and Pam could almost hear the wheels turning in Hannah's head.

"About that. I definitely want to know what's going on...but...maybe we shouldn't use Facebook chat."

Pam furrowed her eyebrows. "Why not? What do you mean?"

Hannah sighed deeply. "Pam, there are some things you are going to have to learn. What you type into chat is potentially _traceable_. A lot of things are traceable these days. If you want to keep everything you have in your life intact, then you have to use your brain and be very, very careful."

Pam had seldom heard Hannah use such a stern and serious tone. "Okay, Hannah," she said, "You really do want the best for me, don't you? I'll try to be careful. I've never had anyone other than you truly adore me before. I don't want to fuck this up."

"Then don't," said Hannah. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah," Pam chuckled. "I think I figured that out a while back. You have yourself a nice Sunday, okay? Ummm....I love you too," she said, and hung up.

When she went back into the house, Dylan was reheating Thai food in the microwave. "You want some of this, Mom?" It smelled incredible. "Sure, Dylan, let's share it and eat it all. I'm famished."

On Monday morning, Pam stopped by Pinches' office. He had always told his employees he had an "open door policy" and he was true to his word. His door was wide open and he cheerfully welcomed Pam to come in.

"Well, Pam, did you enjoy that beautiful spring weekend we had?" Pam sat across from his desk. "Yes, it was quite lovely. How about you?"

"Oh, it was fantastic. My daughter brought over the grandkids yesterday and my wife and I had a great time with them. I guess you've seen those bumper stickers, 'I wish I could have had grandchildren first.' Well, let me tell you, I really get that now. I love my own kids, but they were so difficult to raise and it took such a huge chunk of my life. With grandkids, you get all the fun you want out of them...and then...someone takes them home at the end of the day!" Pinches guffawed and slapped his knee. Pam smiled politely.

"But enough about the weekend. How can I help you this morning, Pam?"

"Actually, I was going to try to help you."

Pinches looked impressed. "Now that's what I like to hear from an employee on a Monday morning. What's up?"

Pam reminded Pinches of what he had said to her about Martin and how, as a senior member of the staff, she had some ideas for mentoring him. It would require some time, but she agreed Martin had potential and was "worth the effort."

"That's wonderful, Pam. I really like when staff members share their knowledge and educate each other. Peer mentorship is much better than anything I could do with them. I'm sure you can learn a lot from each other."

Pam smiled and nodded. "I was thinking of a regular weekly meeting with Mr. Campbell – perhaps even off-site. I could provide you with a monthly report about anything we come up with."

"Excellent, excellent," Pinches nodded. "Make certain to put it in your Outlook calendars so that no one tries to book you into some other meeting during those time periods." Pinches rubbed his chin. "Summer always seems to be a bit slower around here – half the world seems to be on vacation. It's a good time to step back from the table and come up with new ideas. And I have a feeling this Martin fellow is full of them."

"Yes, Mr. Pinches. I'm sure he is. I'll go tell him the news right now," she said, rising out of the chair. Pinches stood up and extended his hand across the table. "Good luck." Pam shook his hand and nodded curtly before exiting his office.

She walked half way down the hall and stopped. She leaned on the wall, taking a deep breath. "Baby steps," she whispered. "One little step at a time."

Continuing down the hall, she came to Martin's office. "Nice outfit," he said, looking her up and down. Pam was wearing the pale blue capris and soft pink shirt she had bought on Friday and stashed in the trunk of her car. Martin was watching her passively but his eyes spoke volumes.

"I had a meeting with Mr. Pinches." Martin was wearing an almost-smile. "Uh-huh." Pam took a step into his office. "He thinks you're full of it." Martin's eyebrows shot up. "Full of good ideas that is." Martin allowed the smile to develop. "He would love for me to be your 'peer mentor' and thinks we can learn a lot from each other." Martin looked at her sideways.

"No way...you're making that up."

Pam gave him the same 'scouts honour' salute she'd seen him make several times.

"He even agreed to weekly meetings – off-site if we want them to be."

Martin mockingly leered at her. "I'm starting to like this Pinches guy more and more." Pam closed the door behind her.

"Wait a minute, Martin. I know this is a great opportunity for us, but I also had to tell him that we'd provide him with reports." Martin chuckled suggestively. "That ought to be interesting!"

"Not those kind of reports."

"We actually do have to come up with some sort of ideas and write them down," she continued. "That's the only way we're going to be able to get away with this." Martin grinned. "Pam, I'm sure between the two of us, we can sneak a little extra work into our regular week. We can both dump our ideas into an online folder I'll create and we'll jam something together for the end of each month. Frankly, I have enough ideas to legitimately keep us in _mentor-land_ for quite a while."

Pam noticed how the pitch of his voice dropped lower when he spoke quietly. She couldn't keep her eyes off his full, pink lips while he was talking. "Ms. Williams, are you listening to me?" She swiftly altered the direction of her gaze and looked into his eyes.

"Martin, stop it," she said sternly. He cocked his head to the side. "Stop what, Ms. Williams?" She walked over to his desk and stood in front of him. "You know what! That smile. I know what you're doing. Put away that smile. You know what it does to me."

"Yes...I do," he said slowly. "I've known for quite some time."

"We said we would be _good_ in the office," she warned.

"But I am being _good_ , Ms. Williams. My hands are flat on my desk and I haven't moved so much as an inch. You, on the other hand, started in my doorway and are now close enough to sit in my lap. However did that happen?" _He has me there. May as well up the ante._

Pam took one more step forward and planted her shoe between his feet. She lifted her leg and rubbed the inside of her knee high against his inner thigh, moving it in tiny, sensuous circles. Martin's mouth dropped open and he stared down at her leg. She shifted it even higher, close to his groin, and grazed it across the bulge in his pants. The smile had left his face. It was replaced by a look of pure lust. He lifted his eyes and leered at her.

"Cock tease!" he whispered.

Now it was Pam's turn to grin. She stepped back and walked swiftly across his office, opening the door. "Mr. Campbell, I'd like you to watch your Outlook. I have a meeting invitation to send to you for later this week."

Martin glared at her. "The sooner, the better," he said gruffly. Pam smiled sweetly and headed back to her office.

The next couple of days passed quietly at Pinches Public Relations. Pinches completed the final sign-offs on the Brown Shoes account and distributed several smaller projects among the consultants. Pam was working on media releases for a number of regular clients. It was something she could almost do in her sleep, but at least it put her writing skills to good use. She didn't see much of Martin, except for in the hallway and lunchroom. They were both being careful not to make eye contact unless they had to. Pam had sent him a meeting request through Outlook for Wednesday at 2 p.m. – it took all of six seconds for him to respond. She had already talked to Dave about having a late meeting on Wednesday and told him it might involve a business dinner afterwards.

"Who's paying?" he had asked. "The company," she responded. "Then go for it. Order the most expensive item on the menu." Pam wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She settled for a quick, "Good idea."

Pam couldn't concentrate on her media releases on Wednesday morning. She kept glancing at the bottom right of her computer screen, watching the minutes plod forward. Around 10:30 a.m., her computer made an unfamiliar 'ping' sound. A pop-up box opened on the right side of the screen and the text said, "Ready for our meeting this aft?" Pam had never seen a pop-up box like that before. It didn't even have a name on it.

"What the hell is this?" she typed. A couple of seconds later, she saw, "Inter-office chat, compliments of your local, friendly social media specialist." Pam stared at the words.

"Are you nuts? Hannah told me chat is traceable."

A devilish emoticon appeared. "Hmmmm...remind me to ask you what you and Hannah talked about. Anyway, yes, my sexy lady, much online traffic is traceable. But in the hands of an expert, who could probably hack into any electronic account you have, it's about as untraceable as it gets."

"You sure?" She waited. "Nothing is an absolute in cyberspace, but yes, I am pretty sure. Thought I'd let you know that I booked Amber into doggie daycare today...no one to interrupt or lick your toes...ummmm....wait a minute...that can be me." Pam typed a response. "Maybe no toe licking. But...I was wondering if there are any parts of _you_ that are especially tasty." The pop-up box sat empty for a minute.

"Woman, you kill me!" flashed across the screen before the pop-up disappeared.

Pam and Martin left together around 2 p.m., taking separate cars. They had already decided that separate cars would not only look less suspicious, it would also give them extra time in the long run. On the days Martin needed to pick up Amber, driving back to Pinches was out of the way.

#  chapter twenty-two

Pam pulled in behind the Audi in Martin's driveway and followed him up the steps into house. Once inside, they made what was becoming their usual trek to the kitchen. Pam set down her purse and they stared at each other silently across the kitchen table. Martin had his hands neatly folded in front of him.

"Ahhhhh....is this one of those times we talked about when we're _not_ going to have sex?" asked Martin.

Pam walked around to Martin's side of the table, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately. As they both came up for air, he mumbled, "Good answer!" They swiftly headed upstairs to his bedroom. Martin removed his jacket, shirt, tie and socks before they lay down on the bed.

Martin ran his hands along Pam's sides, grasped the bottom of her shirt, pulled it over her head, and tossed it onto the bed. He leaned in and kissed low on Pam's neck, drawing out one of those moans he longed to hear. Pam swiftly crawled on top of Martin and kissed him fervently, her tongue probing toward the back of his throat. Martin's head started spinning as Pam pressed herself into his groin, squirming on top of him with her pants and bra still on.

Martin pulled his mouth away. "Hey, _mentor lady_ , take it easy," he said, bringing a bemused look to Pam's face.

"No!" she said, swiftly continuing to plunder his mouth and grind her hips into him.

Pam's aggressiveness was doing something to him. He reached around behind her and undid her bra, pulling it off and tossing it to the end of the bed. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed up until she was well above him. He gazed at the view he had created. "God damn, woman, but you have beautiful mammaries. Bring them down to my mouth."

Pam looked at him blankly for a moment before she burst out laughing.

"Mammaries!" Pam laughed so hard that she snorted several times. "Oh, my god, Martin – who says _mammaries_?"

Martin was grinning up at her. He placed his hands on the mounds of flesh dangling in front of his face. "Ahhh...I don't know. It just came to me. They seemed too nice for the word breasts. And I'm not sure how you feel about...ummm...let's see...tits, boobs, knockers, bazooms, melons, hooters, jugs, taa taas, puppies...the list could go on and on."

They were both laughing now. "Well, whatever you call them, you're about to get buried in them," Pam giggled. She leaned all the way forward and smothered Martin's face with her generous female offerings.

Martin pretended to struggle for air for a moment. Pam was still laughing but the laugh quickly changed into a whimper when Martin sucked her left nipple forcefully into his mouth. Pam realized what he was attempting to do – he was trying to fill his mouth with her breast. He was sucking hard, pressing in his tongue and, every once in a while, biting down fairly hard.

The sensation was equally agonizing and wonderful. Pam shuddered from the combination of pressure, suction and pain. He switched his actions to the other breast. It was one of those times she almost wanted to say 'stop,' but the novelty of the sensation was perversely enthralling. She finally couldn't stand it anymore and pulled away. Her breast created a loud 'pop' as it left his mouth.

Martin had a disoriented look as she got back down on her side. He rolled toward her and she began to kiss him slowly, playing with the waistband of his suit pants. She rubbed her hand across the cotton, feeling his swollen member through the fabric. Touching it through his pants was enough to make her shiver. She undid the belt and zipper and slithered down the bed, pulling off his pants and underwear.

Martin groaned deeply at the realization of what she was about to do. He was on his back and his cock was standing at attention, pointed slightly to the side. Pam took a moment to look. She'd never really taken a good look at his penis before. It was average length, but much thicker than Dave's. His pubic hair was jet black and stood out distinctly against the white skin of his flat stomach. Slowly, she lowered herself and casually rested her head on his hip, the couple lying in a T-position, with Pam's legs extended across the bed. His cock smelled vaguely of leather.

She extended her tongue and experimentally licked the bottom of his shaft. Martin was already breathing rapidly. Pam licked her palm and wrapped her hand around his cock. She knew he was thick, but was nonetheless surprised that one hand could not quite fit all the way around. She squirmed forward and kissed his tip, while cupping his tightening balls in her other hand. Martin sighed raggedly. He reached across the bed for a few more pillows and propped himself up.

Opening her lips wide, Pam filled her mouth with Martin, and as he groaned, she felt a throbbing start up between her legs. Martin kept himself still as Pam experimented with how far she could get him into her mouth, sliding her lips up and down. She nuzzled her nose gently into his balls and the hair tickled her nose. She took her time alternating kisses and licks all over his shaft, stopping at the top to flick the tip of her tongue in and out of his slit.

"Oh, please!" Martin groaned. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Pam stopped and leered up at him. "Yes...I think I do!"

Martin gave her a pained expression and Pam laughed softly. His eyes narrowed and he grabbed her hair. "Suck me," he mock-growled. "With pleasure," Pam said, lowering her head. He loosened his grip and stroked her hair as she bobbed her head up and down in time with his thrusts. With the other hand, Martin pulled at Pam's hip, maneuvering her bottom closer to him. When her ass was close enough, he started pushing at her pants. Pam helped by undoing her zipper and shoving her pants and underwear down far enough so her bottom was fully exposed. Martin shoved her legs apart and started fingering her vagina. It was exceptionally moist. As he explored inside, he felt appreciative groans coming from her throat and vibrating onto his shaft. The vibrations intensified when he started massaging her clit. They maintained their mutual pleasuring for several minutes, the noises from both of them growing in volume.

Martin's expert fingers were sending Pam almost over the edge and she sucked on him harder the more wound up she became. His shaft was rock hard and didn't leave much cushioning for her tender lips. The insides of her lips were starting to feel raw from her teeth rubbing against them as he thrusted enthusiastically into her mouth. He hit the back of her throat a few times and she thought she might gag, but managed to pull back and take slow breaths to suppress the reflex. She tasted his pre-cum and grew more excited. Pam noticed his testicles had tightened to the size of golf ball.

Pam stroked the dimple in the middle of the 'golf ball' and heard a lengthy "aaaahhhhh" escape from Martin's throat. He started shoving his fingers into her very firmly and stroking her anus with his thumb. When he began to shallowly penetrate her ass with his thumb, Pam involuntarily shuddered.

In her heightened state of arousal, she sucked on Martin twice as hard and his hand pushed down firmly on her head. "Yeah...oh yeah," she heard him cry out. An unstopping string of words and utterances spilled from his mouth. "Yeah, yeah...oh yes... ahhhh...oh Pamela that's it...ooooo baby...oh that's so good...haaaahhh...oh don't stop...please, please, please...yeah, take me in...take me in as far as you can...oh you're so good...it's so perfect...ohhhh...Pamela, I love you...I love you...I love you so much."

Pam took him as far back as she could into her throat and with one last guttural sound, he shot into her mouth. She hadn't planned on counting, but Pam felt his cock pulsate eight times. He shot so far back into her throat that she was able to swallow without tasting much of anything. She kept moving her mouth slowly up and down, using her tongue to stroke him gently. He had stopped talking but he stroked her hair and made a continual "ooohhhhhh" noise as she lapped at him with her tongue.

"Oh, Pam," he eventually whispered, "that was so amazing." He breathed in and out very slowly several times.

"Rest your head on my legs for a minute. I want to pay attention to you now."

During the last minute or so of her effort to please Martin, Pam had completely forgotten about her own needs, but she suddenly realized how incredibly aroused she was. She laid her head on Martin's thighs, his wet cock inches from her face, and draped her arms over his belly and legs. Martin started stroking her with his fingers again and she immediately responded to his touch. "Oh, god, Martin; I'm so engorged. Go slow and gentle," she whimpered.

"Okay," he said softly. Martin kneaded the insides of her thighs and massaged her bottom before bringing his fingers back down to her swollen flesh and probing her tenderly. "Mmmmmm," he said throatily, "I love the way you feel inside. You're so smooth and moist and warm. It excites me to have my fingers in your pussy."

Pam felt a rush of blood in her head.

Martin withdrew his fingers. He leaned over and opened the drawer to the night table beside the bed. He fumbled around in it for a moment before closing the drawer. "I did some shopping the other day," he said. Pam craned her head around and saw Martin unscrew the lid from a plastic tube and remove a foil security tab with his teeth before screwing the lid back on. He flipped the lid and squirted a generous amount of K-Y Jelly onto his fingers and thumb.

Martin returned his hand to Pam. He plunged his fingers inside her vagina and slid his thumb up and down over her anus. Pam squirmed and pushed her bottom up slightly. "Do you like this? Do you like when I play with your little pink rosebud?" _I really don't think anyone's asked me that before_. Pam moaned deeply. "Oh, Martin, it's surprisingly wonderful," she breathed. "I'm so aroused right now that anything you do to me would feel good."

Pam looked up and saw Martin smiling. He kept moving his fingers in and out of her vagina, but brought them up to circle her clit whenever he played with her anus. Each time, he penetrated a little deeper with his thumb, the lubricant making it easy to enter her.

"Oh, Martin," she said, her voice shaky, "I've never felt that much pleasure in that part of my anatomy before." Pam was lifting her bottom in time with his movements, alternately relaxing and squeezing her sphincter. The sensation of having her vagina, clitoris and anus stimulated simultaneously was mind-blowing. She wrapped her arms tightly around his torso and legs, clenched her jaw and felt her eyes rolling back. She wanted to tell him not to stop, but couldn't seem to form the words. Pam started to quiver all over.

Martin suddenly applied an enormous amount of pressure to the front of her pussy and moved his fingers in circles around her clit. Pam screamed as everything inside her unexpectedly clamped down and began to contract over and over. Her whole world seemed to exist only between her legs – she couldn't breathe and was certain her heart had stopped. Martin's thumb was pushed well into her anus and she involuntarily squeezed it, feeling waves of delight where she had never experienced them before. The sensations continued for at least a minute.

Martin stilled his fingers and thumb, but kept up the pressure. Pam felt several more contractions rolling around inside her and couldn't identify exactly where they were coming from. She took in a deep breath and let it out raggedly. She loosened her grip on his legs and looked into his eyes. "You really are a genius."

Martin grinned and gently massaged her internally for another minute before withdrawing his thumb and placing his hand on her bottom, squeezing her buttocks with his slippery fingers. "I don't know about that," he said, "but I do aim to please."

"You did that...and then some!"

She lifted her head off his legs and wriggled up the bed to lay face-to-face with him. He stroked her cheek with the hand he hadn't used inside of her. They kissed gently for several minutes, their bodies pressed close.

"You never cease to surprise or amaze me, Pamela." Pam's breath was taken away by the tenderness of his expression. She had no idea what to say. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.

Pam smiled and turned over, snuggling her back into him and pulling his arm over her. His hand rested on her belly. They lay in blissful silence for a while, both of them breathing slowly and peacefully.

"Martin?"

"Hmmmmm..."

"Will you tell me something?"

"Uh-huh," he mumbled groggily.

"Why haven't you had a woman in your bed in three years?"

Pam felt Martin's body immediately stiffen behind her. His hand dropped from her belly onto the mattress. He was very quiet.

Martin rolled away onto his back. "I told you about that," he said gruffly.

Pam turned over and faced him. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was staring at the ceiling with that same sad, faraway look she'd seen on him so many times. She spoke cautiously. "No, you didn't. You said you'd been in a long-term relationship."

Martin kept staring at the ceiling but eventually nodded. He spoke very slowly. "That's right. I was." He looked at her briefly but then stared at the ceiling again. "I lived with someone for a few years. I'd never met anyone like her before in my life. I was madly in love with her. We finally decided to get married." He was smiling now, but Pam thought it was a sad little smile.

"My folks were thrilled," he continued. "They adored her. The wedding was coming up soon and they called me. Dad insisted on paying for something and wanted to take us out for dinner to discuss it."

Martin sighed deeply. "My folks lived out in the west end and my fiancé was working at a ballet school near there. They offered to pick her up from work on the way. I thought that was great." Martin paused for a moment. His voice was even quieter when he continued.

"After picking her up, Dad hopped on the 401. It was only a few minutes over to Yonge Street, but I guess he thought he'd save a couple of minutes on the highway. There's one spot there where the highway curves a bit."

Pam felt the blood drain from her face in the pause that followed. Martin spoke evenly but slowly.

"There were already three cars piled up in front of them." He was quiet for a minute before speaking again. "They didn't have a chance. By the time it was over, there were six cars in a heap behind them. One of them was basically on top of Dad's Caddy. I lost all of them in one day – Mom, Dad and SuLyn."

Pam felt like she had swallowed an apple whole and it was stuck in her throat. Tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Martin, I had no idea. I can't even imagine...I'm so sorry."

"Wait," he said, staring at the ceiling. "It gets better."

Martin turned his head toward her. "SuLyn was pregnant." Pam drew in a sharp breath.

"We hadn't told anyone. We hadn't planned it, but we were really happy. We didn't want anything to overshadow the wedding, so we were going to tell Mom and Dad and her parents afterward. I'm sure they would have been ecstatic, especially my parents, since I was an only child and this would have been their only chance to have grandchildren."

Martin lay back and stared at the ceiling again. Tears rolled down Pam's cheeks, but Martin's were dry. "I had a pretty horrific breakdown after the funerals. I never cried. I couldn't cry. I couldn't function. I felt out of sync with the world. I was totally fucked up."

"After a few months, the estate was settled. My fiancé and I had been living in my condo downtown, but we'd looked at houses around the Danforth. I thought a total change of scenery might snap me out of the crappy mental state I was in." He paused again. "I was wrong. It took me at least a year in this house to feel comfortable, let alone any better."

Pam set a hand lightly on top of Martin's. He flinched slightly when she touched him.

"Pam, that's about all I can tell you right now."

Pam inched over to him and snuggled into his side, wrapping her arm tightly around him. He uncrossed his arms and wrapped them around hers, hugging them into him.

"And then I met you," he whispered. "And I felt something inside of me wake up. I can't explain it any better than that." He picked up her hand, kissed the back of it and wrapped it around his side. He looked at the tears on Pam's face and wiped them away. "Hey, don't cry. I don't ever want to make you cry. I'm okay. Really!" Pam sniffed and wiped away another tear that threatened to spill down her cheek. Martin smiled at her – and this smile had no sadness.

"With you here beside me, I feel like nothing bad can ever happen to me again. You fill me with such pure joy," he said, kissing her deeply.

Pam smiled. "That makes me feel wonderful. Although I'm sorry you had to go through such pain and sorrow before finding joy in your life again."

Martin wrapped his hand around the back of Pam's neck and kissed her softly on the forehead. He stroked her hair. "No one ever said that life was fair – or kind. Sometimes we have to take life as it comes and grab happiness _wherever_ and _however_ we can get it," he said.

Pam stroked his cheek and nodded. They wrapped their arms around each other and lay quietly for several minutes.

"Can you stay, Pamela, or are you going to run out on me?" he said into her ear. Pam pulled back and looked at him, smiling. "Martin, I bet I can barely walk after _that_ , so no, I am not going to run. No one is expecting me home until mid-evening."

"So that means we can really spend some time together? Eat together? Just _be_ together?"

"Yes, Martin. We can just _be_."

Martin beamed. "That's exactly what I've wanted. I've wanted that for quite a while." He squeezed her tight and looked into her face. "Hey, let's go shopping!"

Pam shot him a look. "Shopping?" He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah – shopping! Let's go to a couple of the markets on the Danforth and I can buy some stuff and we can have a great dinner." Pam grimaced. "You want me to cook for you?" Martin laughed and shook his head. "No, no...I want us to cook _together_...to stand side by side in my kitchen and create something spicy and savoury and divine that we can devour together."

"Add a glass of red wine...and that sounds heavenly," she responded.

Pam and Martin lay in bed for a while, chatting softly. A while later, they got up to dress. Martin changed into jeans and a red T-shirt. They left in the Audi and parked on Danforth Avenue. Martin and Pam ambled through a number of open-air markets, picking up fresh vegetables, still-warm bread, a bottle of Malbec and a tray of baklava, swimming in honey. Martin made a detour on the way home to pick up Amber from doggie daycare. She seemed very happy to see Pam, who rubbed the dog's fur and kissed her on the top of the head.

"I think she's really getting to like you," said Martin. Pam wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to the dog.

Pam and Martin stood side by side in the kitchen, chopping onions, potatoes, eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, peppers and okra. Amber lay snoozing on a dog bed in the corner – her canine friends at doggie daycare had worn her out.

Pam wasn't even sure what they were cooking, but Martin dubbed himself "the king of spices," as he sprinkled generous amounts of parsley, mint, basil, oregano and garlic into the dish. Pam thought about the few times she and Hannah had cooked a meal together. It was eerily similar how cooking with Martin felt to that.

Martin arranged everything in a large casserole dish, drizzled olive oil on top and added a handful of capers before putting it in the oven and setting the timer. "Now, my dear, I think it's time to relax for a while with a glass of that wonderful red wine. He handed her two wine glasses, grabbed the bottle he had already opened and said, "Let's go somewhere comfy." Pam followed him upstairs to the room with the giant TV. They sank into the large leather sofa, leaning on each other.

He poured the wine and handed her a glass. The side of his mouth quirked up as he lifted his glass toward hers. "Here's to _being_." Pam sighed happily. "To _being_ ," she said softly, clinking glasses and taking a sip. She rolled it around in her mouth and swallowed, luxuriating in the bold, earthy taste it left on her tongue and in the back of her throat.

Martin kissed her neck where it met her shoulder. Pam flinched. She pulled away from him and Martin drew back, staring at her curiously. Pam sat stiffly.

"Is something wrong?" Pam peered into her wine glass. "I don't know," she said quietly. "You made me think of something." Martin wore a look of calm anticipation. She put down her wine glass and crossed her arms.

"Something happened last weekend, Martin. I was at home and Dave and I were alone in the kitchen." She stopped for a moment. Martin nodded.

"Well...ummm...he kissed me on the neck...like you did now...and then...and then we went to the bedroom." She set down the wine glass. "We made love, Martin. We had sex."

The room was quiet for a moment. Then Martin snorted. Pam looked at him, confused.

"You had sex with your husband?" Pam nodded slowly. "Is that what this is about?" She nodded again. "Pamela. I know you have sex with your husband. What kind of wife would you be if you didn't have sex with Dave?"

Pam brought her eyebrows together. "So, it doesn't bother you, then?"

He leaned back into the sofa and was silent for a minute. "I'm not saying it doesn't bother me. If I could have you all to myself, believe me, I would, but I know that's not in the cards. You have to live your life and that includes having a husband – and having a husband includes having sex. It doesn't change the way I feel about you. It never will."

"Honestly?"

"Yes. Honestly." Martin smiled. "Besides...from what I've experienced, you have a sexual appetite that I'm sure could never be quite satisfied by either Dave or me alone. Each of us is only one man." Pam blushed. "Also, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable talking to me about Dave. He's a key part of your family life, and I want you to feel free to share whatever you want about that life – whenever you want."

Pam was quiet for several minutes. She uncrossed her arms and leaned back into the sofa with Martin. They sat in silence, Martin's arm around her shoulders.

"How are you feeling, Pamela?" The question took her by surprise. "What do you mean?" Martin shrugged. "It's a simple question."

"It's a simple question that has no simple answer," she responded. She brought her feet up and sat cross-legged on the sofa. She ran her hand across the leather – it was butter-soft. "I feel like I've never felt before, so it's hard to describe. You electrify me to no end and then confuse the crap out of me by saying the kind of stuff you just said. I feel happy, guilty, a little bit scared...but I guess the strongest thing is this pervasive sense of wonder. The wonder that I'm here with you, that you want me to be here with you, and the wonder of what I see in your eyes every time you look at me." She took a sip of wine and set it back on the table. "To be perfectly honest with you, sometimes I see that look and I get so overwhelmed, I want to run away."

She glanced at Martin. He looked very emotional, but Pam couldn't tell what the emotion was.

"Pamela. I don't want you to ever feel like you need to run away. I want you to be able to look at me comfortably and know how I feel about you. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want, but I do want you to know it."

Pam nodded. "Hey," he said, his tone lighter, "did you know this is really a couch built for two? Come over here, woman." Pam leaned back against him and they extended their legs, reclining together. They closed their eyes and Martin moved his hand languidly over Pam's torso and breasts. They didn't fall asleep, but they lay dozily until the buzzer on the stove let them know their meal was ready. Amber started barking, jolting them back into reality.

Martin chuckled softly and helped Pam up. "She'll keep barking until I turn off the alarm." They went downstairs and Amber calmed as soon as Martin turned off the buzzer. "It's okay, sweetie," he said, "that nasty sound is gone." Pam sat at the table and Amber leaned against her. "Martin, I've never seen a dog that actually leans into people like this. She's really pushing into my legs," she said, amused.

Martin sliced some of the fresh bread on a wooden board and set it on the table. "I've always wondered about that too. It's strange behaviour for a dog. I guess she didn't get enough love before I adopted her and now she's trying to get as much as she can. She can be a real rascal," he said, scooping the contents of the casserole dish onto plates.

"We're eating now. Back to your bed, Amber," he said, his back turned to the dog. Amber trotted back to her bed and flopped down. Pam marvelled at the dog's level of obedience.

"And our gourmet meal is served," he said, setting down a plate first for Pam and then for himself. The aroma rising up from the dish was pungent and savoury – and somehow familiar. "Martin, this looks amazing, but it also looks like something I've had before."

"It should. Acacio gave me the recipe from his very own restaurant."

Pam gasped. "The pepper mill place? You've been back there?

"Only a dozen times."

"But, Martin, I stole something from there and you were with me!"

Martin smiled and shrugged. "Pam, I've probably paid for that pepper grinder 50 times over in tips alone over the years. Sure, they might know, but they're classy enough not to let _me_ know that _they_ know."

Pam wore an expression of bemused doubt. "Anyway," he said, "let's try this little feast we've created. I already know you like it. It's called Briam and it's one of the most popular dishes in authentic Greek restaurants."

Pam took one bite and knew for a fact she was in gastronomic paradise. She gave Martin a dreamy look as she chewed. The Briam, the fresh-baked bread and the full-bodied wine complemented each other to perfection. A bit of sauce dribbled onto Pam's chin. Martin reached over with a napkin and gently dabbed it off.

As they finished, Martin cleared the plates and said, "I hope you've left a little room for that baklava." Pam put her hand on her stomach. "Martin, I'm about ready to explode as it is." He laughed. "Tell you what – I'll bring over one piece and two forks and you can try what you want."

Martin returned with the plate and forks. Pam had never tried baklava before. The multiple layers of phyllo pastry crumbled under her fork, but the stickiness from the honey somehow kept it all together on the way to her mouth. The sweetness and richness of the dessert shocked Pam's taste buds after the spicy main course. It was gummy and syrupy – and downright delectable. She closed her eyes and revelled in the new taste sensation.

"Pamela?" She rolled her tongue over her teeth, trying to suck off every last bit. "Pam?" She opened her eyes. Martin was grinning. "It looked like you were having an orgasm in your mouth!" Pam smirked playfully. "Well, Mr. Campbell, you did once tell me that you wanted to pleasure _all_ of my senses. I think you're one step closer to your goal now." As she stabbed the baklava again and put it into her mouth, chewing slowly, Martin gave her a long, lusty look.

"You know, woman, you really do kill me."

After dessert, Pam helped Martin wash the dishes. He was handing her the last dish to dry. "You have to go, don't you?" Pam rubbed the plate dry and set it on the countertop. "Yes. I do."

Martin dried his hands and scooped her into his arms. "I think I'm going to live for days like these." Martin put his hands on the back of her head and kissed her solidly, moving his fingers through her hair. Pam knew it was time to go, but gave up on any resistance and kissed him feverishly.

Their lips parted and Martin draped his arms loosely around her shoulders. Pam placed her hands on his hips.

"Martin?" She looked into his eyes. "There's something I need to say...something I _want_ to say." Martin nodded. Pam looked at his chest for a moment and then back at his eyes. "I don't want you to think that I didn't hear what you said earlier when we were in bed."

Pam was aware of her heart thumping around in her chest. Martin looked at her quietly, his eyes wide open.

"I know you said it in the throes of passion, but _you did_ say it." Martin pursed his lips and pulled them back in before slowly nodding.

"Martin." Pam brought her right hand up and placed it on his cheek. "I love you too."

Martin closed his eyes tightly for several seconds. When he opened them, they were wet and he blinked rapidly. His mouth was open slightly and he breathed tiny little breaths. He closed his eyes again slowly and pulled Pam toward his body, wrapping his arms around her fully. He turned the side of his face toward hers and Pam felt moisture on her cheek.

"You didn't have to say that," he whispered. "But you have no idea how incredibly happy it makes me that you did." Pam was aware of him wiping his face before he pulled back to look at her. He swallowed hard. "And I don't want you to just hear what I said only in the _throes of passion_ either." He kissed her softly and looked into her eyes.

"I love you, Pamela."

Pam didn't just _hear_ his words. She looked into his eyes and _saw_ love there. He wasn't holding anything back and neither was she. She hoped he could see it in her eyes too. Martin pulled her close again. They stood in the kitchen and held each other, their bodies swaying back and forth ever so slightly.

# chapter twenty-three

The next several weeks passed in a blur of passionate, secret trysts for Pam and Martin. They came up with a variety of inventive excuses for meeting outside the office and on weekends. Pam created a new, but thoroughly imaginary friend named Margaret, who she told Dave she was meeting after work for drinks and lunches on the weekend. He once asked if her new friend would like to come by the house, but Pam told him Margaret had had some bad experiences with men and was still emotionally fragile. Dave told her he admired her ability to support people in need. Pam assuaged her guilt for her trysts with Martin by initiating innumerable carnal encounters with her husband. Dave had never felt so sexually fulfilled in his life.

Several times, Pam used the purple cell phone, hidden in a secret compartment of her purse, to hear Martin's voice. She would say she was going to the supermarket, but in the parking lot she would take out the phone, press 5 and then 0. When she and Martin couldn't be together, the purple phone was their lifeline.

Most of the time they met at his house. Martin had a plan to have sex in every room of his home – preferably several times in every room. In addition to the rooms they had made love in before, they'd christened the third-floor study, the guest room, the upstairs hallway, the front door and several surfaces in the kitchen. One of their favourites was up against the washing machine in the basement – while it was on. Pam told Martin they were running out of places to do it, but he rattled off a list – the foyer, the living room, the small bathroom downstairs and even the deck and backyard. Pam laughed about doing it in the great outdoors. She said it would have to be a sultry, mosquito-free night.

On several occasions, they did what they said they would when setting up ground rules – they didn't have sex. During those get-togethers, the couple watched classic movies in Martin's home theatre room. One of their favourites was _Gone With the Wind_. They loved role playing Scarlett and Rhett. Pam thought Scarlett was a woman far ahead of her time and Martin admired Rhett's ability to bring out the best – and the worst – in the not-so-delicate southern bell.

They also took long walks with Amber, went to the farmers' market, or simply strolled up and down Danforth Avenue, visiting the shops and eating at outdoor patios. Pam wasn't too concerned about seeing anyone she knew. Most of her neighbours worked in Stouffville and Dave's workmates were spread all over the map.

Martin worked hard at Pinches, putting in several extra hours each week to come up with innovative social media marketing ideas and turn them into reports to wow the boss. He sometimes impressed himself with the quality of work he was able to do. The deck behind his house that he had planned to renovate was going to pieces, but the work he was putting in for Pinches was some of his best ever. He credited much of the renewed energy he felt for his work to the fuse of passion between him and Pam.

After having sex on the thick area rug in the living room, Pam was waiting for Martin to come back with some of his homemade iced tea. The curtains were drawn, so Pam got up and walked nude around the living room, looking at photos of Martin's parents on the mantle. She was curious about a striking antique table and noticed it had a small drawer in a recessed area underneath. She pulled the handle and it opened to reveal loose photos of a slender young woman.

Pam picked up a handful of the photos. She had been looking at them for only a few seconds when Martin came into the room, still nude, holding two tall glasses of iced tea. He froze in place, his eyes falling to the photos in Pam's hands.

"This is her, isn't it?"

Martin's jaw was set. "You shouldn't have opened that drawer," he said, quietly but sternly.

Pam looked at Martin, her head cocked to the side. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snooped." She looked at the photos for another moment and then back to him. "But you can't keep her hidden forever, Martin."

She saw the Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat. He walked over to the rug, sat down cross-legged and set the glasses on the floor. Pam grabbed a throw off the sofa, sat down and wrapped it around both of them. Martin dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes.

"It's too painful." His voice was barely audible.

Pam spread the photos out on the rug in front of her. In several pictures, the woman was in ballet costume. In others, she was arm in arm with Martin. In all of them, she was heavenly to behold.

"Martin," Pam whispered. "She's exquisite. She's so petite and her features are so exotic."

Martin nodded and sniffed. Very slowly, he opened his eyes and glanced down at the photos.

"I know I once said that I'm not attracted to women by their looks. That's not exactly true," he said, picking up one of the photos. "The first time I saw SuLyn, I was astounded by her beauty. Mom and Dad had taken me to the ballet. There was this dancer and I couldn't keep my eyes off her."

He picked up another photo. "They had tickets to go backstage after the show. I saw her up close. If I wasn't in love that instant, I soon was." He sighed and put the photo back on the rug.

"SuLyn was mixed race." He smiled. "She actually used to call herself a "mutt" sometimes. To me, she was the embodiment of pure beauty." Martin pulled in his legs and hugged his knees. "Her grandfather was black and her grandmother was Chinese. That was back in the day when mixed-race marriages were pretty much taboo. SuLyn's mother has strong Chinese features and her dad is Caucasian with reddish-blond hair. That could have resulted in a pretty ugly kid, I guess. SuLyn got lucky and was blessed with the best features of all her ancestors."

They looked at the photos for another few minutes. "Martin," said Pam, "how about you put some of these photos on your mantle, next to your parents." Martin shook his head quickly. "No. I told you. It's too painful." Pam wrapped her arm around him under the blanket. "Well then, how about just one. Just this one," she said, picking up a photo. It can lay flat on the mantle and maybe you can look at it from time to time."

Martin took a sip of his iced tea. He looked toward the kitchen. "You do it," he said in a small voice. Pam got up and set the photo flat on the mantle. She gathered up the rest and put them back in the drawer where she had found them, before joining Martin under the throw.

"Small steps, Martin. We all have to take tiny little steps."

Martin turned his head away from her. A muscle twitched on his face where his jawbones met. It was a long time before he took a sip of his iced tea.

Everything was going fine on the home front until one fateful Tuesday in mid-July. School had let out for the season a few weeks earlier. Samantha was thrilled to be finished with high school. She was working two jobs to save money for university and hardly ever home. She was looking forward to August, when she'd be able to spend a preview weekend at Western, staying at the residence and touring the campus.

Dylan, on the other hand, was bored. He had no job and his constant companion Scott had gone away with his parents for the entire summer. He'd been playing Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare non-stop...that was...when he wasn't glued to the computer watching You Tube...or sneaking onto porn sites when his parents were out of the house.

Pam was the first one home from work that Tuesday. The house was utterly silent. She assumed no one was home and started preparations for dinner. She was enjoying the peacefulness when she heard a loud crash overhead. It was followed by more silence. She turned off the stovetop element where she had started boiling water for pasta and walked upstairs. A small thumping sound was coming from Dylan's room and she walked to his door, knocking.

"Dylan?" There was no answer, but the thumping continued. "Dylan, are you alright?" She waited a few seconds and turned the doorknob. The door opened, but only slightly. Something lay in its path. Pam looked through the slightly open door and saw devastation in his room like she never had before. This was more than teenage slothdom – this was a train wreck.

Pam put her shoulder into the door and pushed as hard as she could. Whatever was on the other side shifted enough for her to open the door and to squeeze inside. She stood still and her eyes scanned the room – what was left of it. A dresser was toppled over and five drawers were scattered around the room. The drawers were devoid of clothes, which dotted the landscape of the carpet. The closet door hung off at an angle and the clothes inside were strewn below it. Empty hangers hung broken and twisted from the rod.

A large desk was overturned and had crushed the bottom half of the dresser. Stereo equipment, books and CDs were everywhere. All the posters were ripped off the walls and lay in shreds on the floor. The bedroom window had a baseball-sized impact crater in the middle and long cracks spread out like spider webs. Large shards of a ceramic lamp splayed out across the carpet under the window. The box spring for the bed was shoved up against a wall and the corner of it was imbedded into the drywall by several inches.

In the middle of everything was Dylan.

The boy lay crosswise on a mattress wearing only a pair of Spiderman jockey shorts that were far too small for him. His head was flopped back over the end of the mattress and he was banging it slowly and rhythmically on the floor. His eyes were rolled back and he was staring vacantly into space.

Pam tiptoed through the minefield that was her son's bedroom. She made her way to the mattress and slowly sat down. She didn't touch Dylan or speak to him. Pam reached across a Rock Band guitar and grabbed a pillow lying on top of it. While Dylan's head was up, she slipped the pillow under it. He didn't seem to notice the difference when his head struck the soft pillow instead of the carpet.

Pam slumped over and crossed her arms across the top of her legs. She laid the side of her head on her forearms and watched her son's head repeatedly hitting the pillow. Several minutes later, she heard the door downstairs open and close and someone walking around. "Pam?" Dave called. "Where are you, Pam?"

Pam didn't answer. A few minutes later, she heard footfalls coming up the stairs. They stopped in front of Dylan's door. Her head still in her lap, Pam glanced over at her husband.

"What the holy Christ went on here?" he shouted. "Dylan! Dylan, answer me! What the hell did you do?"

Dylan kept banging his head on the pillow. Pam glared wordlessly at her husband. They locked eyes. Pam stood up and made her way over to the door. Her face was inches from Dave's.

"You still think this is just teenage snotty behaviour?" She paused. "I think it's time to take off those rose-coloured glasses, Dave."

Pam shoved by him. She went to the washroom, grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold water. She filled a cup with cold water. Pam walked back to Dylan's room, nudged passed Dave and sat beside her son again. She set the cloth on his forehead and her hand beneath his head. It slowed his head's movement, but didn't stop it. She drizzled a little cold water from the cup onto the top of his head. She put down the cup and stroked her hand through his wet hair. She repeated the action three more times. Each time, his head slowed a little more. Eventually, Dylan looked at her.

"I lost my rank," he whispered. Pam stroked her son's head and nodded. "I lost my rank," he repeated. I have no idea what he's talking about...but at least he's talking.

Dylan pulled himself fully onto the bed, his head now resting on the mattress. He started babbling incoherently.

"Level 55...blue tiger camouflage...golden AK-47...top 1,000 highest kill ratio." Dylan closed his eyes and opened them again. "System glitched...epic fail...it's all lost...28 hours...it's all lost." Dylan rolled toward his mother and wrapped his arms around her hips, sobbing. "It's over...it's all lost...there's no point...it's all lost."

Pam heard Dave huff loudly from the doorway. "All this from a fucking video game! That thing's going out in the trash this very minute," he said, disappearing from the doorway.

Pam felt the blood rise in her face. She leaned over and kissed Dylan's temple. "Honey, I'll be right back. Don't you move. I promise. I'll be right back."

Pam stood up and walked swiftly out of the bedroom. She flew downstairs and found Dave in the rec room with an armful of video game equipment. His back was to her.

"You put that down!" she bellowed. Dave jumped and turned around. His wife's face was purple. "Put it all down! It's not yours. Don't touch it," she screamed. Dave cowered and set the equipment on the sofa.

"This has nothing to do with video games," Pam screeched. "This has to do with our son having major mental health issues."

"Now, Pam, Dylan is..."

Pam cut him off. "Dylan is ill," she yelled. Dave gave her a strange look. Pam made a loud, exasperated noise. "This is it, Dave. This is the last straw. I'm having that boy looked at whether you want it or not. That room of his is not just an act of rebelliousness or defiance. It's a cry for help. It is a very, very loud cry for help. If you're not willing to get him that help, I am."

Pam turned and left, climbing up the stairs. Dave watched her go, stood for a moment and then slumped into the sofa. He brought his hands to his face. A moment later, he was weeping.

Pam entered Dylan's room quietly. She moved several items aside and made a clear path to his bed. She sat down. Dylan was curled up on his side, tears streaming down his face. Pam stroked his hair.

"Dylan," she said, her voice breaking. "Dylan, I'm going to take you out of here. I want you to stand up, Dylan. I want you to close your eyes and stand up and let me take you out of here." Sobs hitched in Dylan's throat, but he did what his mother asked. He closed his eyes, and stood up on the mattress, wearing only his little-boy underwear. Pam wrapped her arm around his waist and Dylan held her tightly.

"Step down, Dylan." Dylan stepped off the mattress. Pam guided him along the clear path she had created on the floor and out of his room. She led him down the hallway to a tiny room which was supposed to be for guests, but was used mostly to store boxes of books and off-season clothing.

"Open your eyes, Dylan." The boy opened his eyes and looked at his mother. He had stopped crying. "It's all lost," he whispered. "I'll never get any of it back...it's all gone."

Pam nodded. "I know. I know, Dylan." She helped her son into the small bed and covered him with a thick duvet. "I know it's lost. I'm going to try to help you find it again. Just not tonight, okay. I want you to get some rest. I want you to sleep. I'll bring some of your clothes in here. This is a nice, cozy room. You can sleep in here for a few nights, okay?"

Dylan nodded and rolled over, pulling the duvet up to his chin. "Night, Mom," he said. "Night, Dylan." Pam stood up and left the room.

Pam went to her bedroom, grabbed her purse and headed outside. She got into her car, sat for a minute and breathed deeply. She reached into the secret compartment in her purse, pulled out the purple cell phone, brought up a finger and punched in their secret 5-0 code.

"Hi, baby," Martin answered. "I didn't expect to hear from you tonight. Didn't you get enough last night?" he chuckled.

Pam cleared her throat, but it sounded very high-pitched.

"Pamela. Something's up. What is it?"

"Yes, Martin, something's up. I'm upset and I need to talk to you. I can't leave here, so I'm sitting in my car in front of the house." She swallowed. "It's Dylan. He's had a bad episode...but this is the worst one I've ever seen."

Pam had talked to Martin about Dylan several times. Martin was always sympathetic and supportive. He had told her that his father battled a mental illness that almost resulted in him losing his real estate business. The only thing that had saved Martin's father from the loss of his business and family was a respected psychiatrist who prescribed therapy and the proper medication.

Pam told Martin everything that had happened, from the time she went into the house until the time she stepped outside and into her car to call him.

"Oh, Pam, I wish I could be there for you," he said. "I wish I could hold you in my arms right now. I know how difficult Dylan can be, but every time you talk about him, I hear love in your voice. You love that child as much as life itself, don't you?"

Pam sniffled. Tears flowed down her cheeks. "Of course I do, Martin. The fact that he's such a difficult child probably has something to do with how very much I do love him. My greatest wish in the world is that he be happy," she sobbed.

Martin let her cry for a moment before speaking again. "So, you really want him to get some professional help?"

"Yes," she said softly. "And I think I saw a flicker in Dave's eye tonight that told me he might finally be accepting it too."

Pam continued to talk to Martin for another 15 minutes. She told him she probably wouldn't be in to work tomorrow. The sound of his voice had a calming effect and her distress level eventually diffused. She had no idea she was being watched.

Dave stood at the corner of the window in the living room, looking at his wife in the car. She was talking on a cell phone. For some reason, it looked purple. That was strange, because Pam's phone was green. He figured it must have been some trick of the light. Dave had come upstairs minutes after their argument, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Pam had been talking on that phone for a half hour, but he finally saw her close it, get out of the car and walk toward the house.

Dave sat in the living room and waited for her to come in. The front door opened and closed. A moment later, she stood in the archway of the living room.

"I saw you in the car," he said. "You were talking to someone?"

Pam glared at him. "A friend."

"Margaret?"

Pam shook her head. "No. Not Margaret."

"Hannah?"

"Not Hannah either." Pam paused. "I was talking to a friend who understands me...someone who's supportive of me...someone who's empathetic and kind." She crossed her arms. "Someone you don't know."

Dave took his eyes off his wife and stared out the front window at his wife's car. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly.

"This friend?" he said. "It this friend a woman? He hesitated for a moment. "Or a man?"

Dave slowly looked back at her. Pam remained expressionless. "Dave, you know what? That's really none of your business."

Dave turned his gaze back to the window. He shook his head very slowly. "Well, that says a lot. That says one hell of a lot, Pam."

He sighed deeply and lowered the tone of his voice.

"You think Dylan needs help?" he said.

Pam uncrossed her arms. "Yes. I'm certain of it."

"Okay," he said quietly. "You do what you have to do. See whoever you want to see. I won't give you any trouble about it."

Pam left the room. That night, Pam and Dave ate dinner separately from leftovers in the fridge. They slept in the same bed but didn't say goodnight. When Pam woke in the morning, Dave had already left.

Pam sent an e-mail to work and said she was sick, but might be back in tomorrow. Dylan trudged downstairs at 10 a.m. and saw his mother sitting in her robe at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. Pam looked up at her son. He looked freshly showered and was wearing the clothes she left for him in the guest room the night before.

"Mom," he said. "Mom, I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened yesterday." Pam smiled and motioned for him to sit at the table, which he did. She got up and poured him a glass of orange juice before sitting down again.

"Everything was going okay. I was playing Modern Warfare. Something went wrong with the game. That's happened before and I've been able to retrieve it. This time I couldn't." He sipped the juice. "It was like springs came flying out of my head. I felt like my skin was falling off. I went to my room and I just went nuts. I wanted to destroy everything I saw. I couldn't stop myself."

"Mom," he squawked. "I feel so ashamed."

Pam wrapped her arms around him. "Dylan, I don't want you to feel ashamed of anything." She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Some people's brains just work differently than others. You're a very intelligent young man. I do think, however, that you may need some help that I alone can't give you."

"Help? You mean...like a doctor?"

"Uh-huh. A doctor. A doctor who understands how brains work. If you want, I can find someone like that and we can go together and get you whatever help you need. It might take me some time, but I'll find the right person."

Dylan nodded. "I've always known I'm different, Mom. It's no big surprise to me. If there's anyone who can help me to feel normal, then that's what I want."

Pam hugged him again. "Okay. Let's start with some breakfast." Dylan nodded calmly. They ate breakfast together and spent much of the day watching Dylan's favourite movies in the rec room.

#  chapter twenty-four

Dylan seemed fairly stable on Thursday morning, so Pam went to work. When she stepped off the elevator, Beverly asked her if she was feeling okay. Pam said it had just been a "24-hour bug" and that she was back to normal. "Thanks for keeping those germs at home," Beverly chuckled as Pam headed to her office.

Pam sat at her desk and started plowing through the e-mails from the day before. There were many, but most of them were superficial. It looked like the work day was going to be dull, but Pam decided a dull day was probably what she needed.

A pop-up appeared on her screen.

"How is Dylan?"

"Dylan seems stable enough. At least, stable enough for me to leave him home for the day. He's agreed to see a doctor, if I can find someone suitable."

"Can I come over and see you? I have something I need to tell you."

"Yes. It's a good time. I'm not too busy right now."

The pop-up disappeared. Pam soon heard footsteps in the hallway and Martin entered her office moments later. He closed the door and the blinds. He pulled a chair over to hers, sat down and wrapped his arms around her. She draped her arms loosely around his back and sunk into him. They didn't speak for many minutes.

Martin kissed her cheek and sat back in his chair. "How are you doing, Pamela?" She shrugged. "I've been better. But then again, I'm better than I was 36 hours ago. Things have evened out for the moment."

Martin nodded. "That's good. I've done something that I hope will even them out even more."

"What's that?"

"I made a doctor's appointment for Dylan – for tomorrow afternoon."

Pam's eyes narrowed. "You did what?"

"I called Dad's shrink. I told you how much he helped my father. What I've never talked about is how much he helped _me_ out during my nervous breakdown. He's a really good psychiatrist and it usually takes months to get an appointment with him, but I called him personally yesterday and told him everything. He said he had a cancellation for Friday and he'd see Dylan right away. Isn't that great?"

Pam sat still as a stone. Her face darkened. Her lips came together tightly and a muscle in the front of her neck quivered.

"You...did...what?"

Martin furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the left. He pursed his lips and looked at Pam, who glared at him fiercely. "I...uhhh...I made an appointment for Dylan with a very good doctor. I thought that's what you wanted, Pamela."

Pam opened her mouth and let out a long, shaky breath. "I can't believe it. I can't believe how you wouldn't realize how very _wrong_ that is. You had absolutely no right to do that."

Martin looked away and then back at her. Confusion and hurt filled his face. "Pamela, I did this for you. You needed help and I found you a solution."

Pamela's eyes flew wide. "A _solution_ ," she shouted. " _You_ found _me_ a _solution!_ " She shook her head and when she spoke again, her voice was even louder. "Who are _you_ to find solutions for _my_ family? I thought that was one of our ground rules – you don't interfere with _my_ family."

Martin's mouth hung open. He stared at Pam, feeling the heat rise in his face. He closed his mouth and his jaw clenched until his teeth squeaked. He breathed hard through his nose.

"That isn't exactly what we agreed to," he said slowly. "You never said that I couldn't help you with your family when you needed help. I believe the exact words were that I couldn't expect you to 'disregard the needs of your children.' It's written on a piece of paper at home if you want to see it." He paused. "That's hardly the same as what you just said."

The room became quiet. Pam and Martin sat and stared at each other for a minute.

Martin exhaled wearily. "Do you want me to call and cancel the appointment or what?"

Pam twisted her hands together in her lap and stared at her desk. It was at least a minute before she spoke.

"No," she said, her voice quiet again. "No, I don't want you to cancel the appointment. But I don't want to talk to you any more about this either. Just write down the doctor's name and address and the time of the appointment and give it to me. Then get out of my office. I don't even want to look at you right now."

Martin took a piece of paper out of his pocket that already had all the pertinent details. He slapped it down on Pam's desk, rose from the chair and left without saying a word.

That night after dinner, Pam asked the family to stay at the table for a few minutes. She announced that she had made a special doctor's appointment for Dylan and needed everyone's co-operation.

"The appointment is at 4 p.m. tomorrow, so Samantha, I need you to drive Dylan to my office before you go to work. Dylan, I need you to wear something clean and neat. Dave, we'll probably be home a little late, so I'll need you to prepare dinner." She looked at the faces around the table – they were mostly blank. "Can everyone do that for me?"

Dylan and Samantha nodded. She turned to Dave. "Yeah, sure hon. I'll do anything I can to help out."

"Fine then," said Pam. "We have a plan."

The kids left the table. "Uhhh...Pam, would you like some tea?" Dave asked.

"Tea? We haven't had tea in a long time. Sure. That sounds great."

Pam sat while Dave prepared the tea. He brought it to the table with a couple of mugs and they sat, waiting for it to steep. "Pam?" he said. "I'm sorry I've been such a stubborn ass. Some things are just hard for me to accept. I don't like the thought of anything being wrong with the kids."

She set an elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand. "It's hard for me too, Dave."

He poured the tea into the mugs. "I guess sometimes, it's really tough for me to take off the rose-coloured glasses. Sometimes I think they're crazy-glued to my face," he smiled. Pam looked at him across the table and eventually smiled back. "Drink your tea, Dave."

Pam and Martin hadn't spoken after he left her office on Thursday and they avoided each other on Friday. Mid-afternoon, they passed each other in the hallway without saying a word. As Pam walked by him in the direction of her office, Martin stopped dead in his tracks and stayed put. He turned around and walked to her doorway.

"Can I come in for a minute?" Pam was standing near her desk. She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes. "Yes."

Martin came in and closed the door behind him, leaning back onto it. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know it at the time, but I've thought about it, and I realize now that I crossed a line. Pamela, I'm so sorry."

Pam closed her eyes even tighter before opening them and looking at him. She'd never seen anyone looking so remorseful. _Dammit, Martin, this makes it really hard to stay angry with you._

"You're right. You did cross a line," she said. "I know _why_ you did it, but I _don't_ want you to cross it again."

Martin looked at her hopefully. "Again? You mean there might be a chance for an _again_...for you and me, I mean? I haven't fucked everything up forever?"

Pam turned her palms upward toward him. "Let's just say I'm optimistic."

Martin breathed a huge sigh of relief and approached her, taking her hands in his. They stood facing each other, bodies apart, but hands entwined at their sides.

"Maybe being in love makes you do stupid things," said Martin. Pam smiled. "I'm absolutely certain it does."

Dylan stepped off the elevator at Pinches Public Relations and approached a lady at the reception desk. "Hi. My name's Dylan Williams and I'm here to see my mom."

"Dylan?" the lady cooed. "Oh, my goodness, look at how much you've grown. Why you used to be just a little guy. You haven't been here in years," said Beverly. Dylan tried to hide a grimace. _Look how you've grown! What am I, six years old? What a weird old bat!_

"Do you remember where your mother's office is, dearie?" Dylan swallowed his inner scowl and nodded. "Well, you just go right on down the hall. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you. My, what a handsome young man you've turned out to be!" Dylan avoided looking at her again and headed down the hall.

He didn't remember exactly which office was his mother's, so he looked through the open doors and windows. He walked by six or seven offices with people sitting at their desks. One office with a door closed had a guy standing in it. Dylan walked all the way to the end and didn't see his mother, so he started walking back the other way. He thought he heard his mother's voice and glanced at the window with the guy standing up.

The guy was real tall and his back was turned toward Dylan. He couldn't figure out any words, but was sure he heard his mother's voice. He leaned in close to the window. The dude's arms were at his sides, but he had someone else's hands in his. _He's squeezing some chick's hands!_

The guy shifted a bit to the left and Dylan jumped involuntarily. _It's Mom! He's holding hands with Mom!_ Dylan watched as his mother let go of the guy's hands, pulled him into a tight hug and rested her head on his shoulder. His hands moved up and down on his mom's hips. One of the cocksucker's hands slid around and groped her ass. "Holy shit!" he whispered. Dylan backed up into the hallway. Snakes slithered through his stomach.

Thirty hideous seconds later, the door to his mother's office opened. The son of a bitch stepped out and looked straight at Dylan.

"Hi," he said sharply. "You must be Dylan...ummm...I mean...you must be Mrs. William's son. She's been expecting you, I think."

Dylan saw his mother standing in the doorway of her office, just behind the tall guy. The dude reached out his hand with a shit-eating grin. "I'm Martin." Dylan stared at the hand for several seconds and the guy dropped it back to his side. Dylan looked up into his eyes – they were really dark. The guy looked at his mom and then back to Dylan. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I guess I'd better let you two get off to wherever you're going, then." He turned to Dylan's mother again. "We'll discuss the marketing plan more on Monday, Mrs. Williams." She nodded and the bastard took off down the hallway. Dylan watched until he went into an office past the elevator.

"Dylan?" said Pam. "You're early. That's good, though. That means we won't be late," she said quickly. "Just let me get my things and we'll go."

Pam and Dylan were a few minutes early for the appointment, but that was just as well, because Pam had to fill out reams of 'new patient' paperwork. Before she was finished, the doctor came out into the waiting room. He extended his hand to both of them. "Hello, I'm Dr. Noel Fleischman. It's a pleasure to meet you." They both shook his hand.

"I'm happy you could see us on such short notice, Dr. Fleischman. I understand it usually takes months to get an appointment."

The doctor smiled warmly. "Yes, well, the Campbell family and I go way back, so when your associate called, I was more than happy to fit Dylan into my schedule right away." Pam winced at the mention of the name Campbell, but realized Dylan would have no idea who that was. "I see you're filling out the paperwork, Mrs. Williams. That's wonderful. It will give Dylan and I a chance to chat."

Pam frowned. "You mean you don't want me to come in too?" The doctor smiled and shook his head. "Mrs. Williams, I will want to speak to the two of you together in a little while, but Dylan is the patient and I prefer to speak to the patient first. Besides, once he turns 18, it will be his choice as to whether he wants you involved in his care."

Pam's jaw dropped. "But he'll be 18 this fall." Dr. Fleischman nodded. "They do grow up quickly, don't they?" He turned to Dylan. "Come into my office, young man, and let's have a chat."

Dylan disappeared into the office with the doctor and Pam was left alone in the waiting room with the paperwork. _I'm not sure I like this_. Forty-five minutes later, the door opened and the doctor invited her in. The space looked more like a living room than a doctor's office. She sat in a plush leather chair similar to the one Dylan was sitting in and the doctor sat in a large upholstered armchair.

"Mrs. Williams, Dylan and I have been talking. He's told me about his mood swings and his episode earlier this week. As you know, teenagers have a notorious reputation for being moody, but what Dylan has described sounds like more than simply teenage hormones."

"Even upon our first meeting, I can tell that Dylan is an articulate, intelligent young man. But, as I've discussed with Dylan, he may have a complex condition that causes him to have both intensely overexcited states and depressive episodes. You may have heard of bipolar disorder. I cannot say with any great certainty upon our first meeting that Dylan is bipolar, but everything he has told me leads me to investigate in that direction."

The doctor was quiet for a moment. Dylan turned to Pam. "Mom, I was so scared. I thought I was nuts, but the doctor told me I'm not. He said there might be some sort of chemical unbalance or something in my brain. He thinks maybe I could get better. Mom, can we come back here again, please?"

Pam felt moisture building in her eyes. She willed the tears not to spill down her face. "Yes, Dylan; we can come back." She looked at the doctor. "I'd like to see Dylan again next week and we can discuss treatment options," he said. "Actually, Dylan and I could set up a schedule of visits at that time, if it suits you, Mrs. Williams."

Pam was beaming. "Yes. Yes, that would be wonderful. I want Dylan to have the best treatment possible."

"Very good," he said. "I've given Dylan a 'homework' package that should help me get to know him better – a few surveys, a journaling exercise and an article I wrote about meditative relaxation techniques. I find such techniques work well for many of my patients with mood disorders. It's something he can try, starting today."

Pam and Dylan left the office. The whole way home, Dylan poured through the homework package Dr. Fleischman had given him.

That night at dinner, Dylan spoke enthusiastically about his meeting with Dr. Fleischman. He said the homework package looked great and he planned to start on it right after supper. His mood was infectious – everyone seemed happy.

An hour later, Dave passed by Dylan's room and saw him scribbling notes in the package. "Right into it already, are you Dylan?" Dylan looked up and saw his dad smiling. "Yeah. It's way better than the useless homework they give you in high school. This stuff actually _makes sense_." Dave laughed.

Dylan looked at his father with a serious face. "Dad...there's something I want to ask you."

"Sure. You know you can ask me anything. Shoot."

"Umm...you work in an office, right? Like...in an office with men and women?"

"Yeah. Probably about 30 of them."

"Well...when men and women work in an office environment, do they...uhhh...do they ever hold hands or hug or anything? I mean, are they sort of all touchy-feely and affectionate and all that crap? Is that just sort of normal stuff that goes on in an office?"

Dave laughed heartily. "Well, son, not in the office I work in. We have a 'hands-off' policy in the insurance office. Unless it's a Christmas party or something, no one really hugs. Why do you ask, Dylan?"

Dylan shook his head, as if clearing it of thoughts. He glanced at his homework package and then stared at his father carefully.

"Ummm...no real reason. Thanks, Dad." Dylan quickly looked back down at his homework.

Dave observed his son for a minute before walking away. He stopped in the hallway and looked back toward Dylan's room. That night, Dave had trouble sleeping.

# chapter twenty-five

After her shower Saturday morning, Pam took a peek into her purse, pulling out the purple cell phone. There was one text message – it said CMRANE. She and Martin had worked out a number of codes for texting over the past several weeks and committed them to memory. It was a failsafe, in case Dave or anyone else with a healthy dose of curiosity found their secret phones. This particular message meant 'Call Me Right Away No Emergency.'

The ringer on Pam's purple phone was permanently turned off. It meant she didn't know when Martin was calling or texting, so she checked it at least three times a day when they were apart.

Pam had a quick breakfast and told Dave she was going out to the grocery store. He asked her to pick up some dill pickle potato chips and dip. It was a warm summer day and Pam drove to the park before going to the store. She sat on a bench, pulled out the phone and punched in a 5 and a 0.

"Hello, sweet lips," Martin answered. "I've been waiting forever for you to call."

"Martin, how do always answer on the first ring? Do you have that phone in your hand all the time?"

"Actually, my love, I keep it in my left shirt pocket, right over my heart."

Pam snorted. "Martin, it's the weekend. I know that you only wear T-shirts on the weekend and I've never seen you wear one with a pocket on the front."

"Got me. My bad. Actually, I keep it in the back pocket of my jeans. It's like having your hand on my ass all weekend long."

Pam snorted again. "How _very_ romantic."

"I like to think so." Martin made an extended kissing noise.

"I've been dying to know," he said. "How'd things go with Dr. F. yesterday?"

"Dr. F? Martin, 'F' must stand for 'Fantastic.' He was great with Dylan – and Dylan just loved him. He's going back next week and the doctor wants to set up regular visits and a treatment plan."

"That's great, Pam!"

"Hey, don't get too excited. I'm still mad at you, you know. I don't at all like the way you went about arranging everything. You should have talked to me first."

"I know," Martin replied sheepishly. "And believe me, I'll do anything I have to, to get you back in my good books again – ummm – I hear make-up sex can be pretty good." Pam tried her best, but couldn't help laughing.

"Martin, seriously; maybe we should take a breather this week. I want to keep a close eye on Dylan and next week is when I go on that holiday with Hannah. It wouldn't kill us to keep our hands off each other for a couple of weeks, would it?"

Martin whimpered loudly. "Maybe it wouldn't kill us, but it could cause some major emotional damage. I could end up with a tattered, broken soul, badly in need of repair."

"Broken? Huh...maybe we could play mechanic and mechanic's apprentice when I come back from my holiday with Hannah."

"Mmmm...I like the sound of that. By the way, what do you gals plan on doing on Manitoulin Island?"

"I really have no idea," Pam replied. "Hannah insists on bringing one of her dogs – Shahana. We'll probably go on lots of hikes, drink lots of wine and talk a lot – about boys!"

"Sounds marvy," he said. "Actually, I went there with my parents several times when I was a kid. It's an awesome place. Most people just see Highway 6 while travelling through, which is about as exciting as a brick wall. But I remember all kinds of incredible landscapes in the centre of the island and at the far west end. Make sure you take in some of that."

"We will. I've looked on Google Earth and seen a lot of neat stuff."

"Google Earth? Ms. Williams, you are becoming a techno girl!"

"I guess I can blame you for that. Some of those reports you've drawn up for Mr. Pinches are amazing, Martin. I've learned more about the Web world and social media than I ever thought possible."

"Stop," he said. "You're getting me hard."

Pam laughed. "Anyway, Martin, thanks for Dr. Fleischman. I think he's going to be a godsend. I didn't mean to blow up at you like that – but then again, I'm not promising I'll never do it again – it's the Irish in me."

"But Williams is a Scottish name, just like mine."

"Hmmm...thanks, Mr. Technicality. You once told me I looked like a pretty tough broad and you wouldn't want to piss me off. You're on thin ice already, mister."

"Pamela?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Goodbye, Martin." Pam heard chuckling on the end of the phone as she hung up.

The week before Pam's holiday passed quickly. Dylan had done his homework for Dr. Fleischman and was eager for his appointment on Thursday. Samantha took him directly to the appointment so she would know where it was, as Pam wouldn't be able to take him the next week when she was on Manitoulin. Dylan seemed happier than ever that night. The doctor wanted Dylan involved in his own treatment and had given him information about several mood-stabilizing medications for him to research online in the coming week. Pam was happy to see her son involved in his own self-care. Even Dave seemed to be sold on the idea.

Dave and Pam appeared to be on stable ground and ramping up their sex life again. Dave wondered if their heated arguments had re-lit the flame.

Pam and Martin took a couple of lunchtime strolls during the week, but other than handholding and a few hugs, they avoided getting physically intimate. Pam was still trying to work out her feelings about his interference in her family life.

On Friday, Martin came to her office and wished her a safe and happy holiday. He kissed her briefly on the lips. Pam felt a spark flash through her body, but didn't react outwardly. There would be plenty of time for exploring those feelings after her vacation.

Saturday morning dawned bright and beautiful. Pam was so excited about the trip, she was up with the birds. It was a four-hour drive, but she didn't need to be at the ferry dock in Tobermory until mid-afternoon. She'd checked the contents of her bags about a dozen times, but kept looking to see if there was anything else she'd need. Hannah said all she'd need would be a bottle of sunscreen and a swimsuit – and the swimsuit was only if she didn't want to go skinny dipping!

Regardless, Pam had packed two suitcases and several boxes of food. She knew there were several supermarkets on the island, but wanted to make sure she had her favourite foods, plus a few specialty items she knew Hannah would enjoy. She'd even packed a few doggie treats for Shahana.

Last summer, she and Hannah had spent a week on Pelee Island. It was quaint and tiny, but there wasn't much to do. The week seemed to stretch into infinity. Manitoulin advertised itself to tourists as "the world's largest freshwater island" and Pam already had a long list of activities in mind. Of course, she also wanted plenty of time for relaxation, sitting around the campfire and reading a few books.

Pam loaded the last of her items into the car and went back inside to say goodbye to Dave and the kids. She felt elated to be going on her trip, but hugging everyone was a poignant moment, especially with Dylan in such an unresolved state. There was no phone at the cottage, and cell phone reception was unreliable, so she promised to call from a land line in town every couple of days and at least leave a message for everyone.

"Have fun, hon," Dave said, waving to her from the front door as she backed out of the driveway. He chuckled loudly and added, "What happens in Manitoulin stays in Manitoulin."

Pam met Hannah at the Chi-Cheemaun Ferry dock well before its departure. It gave them well over an hour to wander through the tourist traps. Hannah took Shahana for a brief walk so she could relieve herself. She found a funky little shop and bought Raj a cap that said "World's Sexiest Engineer." They ate a late lunch at a restaurant which was famous for the best fish and chips north of Toronto. They weren't joking – the local fare was delectable.

The women drove their cars onto the ferry. Hannah screamed, mostly in delight, when the hydraulic lift raised her car to the top level and stopped with a tremendous jolt. There was a 'dogs-allowed' area on the ferry, but she kissed Shahana on the nose and told her it was probably better for her to nap in the car for a while.

The ferry had several indoor areas, but the women spent the journey on the outdoor decks, admiring the scenery and letting the wind blow back their hair.

Hannah followed Pam's car when they disembarked. Pam had planned a route to the grocery store in Mindemoya and they got there just before closing. The friends ripped the grocery list in half and raced through the store picking up fresh items they'd need for breakfast and lunch the next day.

They pulled into the cottage resort at about 6:30 p.m. Hannah had been there with Raj a couple of years back and went into the office to say hello to the owners and pick up the key. She waved to Pam when she came back out and they drove for a few minutes down a narrow road. The resort was on a 100-acre peninsula, with a couple of dozen cottages spread out along the western shore. Every one of the units had its own rocky beach and a high degree of privacy. They ranged from rustic one-bedroom cabins to large, modern chalets for multi-family use. Hannah had chosen a three-bedroom cottage which was semi-rustic, but had nice beds and modern conveniences.

They pulled into the parking space and started unloading stuff into the cottage. Pam thought it had a bit of a musty smell, but the furnishings were attractive and the setting was amazing. It looked out onto a long bay on one side and a wide channel toward the mainland in the other direction.

As Hannah put away the groceries, Pam carried her suitcase into a bedroom. "Mind if I take this one?" she called out. Hannah was putting eggs into the fridge. She froze as she heard the sound of a suitcase being unzipped. She walked to the bedroom door. Pam looked up and thought Hannah had an odd look on her face. "Oh, sorry Hannah, did you want this room?"

Hannah shook her head. "No. You take any room you want. I just thought it might be a good idea to take a little walk before we get too settled in. It's been a really long trip. Let's grab a bag of chips and a couple of cans of that spiked Blackthorn cider and take a walk down the road. I could really appreciate stretching my legs – I'm sure Shahana could too."

Pam thought Hannah seemed uncharacteristically stressed – but she was right – it had been a long journey. Hannah must have left pretty early in the morning to get to the ferry dock on time – and knowing Hannah's usual level of hyperness – she had probably hardly slept at all the night before.

"Sure, Hannah," said Pam. "That sounds like a great idea."

The women took the chips and cider and walked down the road. Shahana was thrilled to be free from the car. Hannah didn't see anyone around, so she let the dog off the leash. After all, they were on a peninsula – how far could she really go?

The friends walked and talked, eating chips and drinking their ciders. Pam thought Hannah was pretty quiet, but didn't mind a break from her friend's usual non-stop chatter. They passed about eight cottages, which got bigger and more elaborate the farther they went. They'd been walking for at least 15 minutes and Pam was starting to feel a buzz from the tall can of Blackthorn.

"Raj and I took lots of walks here a couple of year ago," said Hannah. The other side of the peninsula is just scrubland, but there are several paths that lead through the bush. On the other side, you could walk around nude all day and not a soul would see you." She giggled. "Well, except maybe for Russian spy satellites or someone with a really good telescope on the International Space Station."

Pam laughed. "I wouldn't doubt it. I bet those space station guys get pretty horny up there." The women collapsed into each other in laughter as they walked along the narrowing gravel road.

Hannah looked ahead. "That's the last cottage up there. It's one of the nicest on the whole resort."

The women kept walking. Shahana was well ahead of them and started barking. Another dog barked back at her. As they reached the end of the gravel road, Pam turned and looked at the impressive two-storey cottage. She stopped still on the road. Beside the cottage was a dark blue Audi.

Pam slowly turned to her friend. "You told him that you and I were coming here for a get-away," Hannah said sheepishly. Pam stared at her. "He called me a few weeks ago. I didn't know what to say." Hannah shrugged. "He came to see me in London. He told me how much he loved you. Pam...what he said crept straight into my heart. You know how much of a sucker I am for love, sweetie."

The cottage had side steps leading up to a second-storey deck. Shahana charged up them. She was whining and wagging her tail in front of a beautiful Golden Retriever behind a gate.

Pam turned her head quickly away from Hannah and walked to the outdoor staircase, her friend close behind her. She climbed to the top of the steps and peered over the gate to her left. Martin sat in a Muskoka chair, barefoot, in shorts and a pale pink T-shirt. Neither spoke for a moment, but as usual, Martin uttered the first words.

"Welcome to Manitoulin Island."

Pam opened the gate at the top of the stairs. The dogs twirled around and greeted each other in typical doggie fashion. Pam and Martin regarded each other as Hannah closed the latch of the gate behind her, securely encasing both humans and canines on the upper deck.

Pam felt a hand on her shoulder but didn't turn around. "Don't hate me, Pam. Please don't hate me." Pam sighed deeply but still didn't turn around. "I don't hate you, Hannah." She sighed again, still looking at Martin. "Sometimes I'm truly pissed with you. Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you. Sometimes I want to wring your neck until it snaps off. But...I could never actually hate you." Her speech skipped a beat. "I love you."

The hand on her shoulder tightened and she heard a mewl behind her as it was withdrawn.

"C'mon girls," said Hannah. "Let's go inside and see if we can find some Milk-Bones."

Hannah walked past her friend to the deck door and the dogs followed her inside. Pam remained standing for a minute and then walked across the deck. She sat in the Muskoka chair beside Martin and kicked off her sandals. She looked around the bay.

"You have a better view than us," said Pam. "With the elevation, you can see three peninsulas in the distance."

Martin nodded. "Earlier today, when the sun was higher, I could see even farther than that."

Pam gazed out at the bay. It was still as water on a plate. "When did you get here?"

"I drove to Tobermory after work last night and stayed in a hotel. It looked out on the harbour. I saw the Chi-Cheemaun coming in near midnight. It was pretty, like a big Christmas tree approaching silently over the dark water, with the full moon hanging in the sky. I hopped on the early morning ferry, stopped at the grocery store in Mindemoya for a few supplies and I was here at 10 a.m."

"So...you've had more than eight hours to process this...and I've had less than one."

Pam wrinkled her brow. "Actually, you've had a lot longer than that. Hannah said you've been planning this for weeks."

Martin had a beer at his side. He picked it up and took the last swig from the can. "A while ago, Pam, I told you there was no end to how devious I could be. At the time, I honestly never imagined I'd use that deviousness on you."

Pam looked at him briefly and returned her gaze to the impressive view across the water. "Can you get me one of those beers, please?"

"Uhhhh...yeah...sure." He grabbed his empty can, stood up and walked past her into the cottage. He headed to the kitchen downstairs. Hannah was playing with the dogs. She looked up at him.

"How's it going?" she asked. Martin reached into the fridge and pulled out three cans of beer. He handed one to Hannah.

"I have no idea. I don't know if she's going to kill me or rip my clothes off." He cracked open a beer and took a drink. "The way she's acting right now is so bizarre, I almost hope she's going to kill me."

Hannah took a swig of the beer and shrugged. "You never can tell with Pam. She's one cool cucumber. I've known her since high school, but sometimes I wonder if I _really_ know her."

Hannah took another sip from the can. "Martin, I seriously hope you know what you're doing." He smiled and clinked cans with her. "Hannah, I seriously doubt I do."

Martin went upstairs and returned to the deck, handing Pam a beer. She took it, but hardly seemed to register his presence as she looked out at the water. They sat and drank their frosty beverages for several minutes.

"Martin?"

"Hmmm...?"

"Let's go inside and fuck each other's brains out."

Martin was midway through a swig of beer. He spewed it half way across the deck. He coughed once and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"Okay."

Martin stood up. He extended his hand and helped Pam out of the Muskoka chair. He led her through the deck doors to the upstairs bedroom.

"Let's play follow the _team leader_ ," said Pam. "Lay down on the bed."

Martin lay down and Pam sat beside him. Martin closed his eyes and crossed his arms. Pam undid the button and zipper of his shorts. He wasn't wearing underwear. As she yanked the shorts down and pulled them off, Martin uncrossed his arms and let them flop out to the sides, palms upturned.

Martin assumed a position of complete surrender as Pam leaned over and started sucking the loose skin of his sac between her lips. She nibbled and sucked all the surfaces of his scrotum, pulling on it and letting the elasticity of the skin slowly snap back. Martin kept his eyes closed and didn't move, even though he longed to grab the back of her head and pull her mouth closer to where he ached to be sucked.

Pam teased her tongue around his inner thighs and worked her way up to the base of his cock. She moved her lips ever so slightly around the bottom of his shaft and his whole body shuddered involuntarily. Martin's right arm bent at the elbow and he lifted his hand, extending his fingers, but he immediately dropped his arm back onto the bed with a groan.

Pam laid her head on his thigh and wrapped her fingers around the top of his cock, squeezing and releasing it several times. Martin felt his breathing increase and tried to slow it down. Pam let go of him and shifted on the bed, lying immobile. Martin thought she might get up and leave.

He let out a long "ahhhhh..." as he felt a merciful mouth enveloping him. He kept his arms outstretched for as long as he could while she stroked her mouth up and down. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming need to touch her.

Pam was wearing loose shorts with a dainty elastic waistband. Martin dragged his right hand across the bedspread and found the waist of her shorts. His hand slipped easily inside and he reached down, feeling warmth and dampness. He rested his thumb on her pubic bone and wiggled his fingers rapidly over her fleshy mound. Pam stopped sucking for a moment, but kept him inside her mouth, moaning appreciatively.

The sound of her moan sent shivers through Martin's chest. He opened his eyes, took his right hand out of her shorts, wrapped it into the curve of her waist and moved his left hand behind her neck. Martin pulled and she came forward willingly. He brushed the hair back off her face and they kissed deeply.

Their lips still locked in a passionate kiss, Pam reached down to stroke him at the same time his hand came up to fondle her breast. Pam was wearing a tank top with a soft, built-in bra. Martin was able to slip his hand inside the fabric and fill his hand with her ample breast. He squeezed gently and moved his hand round and round as she continued to stroke him.

Something in Martin's brain snapped at the myriad sensations. He quickly lifted himself and Pam took in a sharp intake of breath as he flipped her onto her back. He peeled off her shorts and underwear, running his hands up and down the soft skin on the outsides of her thighs. She squeaked as he shoved his hands under her butt and lifted her slightly, yanking her farther down the bed.

"It's been too long," he growled. He pushed her legs open and lowered his mouth. Martin kissed her dead centre and continued kissing all over her vulva, inner thighs and belly. Pam squealed and whimpered alternately, depending upon where he kissed.

Martin dragged his tongue over her moist flesh. "Mmmmm...you're delicious." He tasted all her surfaces, licking and sucking with great delight. Pam's head moved from side to side on the pillow, enchanted by the sensations he was creating for her. She pulled her tank top up to her neck and massaged her breasts, pinching her nipples hard and rolling them between her fingers.

Martin explored inside her with his tongue and sucked on her velvety lips. Pam began to pant. She took her hands off her breasts and ran them through his hair. "Oh, Martin, I've missed having you between my legs so much. A week without you is a week too long."

Martin smiled and continued his plunder. He inserted two fingers inside her and concentrated on circling his tongue where he knew she wanted it to be. "I love the way you taste," he muttered. He picked up the pace, flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly across her upper surfaces.

Pam dug her hands into the back of Martin's underarms and pulled. "Come up here," she said huskily. Martin lifted his eyes and saw longing in Pam's face. He quickly crawled up her body and locked his mouth onto hers. Pam tasted herself and liquid fire pulsed through her lower half. She broke the kiss and looked into his eyes.

"I want you to fuck me until my ears bleed."

Martin blinked hard and gave his head a quick shake.

"Okay. I can do that."

Pam whipped off her tank top and Martin pulled off his shirt. He got up onto his knees and set her right leg on his left shoulder. He grabbed his cock – even touching it made him think he might blow, so he handled himself gently as he pushed into her. Both of them cried out as he drove himself into her heat.

Martin fondled her left breast and massaged the inside of her right thigh as he began to thrust. He moaned loudly and constantly. He eventually moved her leg off his shoulder and bent forward to kiss her. They groaned into each other's mouths as they rocked their bodies together in unison. Pam placed her hands on the sides of his cheeks. They felt stubbly and she dragged her fingers across them. Martin pulled away from her lips and they gazed into each other's eyes. Each could see pure love there. Martin's chin quivered. He stopped thrusting for a moment and they kissed tenderly.

When they came up for air, Martin pulled out and crawled behind her. He thrust into her from behind and Pam immediately shot her hand down to rub hard between her legs. Martin wrapped both arms around her tightly, grasping her breasts firmly. His flat belly made loud slapping noises on her ass as he drove into her.

Pam was rubbing her clit rapidly when Martin suddenly pulled out again. He shoved her over onto her belly and slid his muscular arm under her, pulling her up onto all fours. He kissed down her back and stopped at her ass, kissing firmly all over her buttocks. He spread her cheeks. Pam gasped sharply as he flicked his tongue up and down on her anus. She looked back over her shoulder and panted as he buried his face into her ass, kissing, sucking and licking the highly-charged nerve endings.

"OOOooooo...Martin...the things you do to me! I feel like I'm going to explode."

Martin lifted his face and gave her one of those smiles that just about killed her.

"That's kind of the point."

Pam glared at him. "Fuck me, Martin. Fuck me harder than you ever have before."

Martin lifted his eyebrows. "That's a tall order!" Pam narrowed her eyes. A smile played at the edges of her mouth. Martin looked down at her full, round hips and squeezed her butt cheeks.

"With pleasure," he whispered, mostly to himself.

He took his cock into his hand again and eased into her. Pam immediately felt him hit that wonderful spot on the front wall of her vagina. It was a sensation that only a woman could truly understand and appreciate.

Martin grabbed her left hip with one hand and reached around with his other to play with her clit. Pam cried out at his touch. He thrust into her brutally and she grunted. She made a high-pitched howling noise in between the grunts. Martin felt her gripping him and knew she was close. His upper body was much longer than hers. He draped himself across her back and kissed her cheek. She turned her head and he locked onto her mouth, mimicking the actions of his cock with his tongue. It was enough to send her over the edge. She literally screamed into his mouth as she came.

Pam's vagina gripped Martin so hard that it actually hurt him, but it created a heightened level of sensation. He completely lost control. Martin groaned in both pain and pleasure as the orgasm overtook him by surprise. The hand on her pussy spasmed and squeezed without him realizing it, adding pain to the pleasure Pam was experiencing. Both of them were shaking and quaking as their bodies took over.

Martin's hand soon gave up its death grip and his senses returned to him. His chest and her back were glued together with sweat. It stung his nipples when he ripped himself away. He pushed himself up onto his knees and rested the palms of his hands on her lower back, his breathing still labored.

He slipped out of her and collapsed onto his side. Pam turned over and flopped onto her back. They lay silently for several minutes, their racing heats attempting to slow. Eventually, Martin moved closer to Pam and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Dammit!"

Pam rolled her eyes toward him. "What?" Martin touched her ear, wiggled it back and forth and inspected it closely. "Shit! There's no blood here...no ear bleeding!"

Pam looked at him quizzically and then erupted into a fit of laughter. Martin nipped at her ear. "I guess I'll have to try harder next time."

# CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Hannah heard intimate noises coming from upstairs not long after Martin handed her a beer and left her in the kitchen. She looked up at the ceiling, beaming. She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote, _"I have the dogs – H."_ She left it on the kitchen table.

"Let's go, girls." Hannah walked the dogs back to the cottage she had rented.

Pam showed up at the women's cottage two hours later. It was empty, so she followed a path down to the water and found Hannah sitting in a chair with a glass of wine, the dogs at her feet. The table beside her was brimming with snacks – an assortment of crackers, cheese, Polish sausage, paté and Hannah's ever-present hummus dip.

"Hi sweetie," said Hannah. "I thought you might show up, so I brought an extra glass." She filled it with wine and handed it to her friend. "Set a spell, girl," she smiled. Pam sat and gazed at the water. The sun had set, but the sky was still a dusky blue and the moonlight glinted off the bay.

"You pissed at me – or you want to rip my head off?" Hannah asked.

Pam looked at her friend. "None of the above." She took a sip of the wine. "What happens now, Hannah? I came here to be with you. Martin is a major wrinkle in our 'girls' week.' I'm not sure what to do. I'm confused and happy and bewildered."

"And very nicely shagged, I hope," Hannah added. The two women laughed.

"Look, Pam, I _did_ conspire with Martin to make this happen. He came to my house looking like a lovesick puppy. He was so adorable. I couldn't let this opportunity pass you by. If you'd taken one look at that Audi, stormed back here and demanded to go home, I wouldn't have been surprised. But...that was a chance I was willing to take."

"If I was you, Pam, I'd sit here for a while, drink some wine, load up on snacks and then go back down the road and spend the night with that sweet man of yours. How often are you going to get the chance to spend so much time with him?"

"But what about you? I want to spend time with you this week too," said Pam.

"Martin and I talked about that at length. He didn't want to be possessive in any way. We thought we could all do stuff together during the days and then, if you want, the nights can be just for you and him. I'll take care of the doggies most of the time. That's why I brought Shahana, so that Amber would have someone to play with. Martin couldn't leave her in a kennel – he loves this dog almost as much as he loves you. I love you too – but I'm more than happy to share you."

"Hannah?"

"Uh-huh?"

"You are truly the most wonderful woman I have ever met."

Hannah laughed. "You obviously have never tasted my meatloaf."

An hour and a half – and a bottle and a half of wine later – Pam and Hannah headed up to the cottage with the dogs. Pam stuffed a bag with clothes. Hannah wrapped her arms around her friend. They were both a bit wobbly on their feet.

"Take this," said Hannah, handing her a flashlight. "You'll need it on the road to his cottage." Hannah tittered drunkenly. "And maybe you and Martin can play 'find the salami' with it under the bedspread."

Pam wrapped her hand around the back of Hannah's neck, pulled her forward and kissed her full on the lips for several seconds. "That's for setting me up," she giggled, and left for Martin's cottage.

Over the next several days, Pam, Martin and Hannah took numerous small day trips around the island. Martin felt like he was revisiting his childhood. They travelled to sandy beaches, rocky wind-torn outcroppings and pretty villages that overlooked scenic landscapes. They ate fresh-caught fish in local restaurants and picnicked at the edges of both Georgian Bay and Lake Huron.

Their days were spent mostly as a trio, but Pam and Martin did sneak off through the woods a couple of times to the deserted side of the peninsula, where they swam nude and made love in the shade of a cedar grove. Pam and Martin's nights were full of passion. Some nights, they had sex for hours in every position they could think of. Others, they held each other tight, kissed softly and stroked each other's bodies gently.

Pam had read about the many hiking trails on Manitoulin and the three of them went on every one they could find. They took the dogs with them on most of the adventures. Amber and Shahana were having a great time romping around with each other and Hannah loved taking care of them. Pam and Martin took Amber on several evening walks before taking her back to Hannah's cottage for the night. Pam was surprised at how she had begun to feel such a deep affection for the dog.

The biggest and most arduous of Manitoulin's hiking paths was the infamous Cup and Saucer Trail. Midway through the week, they gave it a try. Martin climbed with ease, but the women found the trek up to the top of the 230-foot-tall escarpment to be a grind. Regardless, their breath – the little they had remaining – was taken away by the view when they finally reached the top of the cliffs. They could see the entire east end of the island and all the way across the channel to the white hills of Killarney.

It was hot that day and they had left the dogs in Hannah's cottage. Pam and Martin dropped Hannah off at the resort so she could take Shahana and Amber for a cool swim in the bay. Pam had read about a natural attraction called Murphy's Hill, which had a great view of the North Channel, so Pam and Martin decided to go off on one more adventure. They found the road easily. It was steep and narrow. Pam was happy Martin was such a good driver.

They parked the car and got out for a look.

"Martin, this is breathtaking! I can see all the way across to the La Cloche Mountains."

The couple leaned on a rustic fence made of cedar logs and admired the view. Moments later, a small herd of fat, cream-coloured cattle trotted over to them. Pam picked a handful of grass and held it up. She was astounded when they all nudged toward her and ate the grass from her hand. She giggled loudly.

"Martin! Oh, my! I've never fed a cow before."

He pulled his head back and lifted his brows. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. I was raised in a city. I've never even been this close to a cow before in my life. Oh, Martin, look at those big, brown eyes and soft ears. Aren't they pretty?"

Martin smiled at her childlike enthusiasm. Pam petted one of the cows it pushed its head forward into her hand. The beasts were obviously very used to tourists – and the treats they offered – everything from apples to chocolate bars.

"Martin...this one is so friendly. I just want to jump on her back and hug her tight."

Martin laughed – and was suddenly silent. "That would be stupid."

Pam nodded. "Yeah...I guess it would be."

He looked at her sideways and said slowly, "That would be _completely_ stupid. I can't think of anything much more _stupid_ than sitting on a cow."

Pam frowned at him, confused. Her eyes flew wide open and she quickly shook her head from side to side. "Oh, no! No way! I know I wrote, 'do something completely stupid' on my list, but I didn't say anything about getting killed by a cow."

Martin scratched the cow on the head and laughed. "You think this thing is going to kill you? It can't even kill the flies buzzing around its head."

"But Martin, a person can't just sit on a cow!" She looked at the animal. "What if it throws me off like they do in the rodeo?"

Martin snorted. "You have no idea how they make cattle do that."

"And you do?"

"Actually, a lot of people think they torture them, but it's nothing too sinister. Those bucking broncos you seen at rodeos are bred from animals that have an affinity for doing that. They actually like the bucking and are generally easy to handle when they're not performing."

Pam stared at him for several seconds. "Martin, is there anything you _don't_ know about?"

Martin laughed and continued to scratch the cow's head. "I like animals is all. I like to read about them." Pam eyed him suspiciously. "My mom's parents had a small hobby farm when I was a boy," he continued. "A couple of times when I was a kid, I sat on the backs of the animals. With cows, as long as you go real slow, they don't usually give you much trouble. They're not too bright, you know."

"When you were a kid? I suppose you were all of 70 or 80 pounds. Look at me, Martin. I'm double that."

Martin eyed her suggestively. "Mmmm...and every pound is prime 'Grade A' delectable."

Pam frowned at him playfully.

"Get up on the fence," he said. Get up slow."

"Martin, you're nuts!"

"Maybe. Get up on the fence anyway."

"If I get eaten by a cow, you have explain it to Hannah," she said, resigning herself to an act of pure stupidity. She climbed to the top of the fence and swung her legs over, perched on top of the cedar rail. The cows crowded in close to her and momentarily pinned her legs to the fence.

"How do I do this?"

"Slowly. _Very, very_ slowly," Martin suggested. He scratched one animal behind the ear. "Try this one. She's so close, she's practically lying on top of _you_. Place your hands firmly on the sides of her neck and lean forward onto her a bit at a time. No sudden moves. Cows hate sudden moves."

The cow's back was slightly higher than the top rail. Pam leaned over slowly, touched her chest to the animal's upper back and leaned her weight onto it. Martin continued to scratch behind the cow's ear and fed it some grass. The animal didn't seem to notice what was happening to her. Pam wrapped her arms around the animal's shoulders and stroked it gently. Extremely slowly, Pam moved her leg across its back end. Moments later, she was face down on the cow's back.

Pam stared at Martin with an astonished expression. Martin looked back at her. "Shhhh," he said. "Don't say anything. You don't want to spook her." Pam gently ran her hands across the cow's warm coat.

This is stupid. This takes the cake. This is the far and away the stupidest thing I have ever done. Oh crap...how do I get off?

Pam shot Martin an alarmed look and he read her mind. "I guess you have to fall off." He shrugged and tried not to laugh.

Oh, great!

Pam looked down. It was only a four-foot drop, but it would be a drop onto hard, cow-stomped earth into the middle of a small herd. She slowly pulled one leg over – and fell off – landing flat on her fleshy ass. The cattle all mooed and jumped at once. The cow she had been on turned its head and glanced at her in terror, as if she had never seen this strange human before.

One of animals kicked its back leg out and Pam shrieked, rolling away in a panic. Within seconds, the entire herd bolted across the field. Pam climbed back over the fence quicker than she ever imagined possible for a woman of her age and limited athletic ability.

Martin laughed hysterically. "I can't believe it! I can't believe you actually did that," he chortled. "That should go straight into the Guinness Book of Stupid Deeds!"

Pam slapped his ass – hard. "Owww," he cried. "Now you know how my butt cheeks feel." He grinned and spun her around quickly, massaging her ass. "I've known how they feel for some time, Ms. Williams. They feel luscious." Martin drew her in close to him. Hardness pressed against Pam's belly. He gave her a quick kiss and they headed back to the cottage for more late-afternoon adventures.

They walked into Martin's cottage less than a half-hour later. Martin kissed her the instant they were through the front door. Pam backed away. "Martin, I'm so sweaty." He ignored her and leaned in for more. She backed up. "Martin, will you light a fire, please?"

"A fire? It's hot as hell in here...and you just said you were sweaty." Pam twirled a finger around his belly button through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I know. But a fire would make me feel...well...so much more _romantic_."

Martin flew over to the fireplace and threw in some newspapers and wood. Pam reclined on an oval braided rug behind him. He had a fire going in no time and turned to her. "Feeling more romantic now?"

"Much."

"Good," he said, laying down and attacking her lips. He began to strip her quickly. He pulled off her shorts and gazed at her underwear. "Wow. These are nice. These are _really_ nice," he said, stroking his fingertips over the red fabric. "Is this real silk?"

Pam nodded. "They were expensive." Martin inspected them closer and grinned. "How expensive?"

"Very expensive. _Extremely_ expensive."

"And you wore them hiking, and sat on a cow in them, and fell in the dirt, and got all sweaty in them?"

"Uh-huh. I guess they'll never be so nice ever again. I guess I've ruined them."

Martin stared at the silk panties. "I guess you'll have to throw them away, then."

Pam twirled her finger in the chest hair just below the hollow of his neck. In her best Scarlett O'Hara voice, she said, "Well, kind sir, perhaps you could do me the honour of removing them and disposing of them for me." Martin ran his fingers under the waistband. "Anything for a lady," he responded.

Pam lifted her bottom and Martin slowly rolled the silk undies down her legs. As he removed them, he brought them up, pressed them to his nose and in a theatrical gesture worthy of Pam's favourite scoundrel, Rhett Butler, breathed in deeply. "Heavenly," he said, before ceremoniously tossing the red, silky garment into the fireplace. They watched it burn until it was nothing but a smoky ember.

"Now sir," Pam continued in her Scarlett voice, "you may fuck me – hard."

And he did.

Afterward, they lay drenched on the braided rug. The fireplace had heated the cottage to the temperature of a sauna. "That's two more," said Pam, panting.

"Go get the list," Martin huffed.

Pam stood up and felt like she might faint from the heat. She retrieved her purse off the table and returned to the rug, flopping down flat. She took out a pen and the list, unfolding it onto the rug.

"Martin, hold the pen with me." Martin wrapped his hand around hers while she struck two items off. They lie sweating, and read the updated list.

15 Things to Do Before I am 50

- Drink a $100 bottle of wine (maybe by myself-or maybe with a friend)

- Smoke pot (definitely with a friend)

- Read a 500-page book in one sitting

- Meet Mulder

- Jump out of a perfectly good airplane

- Say no when you feel obligated to say yes

- Have phone sex

- Steal something – something fun

- Get a classy tattoo in a private place

- Have the house to myself for an entire weekend

- Do something completely stupid

- Buy a pair of expensive silk undies, wear them once

and throw them away

- Play hooky from work (and do something fun)

- Figure out what I want to be when I grow up

- Eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz dark chocolate ice-cream

"Do you know what you're going to do with this list when you have everything crossed off?" asked Martin.

Pam lay on her stomach, up on her elbows, and held the list in her hands. "I have no idea. I haven't even thought about it."

On Friday, the trio headed to Little Current, the largest town on the island, to browse the shops and maybe buy a few souvenirs. They saw a lot of kitschy items, which they all agreed were humorously distasteful, but none of them saw anything they wanted to take home.

Walking farther along the main drag, Hannah's eye caught something interesting and she ran ahead of Pam and Martin. When they caught up to her, Hannah grinned at them and said, "Pam – this is it! Let's all do it! Let's all get one!"

Pam looked at the sign overhead – _Persephone's Tattoo Emporium_.

"No, Hannah," she said firmly. "This isn't something you do on the spur of the moment."

Hannah planted her hands firmly on her hips and made a _tsk_ noise. "Get real, Pam. This is _exactly_ the type of thing you do on the spur of the moment. Let's go inside."

Pam looked at Martin, who shrugged and said, "It can't hurt to just go inside and look." Pam opened the door and turned back to him. "Actually, I bet it can _hurt_ quite a bit."

The shop was clean and neat. Signs on the wall said the artists used "only new, sterilized equipment for each customer." Pam had researched tattooing online and the place seemed to meet all the safety standards she had read about. She walked around for 10 minutes, examining hundreds of samples posted on walls and display units. She didn't see much of anything that attracted her.

She was about to tell Martin and Hannah that she would like to leave when she came across a small display that captured her attention. The sample board featured a variety of tattoos that looked like intricately looping knots. They struck a chord deep within her and she made eye contact with one of the artists. He approached and asked, "Did you want to know about these?" Pam nodded. "Yes, please. They're very beautiful. What are they?" Martin and Hannah noticed Pam talking to the artist and came over to listen.

"These are Celtic love knots," he said. "They date back to about the third century of the Roman Empire. Most people think of them as symbolizing eternity, love and passion. They also symbolize the never-ending cycle of life, as they have no end or beginning." He pointed to the left side of the sample board. "This one over here, the eternity knot, represents the union of two souls by interweaving two individual strands. The beauty of these tattoos is they can be very simple to begin with, but if you wish, you can add more and more intricacy to them later on."

Hannah tugged at Pam's sleeve enthusiastically. "What do you think?" Pam stared at the sample board for another minute, nodded and said quietly, "I think I'm going to get a tattoo." Hannah jumped up and down and clapped her hands.

Three hours later, the trio emerged from the tattoo emporium. They were all wincing and walking slowly. "The things we do for love," Martin whimpered, holding his hand over his left shoulder. Pam and Hannah giggled and looked at each other mischievously. Martin was in between them. They stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and both women kissed him hard on the cheeks.

"Men are such wussy wieners when it comes to pain," Hannah teased.

The next morning, the three of them packed up their cars and made the trek to South Baymouth to catch the southbound ferry. They ate lunch in a small restaurant overlooking Georgian Bay. Hannah was sad to be leaving but was overjoyed to be taking another ride on the Chi-Cheemaun. "It's so big and powerful and being on top of all that water makes me feel really plugged into Mother Earth," she enthused. Hannah squealed with delight once again when her car was hydraulically lifted inside the ferry and the metal ramp jarred it in place.

Once they got moving, Hannah headed straight for the bow of the ship. It was windy and she longed to lean forward and stretch out her arms, like Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet in _Titanic_. The tip of the bow was off-limits to passengers, but Hannah got as far forward as she could to the front of the ship and leaned into the wind, her long blond hair swirling around her like gossamer sheets. Martin and Pam took up a spot on the side railing and watched. "My friend Hannah," Pam chuckled. "I've never met anyone so full of life and love and joy." Martin wrapped his arm around Pam and kissed her on the cheek. "I have. I have someone like that right here beside me."

Pam closed her eyes and leaned into his body, pressing her nose into his shirt and breathing in the scent of him.

"Martin, I'm going to miss this. I'm going to miss being able to touch you and hold you and be with you whenever I want. This past week has given me moments beyond my wildest dreams."

Martin squeezed her tight and swallowed hard. "I've been thinking about that," he said. Martin gazed out at the water as he spoke. "This week, I've loved making love to you anytime we wanted. I've loved sharing meals and a bed with you. I've loved sitting in the same room with you and doing absolutely nothing." He looked at Pam again. Martin turned her toward him and held her by the shoulders.

"I want _more_ , Pamela. I know I can't have it all, but I want _more_."

Pam saw the love in his eyes and felt a familiar lump in her throat. "But how? How can we have _more_ , Martin?"

"Promise me something," he said. "Promise me that at least once every year, we can do this. I want one week every year when we can be together 24/7. I don't care where or when or how. If I can have that to look forward to, I'll be over the moon with happiness all year long."

Pam looked out at the water. Sparkles danced on the waves in the ship's wide wake. The water and the movement of the ship made her feel lightheaded. Martin placed his hand gently on her face and she looked back at him.

"Dave has insurance conventions," she said. "Sometimes they're just for a weekend, but sometimes they're for a week. His company usually sends him on one or two a year." Pam gazed into the eyes of her lover. "Yes. Yes...I promise."

Martin wrapped his arms around her and they stood on the side deck holding each other, buffeted by the wind and swaying gently with the motion of the ship.

"I love you," Martin whispered into Pam's ear. "I love you too," she whispered back.

#  chapter twenty-sEVEN

It was late when Pam got back home. It had been a long, lonely drive. She had become used to having either Martin or Hannah, or both of them, with her over the past week. She usually craved 'alone time,' but she suddenly missed having someone beside her to collapse the void of silence.

Dave greeted her warmly as she walked through the front door. He kissed her firmly. "I missed you, you know," he said. "Let me get your stuff out of the car. You must be beat."

"Thanks, Dave. That's nice of you." As Dave lugged in her suitcases, bags and boxes, Pam headed for the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. "You want anything?" she called out. "Nah," said Dave, carrying the final bag inside. "I just finished a beer and I think I'm about done for the day. I'm heading to bed."

"Okay," she said. "I need to unwind for a bit after that drive. I'll join you in a little while." Dave came into the kitchen and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Sounds good." He stepped back and gazed at his wife. "You looked tanned, Pam. Looks real nice on you. If I'm asleep when you come to bed, you can tell me all about Manitoulin tomorrow, okay?" Pam squeezed his hand and Dave left for bed.

Dave was asleep by the time Pam crawled into bed and he was off to his Sunday morning golf game when she woke up. It seemed strange to wake up alone. Pam took a long, hot shower and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Dylan sat at the table, papers spread out all over it.

"Hi, Mom," he smiled. "Welcome back. Did you like that big island you went to?"

"Yes, Dylan, it was lovely. Hannah and I had a great time. She took some pictures. I'll show them to you when she sends them to me. Have you had breakfast?"

"Uh-huh. Dr. Fleischman told me I should have breakfast with protein and healthy fats in it every day, so I made myself an omelette with goat cheese and olives."

"My, you're becoming quite the gourmet cook, Dylan. I'll have to get you to make me one of those some day."

"You want me to make you one now, Mom?" he asked enthusiastically.

"No, not now, but maybe next weekend," she said pleasantly.

"Oh, you don't know about next weekend, do you?" Pam sat at the table and shook her head. "Oh, Mom, it's so great. Dr. F. found an opening at this great camp for me. It's a summer camp for guys with all sorts of issues – bipolar, ADHD, depression, anxiety – a bunch of stuff. You talk about your problems a bit, but he told me that's not really the focus. It's more about having fun and not having to worry about day-to-day stuff. I leave next Friday morning and it goes for a week. Dad said I could go as long as it's okay with you. Can I, Mom?"

_I haven't seen Dylan smiling this much in ages._ "Yes, Dylan, that sounds wonderful. I'm sure you'll have a great time." Dylan beamed. "Thanks, Mom. I'm really looking forward to it. I've been working hard on my homework. I think I'm starting to understand why I act the way I do. I still can't really control it, but at least I don't think I'm batshit crazy anymore."

Pam smiled and patted Dylan's hand. "Dylan, I couldn't be more proud of you."

Dave and Samantha had news for her later that afternoon too. After telling Dave about her adventures – well, some of them – on Manitoulin Island, he told her about an insurance seminar coming up the next weekend.

"This one's in Ottawa and it's put on by the Insurance Institute of Canada. It's about advanced investigation of slips, trips, falls and personal injury claims. That's not really my area of expertise, but it's something that's growing in the business and I'd like to maybe start branching into it. Isn't that exciting?"

Pam nodded. "Yes, dear, that certainly does sound very exciting." _About as exciting as scraping road kill off a highway_.

"I'll be leaving first thing Friday morning and back late Sunday night."

Samantha walked into the living room. "Hi, Mom. Did you have fun on your holiday?"

"Yes, it was wonderful. How are your jobs going?"

Samantha flopped on the couch next to her dad. "Good – but it's tiring working two jobs. I heard Dad tell you about his seminar. I'm going to be away next weekend too. It's the preview weekend at Western, when I get to stay in the residence and tour the campus. I'm really looking forward to it – and to taking the break from work."

Dave looked at Pam. "Well, hon, with all of us gone, I guess you'll have the house all to yourself next weekend. It's been a while since that's happened." Pam raised her eyebrows. "Dave, I don't know if that has _ever_ happened."

Sunday night, Pam was stripping off her clothes in front of the closet, getting ready for bed. Dave walked in and gave her body a lusty once-over. His eyes stopped just above the crease of her thigh.

"Hey...what happened to you? Why do you have that big bandage? Did you cut yourself?"

Pam looked down at the gauze pad on the front of her hip and back at Dave. "Not exactly," she said. Pam peeled the tape off the top edge and pulled down the gauze. Dave leaned in to look.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a tattoo, dear."

"I know it's a tattoo. Why the hell did you get a tattoo? Did that dippy friend of yours talk you into it?"

Pam sighed. "Well, if you must know, yes. Hannah and I got them together. It's called a Celtic love knot. It represents the union of two souls and symbolizes eternity, love and passion."

Dave grinned. "So, what...did you two turn into lesbians while you were away? Did a bit of muff diving, did you?"

Pam smacked him playfully on his belly. "You wish!" she said. "I'm sure you'd love to hear stories of me getting naked and sweaty with another woman, wouldn't you?"

Dave grinned again and shrugged his shoulders. "Well...I wouldn't mind if you made something up and told me a nice story."

"Let's go to bed, Dave."

They went to bed. Dave avoided her fresh tattoo and took her from behind.

Pinches Public Relations seemed quiet on Monday morning. A lot of the employees were on holiday – even Beverly, who never seemed to be absent from her station at the front of the office. It was odd to step out of the elevator and not be greeted by her.

Pam sat at her desk and turned on her computer. A pop-up immediately flew open in the bottom right corner.

"How's my Manitoulin woman?"

"Tanned, rested, relaxed – and missing her Manitoulin man. How's the shoulder?"

"Ever so pretty. If you like bright, red, inflamed skin that looks like it's been torched by a branding iron."

"Baby! Suck it up! The redness will be gone in a day or two and it will look beautiful."

Pam waited several seconds for a response. "I wish I could press my lips into your love knot this very instant, woman."

Pam squirmed in her chair and squeezed her legs together. She put her hand over the front of her right hip, just above her groin. The tattoo still stung a little.

"You there?"

"Yes. You just threw me a little. The thought of your lips on my _love knot_ is probably something I shouldn't be thinking about at work."

"Getting a little hot over there, is it? Maybe you should turn up the air conditioning."

"Get back to work, you slacker!"

"Ooooo...I do like it when you discipline me! Yes, ma'am."

The pop-up disappeared.

Pam and Martin took a walk every day at lunch that week. Neither one of them wanted to put in any extra work hours to make up for 'mentoring' sessions, so they captured their stolen moments over the noon hour. A couple of times they went into the woods at the park and mauled each other up against a tree, but they never had sex.

Pam told Martin about her upcoming weekend and how she would finally have the house to herself for a whole weekend. "I guess that will be one more to strike off the list. It's a good thing, too. I only have a couple of weeks left until my birthday."

Martin made a sad face. "Does that mean I won't get to make love to you this weekend?" Pam smiled coquettishly. "We'll see."

Late Friday afternoon, Pam was working in her office with the door closed. An envelope shot under her door. She walked over to retrieve it. The front of it was blank. She went back to her desk, opened it up and read the note inside.

" _Manitoulin Woman: Just because you have the house to yourself for the whole weekend doesn't mean that you have to lock yourself up inside like a hermit for the whole weekend, does it? Don't you get to leave for a while and have a little entertainment? And perhaps fulfill a fantasy or two? If you are amenable to a bit of fun and frolic, please visit the address on the back of this note at 8 p.m. on Saturday. P.S – Wear baggy dress pants and a simple blouse. Much love...Your Manitoulin Man."_

Pam turned the note over and read the address on the back. It was for a condo building downtown. She got up, opened her door and walked toward Martin's office. The door was locked and the lights were off. He had left for the weekend.

On Saturday night, Pam stepped off the elevator at the downtown condo building, wearing what Martin requested. She walked down the hall and stopped in front of the door with the number from the back of the note. A small table sat to the right of the door with a shiny red box on top of it. A sheet of paper on top said, in large letters, "Pam – Please open me."

Pam opened the box, startled sharply and jumped back. What was inside looked red and furry. She gathered up her courage and leaned in again. On top was a note that said, "Put me on." Pam tentatively reached inside and picked up the item, staring at it. It was a wig – a cinnamon red wig in a sophisticated straight bob, with side swept bangs.

Pam giggled and put on the wig. The box contained a mirror and she used it to ensure her own dark hair was completely concealed underneath. _Martin, what sort of kinky, diabolical plan do you have cooked up for tonight?_ She rang the doorbell.

"Come in. It's open," she heard a male voice call out. Pam turned the knob and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She looked up and froze.

"Holy crap on a cracker!"

She'd seen it all before, and imagined it a million times, but she'd never actually _been_ there before. The room was lit dimly by a lamp on a desk and the glow of a large aquarium on a metal stand in the far right corner. On the left were two leather chairs with square arms. Between them was a table with a small television on it.

In the centre of the room was a large rectangular coffee table on top of a beige and brown striped area rug. To the right was a wide leather sofa with a cushion on the left end and a Navajo blanket draped over the right.

She looked back toward the desk, which held a computer and very little else. The blinds on the left side of the window were all the way down, but on the right, they were pulled up slightly. The bottom blind was bent at an angle. The only area of exposed window sported large 'X,' created with masking tape.

Pam felt faint. Her jaw dropped to her chin. She was breathing slowly and heavily. She heard a shuffle of feet from the left and looked over.

"Scully?"

"Scully – you look like you've seen a ghost." He stood and stared at her for a moment, looking concerned. "And if you've seen a ghost, I want to know about it, because it's been a long time since I've investigated a ghost sighting."

Still slack jawed, Pam looked at the man who stood in front of her, wearing a black turtleneck, jeans and no socks.

_It's Martin...but it isn't Martin. The nose is too big and the cheekbones are too high. There's a mole low on his right cheek where there's never been one before. And that hair – I've never seen his hair swept up and back like that before. It looks almost spiky_.

"Martin?" she said slowly. "What's going on here?"

The man cocked his head to the side and looked at her strangely. " _Martin?_ What's wrong with you, Scully? Did you bump your head or something? Come on, sit down."

He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the sofa, where they sat. She reached up and touched his face. It felt a bit rubbery. "Is it really you?"

"Scully, I don't know what you're on tonight – but I want some," he grinned.

Pam looked around the room and giggled nervously. "Martin, how on earth did you do all this? It's perfect. It looks just like his apartment." She looked back at him. "And you! You look just like him!"

He put his hand on her forehead. "Scully, do you have a fever or something? You're acting really weird."

Pam burst out into laughter. She collapsed into him and he wrapped his arms around her, tickling her ribs. She laughed even more. He leaned in and began nibbling on her neck. Pam was still giggling, but then started moaning... and then giggling again. She was squirming and twisting in his arms. He reacted by holding her even tighter. She ended up sideways on his lap. He moved his lips down her neck and placed a series of tiny kisses along her collarbone.

Pam wasn't giggling anymore. The only sound coming out of her was a long, constant moan. She wrapped her arms around his neck, which allowed him to move lower, kissing and licking the skin at the top of her blouse. He undid her top two buttons and stopped, looking deeply into her eyes.

"You want this, Scully, don't you? You want more of this?"

Pam opened her eyes. "I can't think of anything I would want more. I must be hallucinating, but I'd want this even if I wasn't."

He took that as permission to crush his lips to hers. Pam reciprocated by opening her mouth and sucking his tongue into her mouth. They kissed passionately as their hands explored each other's body. Pam's hand wandered along his thigh and he pulled back, breaking their kiss.

"You've wanted this for years, haven't you? You've been fantasizing about me at work, at home and during all those long hours when I sat close beside you in the rental car or on an airplane bound for god-knows-where."

Pam gave him a bemused look. "What do you mean? How could I have fantasized about you for years? We just met this spring."

"Don't toy with me, Scully. Do you want this or don't you? Do you want me to make love to you, Scully?"

Pam's heart raced. The room was spinning. Her breath was short and a persistent ache was growing between her legs. She crushed her body into his.

"Of course that's what I want, Martin."

He pulled back and pushed Pam away at the shoulders. Pam looked perplexed.

"Scully, I'll give you whatever you want, but there's just one catch." He slowly shook his head from side to side. "You can't call me by _that_ name."

Pam cocked her head to one side. "You want me to call you Mr. Campbell?"

"No, not that." He drew himself close to her face. "You know what you want to call me. You know the name you want to cry out in a crazy fit of passion."

Pam gasped. He licked his bottom lip seductively and spoke softly. "Say it." Pam was silent. "Say it, Scully. Ask me to make love to you."

Pam knew he was playing with her, but it was a game that was impossible to resist. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes.

"Oh my god, yes. I do want you to make love to me. I've wanted it for years. Will you please make love to me? Will you please make love to me... _Mulder_?"

"All you had to do was ask Scully. I've been waiting for you to ask for years," he said, diving into her mouth again. Their kisses were deep and fervent, leaving them both gasping. He undid the rest of her buttons and tugged off her blouse. "Nice pants," he said, as he undid the side clasp and zipper and pulled them off her legs. Pam lay back on the couch. He was up on his knees, straddling her. She was wearing white cotton underwear and a matching white cotton bra. He smiled.

"Nice. Very nice. Simple and classy." He ran his hands across her breasts, feeling the erect nipples beneath.

He leaned down to kiss her, his left hand buried in her cinnamon red hair and his right hand sliding under her body. He quickly found the back of her bra and opened the clasps one-handed, pulling the bra off as he lifted himself up again. He dipped down to suck on her left nipple. Pam started groaning as he switched back and forth, nibbling and sucking on her breasts. She reached down between his legs and rubbed his hardness through the denims, eliciting moans on his part.

He kissed and licked his way down to her navel and pulled off her underwear. Suddenly he was ogling.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Pam asked self-consciously.

"Wrong? Oh my god, no. Nothing's wrong," he said. "It's your bush. It's your beautiful bush. I'm so happy you leave this fuzzy little tuft on top," he remarked, tickling her pubic hair. "Oh, Scully, I really want to feel this on my face." He looked her directly in the eye. "Ask me. Ask me to do it. You know what to say," he taunted.

Pam gulped. She hesitated, but wanted this badly and knew he wouldn't do it unless she asked the way he wanted – the way she had habitually fantasized.

"Okay. Yes! Please! Bury your face in me, Mulder. Please...go down on me. I want to feel your breath and your lips and your tongue on me. Please...oh please... Mulder!"

He didn't need to be asked again. He lowered himself onto the rug by the couch and pulled one of Pam's legs over his shoulder to open her up more. Her vulva was dark pink and glistening with moisture. He slowly rubbed his entire face over her and placed tiny kisses everywhere his lips touched. His large nose grazed her clit and Pam twitched, a sharp gasp coming from her throat.

Spreading her labia wide, he explored with his tongue, moving swiftly over all the slick, soft surfaces of her tissues. Her hips started gyrating this way and that. He experimented sticking his tongue in and out of her opening. Her hands tangled in his hair and she pushed his head into her mound.

"Oh, this is so good, Mulder. Oh, you have no idea. Please don't stop, Mulder."

He grinned as he continued to attack her womanhood. He flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue and Pam's moan turned into a throaty growl. He continued for a moment, but sensed she was close. He stopped. She whined loudly. He laughed.

"Scully. What do you want? Do you want to cum like this or do you want a piece of me?"

She threw back her head. "Oh, yes. Yes, I want to feel you on top of me and inside me. I want to cum with my arms and legs wrapped around you, Mulder."

"Like I said, Scully, all you had to do was ask." Pam watched intently as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down and using his bare feet to free himself of the denim. He wasn't wearing any underwear. She tried not to stare but was unable to take her eyes off his massive erection. _This might hurt_.

"Are you ready, Scully?" he asked. She bit her lower lip and nodded her head. He lowered himself onto her and began kissing her face. Pam felt his cock pressing against her thigh. She thrust upward, pushing her clit against his belly.

He reached between her legs, gathered her wetness on his fingers and rubbed it over his tip. "Hold your legs together, Scully," he whispered in her ear. She complied. He took his slippery cock in his hand, shoved it between her closed legs, and pushed it up tight against her pussy.

"Squeeze your legs tight, Scully," he panted. He began to move slowly, the entire length of his shaft rubbing against her centre with each thrust. She occasionally felt the head of his penis teasing her opening, but not quite entering.

He met the rhythm of her thrusting hips. He placed small kisses on her neck and nuzzled his nose in her hair. Her head was buzzing and her level of arousal was peaking. She was also aware of his growing hardness and increased respiration.

"Scully," he asked, "how are you doing? Because I'm pretty close. I'm trying to hold on for you, so you have to let me know whether to stop or not."

"No. Please don't stop. I'm so close. But please, I really need you in me. I want to cum with you in me. I want to feel you spurt in me."

He stopped moving entirely. Pam let out a high-pitched whine. He placed a hand on her right cheek and looked her in the eye. "Ask nice," he commanded. "Ask the way I told you."

Pam sucked in her lips. She closed her eyes tight.

"Oh, for crying out loud, fuck me!" she shouted. " _Fuck me, Mulder!_ I want you to fuck me, Mulder! Fuck me so hard I'll never forget it," she cried.

She parted her legs and felt him enter her swiftly and fully. He filled her passage completely and hammered into her relentlessly, slamming into her clit with each thrust. Within moments, Pam saw lights and colours flashing behind her closed eyelids.

"Mulder!" she screamed. "Oh my god, Mulder!" The world exploded as she spasmed over and over, the orgasm causing her entire body to convulse upward. She was aware of him pressing hard into her as the sensations flowed upward and outward from her core. The quivering in her body started to subside, but the aftershocks hit her hard.

She finally opened her eyes. He was perched over her and had obviously been watching her face as she came. His mouth was open and his hot breath came out in short bursts. He reached down and squeezed her breasts firmly. He groaned loudly and his body convulsed sharply as he came inside her.

He slid down onto the edge of the couch and pulled Pam atop him, her back resting against the back of the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her head which came to rest on his chest. They lay in silence for a while as their breathing slowed. Pam stroked his chest languidly.

"So, how was that?" he asked.

Pam began giggling, her whole body jiggling on top of him. "How was that? You just fulfilled a fantasy that's been rocking through my head for almost 20 years and ask 'how was that?' Martin, that was fucking fantastic. That was the most bizarre sexual experience I've ever had, but I loved it."

"Was it _spooky_?" he asked.

She turned her head enough to see his face. " _Spooky_? You've been watching The X-Files, haven't you?"

"Yeah...but I'm only half way through season five," he grinned. "It's a much better show than I thought it was. I think I'm getting addicted."

"Anyway," he said, "do you want move this to my bedroom?"

Pam was silent for a moment.

"Mulder?"

"Yes, Scully."

"I didn't even know you had a bedroom."

Pam stayed at _Mulder's_ apartment that night. She eventually got Martin to come out of character and tell her how he pulled it all off. He owned the condo and had for years. It was where he had lived with SuLyn before she died.

Martin had spent a month watching X-Files episodes to get a feel for Mulder's character and make certain the condo looked just like Mulder's apartment. He also 'knew a guy who knew a guy' who did make-up and latex masks for movies shot in Toronto. Martin had spent most of the day on Saturday getting his face ready for his performance.

On Sunday morning, Pam and Martin lay in bed with her Fifty List on the mattress. "I never thought in a million years that I'd be able to strike this one off the list, but here goes," said Pam. She took the pen and drew a line. They both laughed as they looked at the list.

15 Things to Do Before I am 50

- Drink a $100 bottle of wine (maybe by myself-or maybe with a friend)

- Smoke pot (definitely with a friend)

- Read a 500-page book in one sitting

- Meet Mulder

- Jump out of a perfectly good airplane

- Say no when you feel obligated to say yes

- Have phone sex

- Steal something – something fun

- Get a classy tattoo in a private place

- Have the house to myself for an entire weekend

- Do something completely stupid

- Buy a pair of expensive silk undies, wear them once

and throw them away

- Play hooky from work (and do something fun)

- Figure out what I want to be when I grow up

- Eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz dark chocolate ice-cream

"Pam?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?"

Pam smiled softly and ruffled his spiky hair. "Not, yet, _Mulder_...not yet."

Pam felt on cloud nine at Pinches during the work week. The fantasy Martin had fulfilled left her feeling giddy for days. They used inter-office chat several times for naughty conversations. They escaped from the office twice that week and had lengthy love-making sessions at his house. Pam came home exhausted, but always found enough energy at night to take care of Dave's sexual needs.

She pondered the nature of of sex as she gave Dave a blowjob on Thursday night. _It really is true, what I thought a while back. The more sex you have, the more sex you want._

# chapter twenty-EIGHT

Dylan sprawled across the sofa in the rec room after supper on Saturday, a death grip on the controller in his hands. He had returned from camp that morning.

It was about to happen. Level 35. A few more seconds and he'd unlock an eavesdrop device to listen in on enemy voice chat. Dr. Fleishman and the counsellors at the camp had told him that playing video games was okay – it was a good form of escape and a way to release tensions – but he had to limit himself to a maximum of three hours a day during the summer holidays. Dave thought that was still a lot, but it was nothing compared to the number of hours he had been playing.

He never did recover what he'd lost that day in Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare, but he'd slowly worked his way back up. Dylan leapt out from behind a bush and let the guy have it – a perfect headshot. Blood splattered across a wall and on the ground. "Yes!" he shouted. "Bleed, you bastard!" Dylan was basking in his own glory and watching the new perk reveal itself when the phone rang. It rang again. Dylan hated the sound of ringing phones and pulled his arms tight into his sides. "Mom," he called out, "the phone's ringing." No one answered. Dylan hated answering the phone almost as much as the ringing. After the fifth ring, he picked it up.

"Yeah," he said.

Dylan heard only breathing on the other end of the phone. "Jesus – is this one of those telemarketer assholes?"

He heard someone clear his throat. "Ummm...Dylan?"

Dylan scowled. "Who wants to know?"

The person on the other end sniffed. "Uhhhh...Dylan, you don't know me, but I work with your mom. My name is Martin." It sounded like he had a bad cold.

Dylan hesitated. "I know who you are," he huffed.

There was a brief pause. "Dylan...I really need to talk to your mom right now. Is she home?"

Dylan glowered and threw his controller onto the couch. "Yeah, she's here. I'll go get her." He pressed the 'pause' button on the phone and tossed it onto the coffee table before heading upstairs.

"Mom," he called, "There's someone on the phone for you." A moment later, Pam came inside from the deck. She was wearing gardening gloves. "Were you calling me, Dylan?"

"Uh-huh. That guy you work with called and wants to talk to you. He sounds all weird."

Dylan walked to the front door. "Are you going somewhere?" Dylan nodded. "I'm going to Scott's house. I'll probably stay there tonight. You want me to call?"

"Yes, please," said Pam. Dylan gave a slight wave as he headed out the door.

Pam walked into the living room and sat down, staring at the phone. She took off her gardening gloves, set them on the side table and picked up the receiver. She pressed the 'talk' button.

"Martin?" she said in a low voice. "Why are you calling me at home?"

Martin was breathing heavily. "Martin?" He sniffed before answering her. "I know I'm breaking a rule," he said. "I know I shouldn't be calling you on your home phone." He sniffed again. "But I need you, Pamela."

Pam sensed desperation in his voice. "Martin, what's going on? You sound terrible."

Martin took in a deep breath and let it out shakily. "It's Amber. I'm at the vet's office." Pam heard a couple more breaths before he continued. "She got hit by a car. I brought her here to the emergency clinic and they took her in to operate on her."

"Oh no, Martin!" Pam felt her chest tightening.

"She was bleeding a lot. She might be bleeding inside. Pam, I'm not sure if she's going to make it." Martin's last few words came out in a choked sob. "Pamela, is there any way you can come here? I really need you right now."

Pam's eyes stung and she blinked rapidly. "Yes, Martin...of course I can. Where are you?"

Martin gave her the address of the emergency veterinary clinic and Pam told him she would be there as soon as she could. Martin said a small "thanks" and hung up.

Dave walked into the living room as Pam was setting the phone back on the table. "I heard the phone ring a few minutes ago. Who was it?"

Pam looked up at her husband. "Christ, Pam...what's wrong? You look like you got hit upside the head with a puck."

Pam stared at her hands. "Ummm...that was Hannah. Something's happened. I don't know if she'd want me to tell you about it. She needs a friend right now, Dave. I have to go be with her." She looked up at him. "That's what friends do for each other, right?"

Dave nodded. "For sure. She's your best friend. You go do what you have to do."

"Thanks, Dave." As she stood, Dave wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. "That's a long way to go on a Saturday night. You drive carefully, okay? Call me tomorrow morning and let me know that everything's okay."

"I'll do that," she said, giving him a quick hug before going to the bedroom to get her purse. "You're not going to pack a bag?" he asked when she came out. "I guess I haven't really thought about it, but no, if I need anything, I'll borrow it from Hannah." Dave nodded. "Oh...and one other thing. Samantha is at Christine's overnight and Dylan went out to his friend's Scott's house. He said he'd call later to let us know if he's staying over." She gave Dave a peck on the cheek before heading out the door and getting into her car.

Pam was five minutes down the road when she reached into her purse. She grabbed the purple cell phone and dialed Hannah's number. Pam didn't like talking on the phone while she was driving. It rang only twice before Hannah answered.

"Hannah, it's Pam."

"Pam. What's wrong? Don't tell me nothing's wrong, because I can already hear it in your voice."

Pam swallowed hard. She started rambling. "It's Martin. Well, it's Amber. Amber's been hit by a car. Martin's gone to pieces. She's being operated on. She's probably dying. I had to lie to Dave. I need your help, Hannah."

"Shhhh, girl. Slow down. It sounds like you're the one who's going to pieces. Take a deep breath."

Pam took a breath. "Now...what do you want me to do, Pam?"

Pam sighed. "I told Dave that something was wrong with _you_ , that _yo_ u needed me. He thinks that I'm driving to London to support you through some crisis. I hate to ask this, but I need you to back me up in case he calls."

Hannah didn't skip a beat. "Of course I will, girl. You know I'll always be there for you, no matter what you need. Raj is right behind you too. I'll give him instructions about phone calls." Hannah paused. "Pam, I feel terrible to hear that about Amber. She's such a sweetie – and I know how much she means to Martin. But don't worry about anything on the home front. Just go be with your man."

Pam sniffled. "Hannah, you are the dearest friend I can ever imagine having."

"It's easy to be a friend to you, Pam." She was quiet for a moment. "Let me know how things turn out, okay?"

"Okay, thanks Hannah. I love you."

Pam snapped the phone closed and tossed it into her purse. She was afraid she'd lose it if Hannah said anything else.

Pam pulled into the parking lot of the veterinary office 40 minutes later. Martin was the only person in the outer office. He was hunched over in a chair, his arms folded across his knees and his head down. He didn't hear Pam enter but looked up slowly as she came near. His eyes were red and his cheeks were pink. He rose slowly and wrapped his arms around Pam. Neither spoke. They held each other for several minutes before sitting.

Pam looked at the front of Martin's T-shirt. The entire front of it was soaked in dried blood. Blood covered his hands and forearms. He was wearing shorts and there were even a few blood splatters on his legs.

"We were at the park...the one I took you to near my house," Martin said, staring at his feet. "There was no one around and I let Amber off her leash. We were having a great time. I was throwing a stick for her. She retrieved it a dozen times." He sighed deeply. "At some point, Amber seemed distracted. She took off after a squirrel. I remember laughing. She's always hated squirrels for some reason. I thought she'd stop when the stupid thing went up a tree. It didn't go up a tree. It kept running and so did she. I called her, but she didn't listen."

He turned to Pam with a pained expression. "Pam, she _always_ comes when I call her." He shook his head. "This time, she didn't. She kept running after that damned squirrel. I saw it happening in my mind before it actually happened. There was a car coming. I was screaming at her like a maniac and running as fast as I could. She ran right into the street after that squirrel. The squirrel made it across the street. Amber didn't. The car hit her straight on and she flew through the air like a big doll."

Martin was trembling and Pam placed her hands on his. "By the time I got to her, she was laying on the other side of the street. There was a pool of blood under her. She was quivering all over and whimpering a little, but her eyes were closed. There was this woman. She was wailing. I guess that's the driver who hit her. I didn't even look at her. I picked up Amber and got her in the car and drove straight over here."

Martin's voice became small. "When I brought her in and I looked at the vet's face, I knew it was bad. He took her away and said he'd do what he could."

Martin turned to Pam and wrapped his arms around her. He sobbed uncontrollably. Pam held him in her arms and rocked him gently. She stroked his back and tears spilled down her own face. Martin whispered into her ear. "I know, she's only a dog, but I feel like my heart is being ripped out of me."

Pam pulled back and held him by the shoulders. "Martin, she's not just a dog. She's _your_ dog. She's part of you. It's okay to feel the way you do."

Pam was aware of someone standing nearby. It was the vet. Martin and Pam stood, holding hands. Martin was silent. The vet looked at the two of them and said nothing for a moment.

"Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, I'm very sorry. I did everything possible. There was too much blood loss and too much internal damage. Amber's body gave up, is all. Actually, she was probably unaware of anything after the car struck her. Her brain would have registered very little pain. I'm so sorry," he said quietly, walking away.

Martin's body started to hitch with strangled sobs and he wrapped his arms around Pam once again. Very little noise came from him, but his body jerked involuntarily as she held him. After a few minutes, a veterinary assistant approached them. Pam looked at her but Martin had his face buried in Pam's neck.

"Mrs. Campbell?" Pam nodded. "I know this is very difficult. The doctor has tidied Amber up. Would you and your husband like to see her?" Pam covered her mouth hard with her hand. She wasn't sure what to say. "It sometimes makes things easier later on," the assistant continued. Pam wasn't sure if Martin had heard a word, but she nodded to the assistant.

"Come with me," the assistant said softly. Pam followed her, with Martin coming along like a blind man being guided. They walked into a small room, where the dog was laid out on a metal table. A huge bandage covered her belly. Her fur was wet in several places, but it wasn't bloody. Pam circled her arm on Martin's back.

"Martin?" He still wept quietly into her neck. "Martin, we're with Amber. You can see Amber now." Martin sniffed and lifted his head from Pam's neck. He opened his eyes and looked at the dog. His lips were pressed together tightly and tears streamed down his cheeks. He let go of Pam and placed his hands on the metal table. Martin looked at the dog for at least a minute. The tears stopped rolling down his face.

He tentatively reached out a hand and set it on the back of Amber's neck. She was still quite warm. Martin buried his fingers in her fur and began to stroke her back. Pam watched and an involuntary sob escaped from her throat. While Martin calmed the more he stroked the dog, Pam began to shake and weep. Martin turned to her and took her hand, placing it on Amber's side and moving it along her body. Martin let go of her hand and Pam stroked Amber, wrapping her other arm around Martin's waist. Martin and Pam stood there for several minutes, slowly petting the still dog. It was very quiet. Eventually, both of them stopped crying.

"Amber," Martin whispered. "I love you, Amber. You brought me such happiness and helped me when I needed help the most. I'm going to remember you forever." He removed his hand from her fur and let it drop to his side. Martin stood silently for a moment and looked at his dog for the last time. He turned to Pam.

"Pam, I'm ready to go now." Pam looked at him and nodded. The Golden's collar was on the table near her head. Pam gave Amber's fur one more long stroke, picked up the collar and left the room with Martin.

The veterinary assistant was waiting in the outside office. She spoke to Pam. "Ma'am? I need to ask you something. Would you like your pet cremated?" Pam looked at Martin and he nodded. "Would you like the ashes returned to you?" Martin breathed deeply and said, "No. No I don't want her ashes. I never know what to do with ashes."

Martin approached the reception desk. The woman behind the desk silently handed him a bill. He didn't look at it. Martin took out his debit card and handed it to her. Pam stood beside him as he silently paid for the services. As the receptionist handed him back his card and a receipt, she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Martin shoved the piece of paper into his pocket. He and Pam left the office and stepped outside. The sun had set, but it was not yet dark.

Their cars were parked side by side. Pam glanced into the Audi and saw blood on the steering wheel and on the passenger seat. She quickly looked away.

"Martin," she said, "do you think you're going to be able to drive?" Martin didn't say anything, but he nodded. "Okay. I want you to take it real easy. I'll be right behind you. Pull over if you need to, okay?" Martin nodded again and got into his car. They were at Martin's house in 10 minutes.

Pam had Amber's collar in her hand. She set it on a table inside the front door. Martin tossed his car keys onto the same table. They both took off their shoes. Martin turned to Pam and looked at her blankly. Pam took him by the hand and led him upstairs to the bathroom.

"Martin, take off your clothes and give them to me." He undressed silently, bundled his clothes and handed them to her. Pam went out into the hallway, set the clothes on the floor and came back into the bathroom. Martin stood nude in the middle of the room and stared at her vacantly. Pam went to the shower and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature so it was warm but not hot. She came back and took Martin by the hand again, leading him to the shower and encouraging him to step inside.

He stood stock still, the spray of the water hitting his chest. Pam watched the caked blood dissolve and drip from his hands, which hung loosely at his sides. The blood made a pink pool around his feet as it swirled down the drain.

"Martin?" He turned his head slowly. "I want you to stay in the shower for a few minutes. Don't turn the water on any hotter, okay? I'll be back in a few minutes."

Pam left the bathroom and gathered up the clothes from the hall. She went downstairs and through the door near the back of the kitchen that led to the basement. Pam threw everything into the washing machine, set the washer to cold water, sprinkled in some detergent and turned on the machine.

Pam climbed the old wooden stairs into the kitchen and went back up to the bathroom. Martin was still in the shower, but he had turned around and the water was spraying on his back. Pam smelled shampoo and noticed all the blood was gone. She reached in and turned off the water. Martin squinted at her like someone awoken from a dream. Pam handed him a towel.

"Stay here and dry off," she said softy. "I'll be right back."

Pam went to the bedroom and found a pair of flannel lounge pants and an oversized T-shirt. She carried them back to the bathroom. Martin had towelled off and was standing nude outside the shower. Pam led him to the side of the hot tub and told him to sit. She handed him the pants. He held them limply for a moment and then put them on. She handed him the shirt and he set it in his lap. He looked up at her, expressionless. Pam took the shirt and put it over his head. "Lift your arms," she whispered. Martin raised his arms and Pam slipped them through the sleeves and pulled the shirt down over his body.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand. Martin stood up and Pam walked him to the bedroom. She pulled back the comforter and Martin lay down. She went to the other side of the bed and got in, snuggling close behind him and pulling the comforter over both of them. She suddenly realized that Martin had not spoken or even made a sound since they left the emergency clinic.

Pam draped her arm over him and rested her hand flat on his chest. His breathing was steady and even for several minutes. Pam assumed he was falling asleep. A tremor went through Martin's body and a long, high-pitched sound escaped from his throat. His hand shot up and clutched Pam's tightly as the mournful wail continued. Pam wrapped her arm around him tighter and stroked his hair.

The wail eventually became a small whimper. "Pam," he said. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I didn't cry after the accident with Mom, Dad and SuLyn. I never cried at all." Pam didn't say anything, but continued to stroke his hair. "This is a _dog_ , for chrissakes. They were my _family_. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you," Pam sighed. "The fact that you're crying actually makes me confident you're going to be okay. If you weren't crying, I'd be worried." Martin glanced back at her. He looked confused. She smiled gently and brushed a tear from his cheek. "You told me that after the car accident with your parents and SuLyn that you had a nervous breakdown. You told me that you never cried. I understand that a little bit better now. If you didn't cry then, it probably meant it didn't seem real to you – that you were in some horrible type of shock. This incident with Amber, heartbreaking as it is, is probably part of your healing process. You're dealing with the loss of Amber in the healthiest way imaginable. You're allowing yourself to _feel_ the grief."

Martin closed his eyes, but the tears still flowed down his face. "And Martin? The fact that Amber is a dog doesn't make any difference. She was someone you loved. I loved her too. There are so many kinds of love, Martin. And it always feels bad when we lose someone we love."

Martin opened his eyes. He rolled over to face her. The corners of his mouth turned up a little. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "You're right. I did love Amber. I got her so soon after the accident that part of me wonders if losing her is like losing the last little shred of Mom, Dad and SuLyn that I had left." He paused. "I can't imagine going through this without you. You're the centre of my world. I love you more than you can possibly imagine."

The tears stopped flowing. Pam smiled softly. "Martin, you have an amazing capacity for love. When I look into your eyes, it sometimes takes my breath away. I can only imagine what Amber felt. I think dogs have a fantastic sense about how humans feel about them. You told me a while ago that she brought you great joy. I'm sure you brought her great joy too."

Martin smiled and wrapped Pam in his arms. "Will you stay with me tonight, Pamela? I don't want to let you go yet."

"Yes," she said quietly. "I'll go change into one of your T-shirts and come right back." Martin stroked her hair. "Thank you," he whispered. Pam slipped out of bed and pulled one of Martin's shirts out of his dresser before heading to the bathroom. When she returned, he was asleep. Pam got into bed and snuggled up behind him. The heat of his body radiated onto her and she was asleep in minutes.

Dave was drinking a beer and watching the final inning of a baseball game when the phone rang. He picked it up after the first ring.

"Hello."

"Hi, Dad."

"Hello, Dylan. Your mom said you'd be calling. Are you coming home tonight?"

"No. I'm staying at Scott's. That okay with you?"

Dave took a sip of his beer. "Sure. I guess that means I'll have the house to myself tonight. Your sister's out and your mom's gone off to see someone who needs a bit of help."

Dylan heaved a sigh. "Oh, yeah – that creepy guy from her work who called her, right? I think his name is Martin. He sounded all weirded out about something."

Dave was silent.

"Dad? You still there?"

Dave cleared his throat. "Ummm...yeah. What do you mean...weirded out?"

"Ahhh, I don't know. He sounded kinda nervous or worried or something. What is it...some stupid public relations crap that can't wait until Monday? I thought Mom stopped working weekends when she quit that reporter job."

Dave took another swig of his beer. "Your mother does what she has to do, Dylan."

"Yeah. Whatever. Anyway, I'm staying at Scott's house tonight and I'll be home sometime tomorrow morning. See ya."

"See ya," said Dave. He turned off the phone and set it on the table beside him, staring at it.

When Pam awoke, Martin wasn't beside her. She got out of bed and used the bathroom before heading downstairs. He wasn't in the kitchen either. She found him standing in front of the mantle in the living room with something in his hand. He turned and looked at her.

"I found this in the basement," he said. It was a small photo frame. Martin took the back off the frame and picked a photo up off the top of the mantle. He set the photo inside the frame and snapped on the backing. While he was working with the frame, Pam noticed Amber's collar, set neatly in the middle of the mantle. Martin pulled out the flap on the back of the frame to make it stand up and set it on the mantle next to the dog collar. Pam wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"I think I'm ready to look at her now," he said quietly. SuLyn was in a ballet costume, up on her toes, arms stretched high and fingers touching, her dark hair pulled back tightly, a long ponytail cascading down her back, all the way to her waist. Her face was a vision of discipline and serenity.

"Isn't she beautiful?" said Martin, smiling softly.

"She's exquisite," said Pam.

Pam and Martin shared a simple breakfast of sliced cantaloupe, bananas and toast with peanut butter. When Martin went upstairs to shower, Pam pulled out her personal cell phone to call Dave. Pam expected she'd be leaving a message, but he answered after the first ring. She was surprised he wasn't out golfing.

"Hi Dave. I just thought I'd call and tell you everything is okay. I'll be home in a few hours."

Dave took a few seconds to respond. "How's your _friend_?"

"Hannah? Oh, she's okay, I guess. It's...well...you know...it's a woman thing."

"A woman thing," he said dully.

"That's right. I know you guys don't like to hear about stuff like that."

"Nope. We sure don't. Especially me, right? You know the type. The old Dave-with-the rose-coloured-glasses."

Pam frowned. Dave sounded very odd. "Are you okay, Dave?"

"Me? Sure. I guess I just had a bit of trouble sleeping, with you at your friend's house all night. I'm a bit tired."

"Maybe you should go back to bed," she said.

Dave paused. "I'm not sure that's going to help much."

"Well, it might."

"Uh-huh. You do what you have to do, Pam. I'll see you in a few hours."

Pam heard a click on the other end of the phone and then the dial tone. She had a prickly sensation in her scalp and arms. Pam turned off the phone and tossed it into her purse.

Pam and Martin went for a long walk before she left. They were very quiet, strolling through the streets in neighbourhoods south of the Danforth. Martin eventually started talking about Amber and all the great times he'd had with her. It made Pam feel a little teary, but she was happy Martin was able to talk about the dog and remember so many pleasant moments.

They hugged in the driveway around noon, before Pam made her way back home. She thought about Martin during the entire drive and hoped he was going to be okay. _I'll call him tonight and see how he's doing_.

When she entered her house, she saw Dave in the hallway wearing his golf gear. Pam gave him a quick hug.

"How's Hannah?" he asked.

"She'll be fine," said Pam. "She needed a bit of girl time with me. I'm glad I went to see her." She turned and started walking toward the kitchen.

"And how about Martin?"

Pam stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned around and stared at her husband for several seconds. "Martin?"

"Yeah, Martin...the Twitter guy from your office?"

Pam looked at Dave and breathed unsteadily. Her legs felt heavy.

"Dylan told me he called yesterday. Said he sounded real upset about something and wanted to talk to you."

Pam nodded very slowly. "Ummm...oh...Martin," she stammered. "He was having a bit of trouble with his project. He needed some advice."

"He relies on you for advice, does he?"

"Yes."

"What about you? Do you rely on him?"

Pam swallowed. "Sometimes."

Dave put his hands in his pockets and jingled his keys. "I suppose he's a good friend – someone who understands you – very supportive and empathetic."

Pam felt colour rising in her cheeks. She saw no point in lying.

"Yes," she whispered. "He can be."

Dave took his hands out of his pockets, grabbed his golf bag and swung it over his shoulder. He looked at his wife for a moment. "Good friends like that are hard to find." He took his keys out of his pocket. "So are good husbands."

Dave opened the front door. He stopped and turned. "Tom called a while ago. He booked us a green for this afternoon. I'll be back for supper."

Dave went out the door. Pam went to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa, lying back with her arm over her eyes.

"Shit!"

#  chapter twenty-NINE

Pam didn't call Martin on Sunday night, but on Monday morning, she walked straight to his office after getting off the elevator. He seemed startled when she walked in and closed the door. She sat bolt upright in the chair across from him.

"Dave knows."

Martin blinked rapidly. He wheeled his chair around to the front of his desk.

"Dave knows?"

She nodded. "I'm pretty sure." She put her hand on Martin's knee. "Dylan said something to him about you calling on Saturday. Yesterday when I got home, Dave asked me questions about you. He quoted some stuff back to me verbatim that I said to him during an argument. I'd told him I had a friend who was _empathetic and supportive_ – and that Dave didn't know him. I guess I might have hinted that it was a man."

Martin's jaw dropped. His expression was incredulous. "You told your _husband_ you had an _empathetic_ and _supportive_ male friend?"

Pam cringed. "It was during an argument, Martin. I didn't realize the impact it would have. I slipped up."

Pam's hand fell from his knee when Martin pushed with his feet and backed his chair away. "You _fucked_ up!" Martin raised his voice. "You fucked up big time." He clenched his teeth, glanced at the floor and glared back at her.

"What does this mean for _us_ , Pam?"

Pam glanced rapidly around the room. "I don't know," she said in a small voice. "I don't know if he's just going to let this pass by or not." She looked at Martin. "I don't want to lose either of you."

Martin shook his head. "You could _never_ lose me." He closed his eyes tight for a moment and opened them again. "But...I could never be the one to force you to make a choice, either. If continuing to be with me means the death of your marriage, then I'll back out of your life right now. It'll rip the heart right out of me, but I'll do it. I'd do it for you."

Pam covered her face with her hands. "I don't want to lose either of you," she repeated.

She dropped her hands to her lap and they looked at each other, neither one speaking. Martin wheeled his chair back behind his desk and typed something into his computer. His lips were pressed tightly together. He looked up.

"Let's let this sit, okay?" he said sharply. "Let's do our jobs today and let this sit and talk about it again tomorrow." He turned his eyes back to his computer screen. "I've got a lot of stuff to do today. I'm sure you do too."

Pam nodded cautiously. "Okay. One day. Let's get through the day and the night. We'll give it one day and talk again tomorrow."

Martin started typing again before she left his office.

The phone rang on Monday night just after Pam put the last plate into the dishwasher and turned it on. She grabbed the phone with one hand as she bent over to put the dishwasher detergent under the sink with the other hand.

"Hello."

"Pam? Pam, sweetie, how are you? You never called yesterday. I've been kind of worried."

"Hannah," Pam breathed, closing her eyes and dropping her chin to her chest. "Just a minute, okay?" Pam left the kitchen and opened the deck doors. She closed them behind her and wandered across the deck, onto the grass and into the backyard before putting the phone to her ear again.

"Okay," said Pam. "I can talk now."

"Pam, honey, what happened? What happened...with Amber?"

Pam looked to the west. The sun was still above the horizon, but it cast long shadows across the backyard. The days were getting shorter and the summer was winding down. Pam took a deep breath before she answered.

"She didn't make it. She died, Hannah."

The noise coming through to Pam's ear was minimal, but nonetheless, she heard a wavering gulp of air and a small sniffle.

"Oh, Pam, that's so sad. When I didn't hear from you yesterday morning, I assumed everything turned out fine with her. How did Martin take it?"

Pam walked over to a large maple tree and leaned on its trunk before answering. "Martin went completely to pieces."

"Oh, poor Martin. That's just tragic. I know how much he loved that dog."

"So do I," said Pam. "But Hannah, I'm not so sure it was tragic. Sure, it's terrible that he lost her. But it forced him to face the emotional baggage he's been carrying around all these years. Amber dying brought it all crashing in on him. He finally allowed himself to grieve."

Hannah sighed. "It's all part of the circle of life, isn't it? It's something we all have to accept eventually."

"I guess," said Pam.

"Pam?"

"Uh-huh?"

"What else is up?"

Pam shifted on the tree trunk. The bark scraped at her back through her T-shirt. "Hannah, I could never hide anything from you in a million years, could I?" Hannah didn't answer.

"Something happened when I got home yesterday. Dave confronted me about Martin. Dylan told him Martin called and I guess Dave put two and two together." Hannah whistled through her teeth. "He didn't come right out and say, 'I know,' but Hannah, _I'm sure_ he knows."

"Oh my god, Pam. I can't even imagine how that felt."

"It felt like being strangled," she responded. "But that might not even be the worst part."

"What could be worse?"

Pam slumped down, set her bottom on the grass and leaned back against the tree. "Martin. I told Martin this morning. I told him that Dave knows. He was furious with me."

"Furious with you?"

"Yeah. I could deal with him being mad, but then he really scared me. He said he didn't want to break up my marriage and that he'd leave me before he let that happen." She pressed a hand to her chest and her voice began to waver. "He said he'd back out of my life rather than have me make a choice between him and Dave. He meant it, Hannah. He really meant it."

"Oh, sweetie," Hannah murmured. "He loves you so much. I'm sure it tore him up to say that."

Pam looked up at the canopy of branches above her. "That doesn't make it any easier." She sniffed. "They're both so very special in their own ways. I love them both. I don't want to lose either one of them, Hannah."

The phone was silent for a minute.

"Then don't."

Pam frowned. "Hannah, didn't you hear me? Dave knows!" She huffed out a breath as she stood up again and pushed her back away from the tree. "I'm seeing danger on the horizon. Martin's livid. Dave's face is so expressionless; god only knows how he feels. He's barely said a word to me. He probably hates me." The tone of her voice kicked up a notch. "My worst nightmare is that I'm going to lose _both_ of them."

The other end of the phone hung silent again. Pam wrapped one arm around her body and leaned her head on the hand holding the phone.

"Pam, honey. Pam, you know I'm never at a loss for words. But...right now...I can't think of what to say." She paused for several seconds. "You know I've always tried to be there for you. I've always tried to support you in any way I can – and I'll continue to do that. But sweetie...I don't think I can help you with this one. I don't think I should even try."

Pam nodded.

"You know I love you, don't you sweetie?"

"I know, Hannah."

"That's good you know. I want you to know I'll _always_ love you."

One side of Pam's mouth turned down and she pressed her lips together tightly.

"I love you too. I always will," she whispered. Pam took the phone away from her ear, pressed the 'end' button and shoved it into her pocket. She leaned her shoulder against the tree trunk and stared in the direction of the setting sun.

# chapter THIRTY

Martin and Pam sat side-by-side on chairs in Pinches office, across from his desk. He'd sent them a meeting invitation for 9:15 on Tuesday morning.

The two of them saw it when they turned on their computers. They hadn't had the chance to speak to each other before coming to his office. Pam and Martin arrived at Pinches' office door at the same time and walked in, taking their seats. Beverly poked her head in briefly to say Mr. Pinches was taking a bathroom break and would be with them in a minute.

Pam looked at Martin nervously and whispered. "What do think this is about? Do you think he knows?"

"I don't know. We've been careful. I don't see how he could know." Martin shook his head. "Even if he does, I don't know what he could do about it." He reached out and put his

hand on the top of Pam's. "No matter what happens –nothing's going change the way I feel about you."

They heard footsteps approaching and Martin pulled his hand back onto his lap. Pinches strolled into his office and wordlessly sat at his desk. He looked first at Pam and then at Martin.

"Ms. Williams, Mr. Campbell – I think we have something to talk about."

Pam shifted in her chair. Martin pursed his lips and looked straight into Pinches' eyes.

Pinches cleared his throat. "This involves the two of you, so I wanted to talk to you together. I know you've been spending a lot of time together. That was my idea several months ago, but Ms. Williams is responsible for the rest."

Martin leaned forward. "Pinches, you can't say that. It isn't only Pam who's responsible."

Pinches nodded. "I agree with you, and I do appreciate a man who stands up for himself. You've certainly have given it all you've got."

Martin and Pam glanced at each other briefly before turning their attention back to the boss.

"I know you've worked together closely. Work relationships can be very special. That's why I wanted to deliver this news to you together." Pinches smiled and pressed his hands together in front of his chest. "I sealed a deal this weekend that fulfills one of my lifelong dreams. I'm opening a second branch of Pinches Public Relations in downtown Toronto." He chuckled loudly. "I don't know if I've ever been so excited in my life!"

Pam looked at her shoes and Martin's gaze dropped to Pinches' tie. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He licked his lips and swallowed. Martin forced a smile. "Mr. Pinches...congratulations. That is some wonderful piece of news. Thanks for calling us in to tell us about it."

Pinches nodded pleasantly. "Thank, you, Martin, but that's not the only reason I asked you in here." Pam stopped looking at her shoes and met Pinches' gaze.

"You two have worked wonders for this company. You, Pam, with your outstanding work on the Brown Shoes account; and you, Martin, for introducing this company to the expanding world of social media marketing."

"Thank you," they responded together.

"I've also been very impressed with the monthly reports you've sent me. Pam, you have done a fine job in mentoring Martin. He's come up with some creative and innovative ideas that have the potential to make Pinches the most successful public relations firm in this city. To a large extent, I'm crediting you for what I'm about to say."

He turned to Martin. "My lad, I saw great potential in you the first time I spoke to you. You've brought this company nothing but success. I'd like to make you an offer that I hope you'll jump at. I want you to lead the team at my new downtown branch, which is going to specialize in social media marketing. And I don't want you to remain strictly in the role of social marketing, either – I want you as my Corporate Marketing Manager for the entire branch."

"It would be a small staff to start out," Pinches continued, "but I see growth potential. Of course, the salary and benefits will be substantially higher than I've been paying you here. It's a big responsibility, but I can't imagine anyone else I'd want at the helm."

Pinches turned to Pam. "And you, Pam – I'd like you to stay here, but be my Corporate Liaison Manager between the two offices. I need you to keep the communications flowing seamlessly between the Kingston Road office and the downtown branch. You and Martin seem to work well together, so I'm assuming your teamwork would help substantially with the success of the new branch. Of course, you'd be remunerated handsomely for your extra responsibilities."

Martin sat still in his chair and blinked several times. "Mr. Pinches, I don't know what to say."

Pam shook her head. "I'm not sure what to say either."

Pinches laughed. "Then don't say anything. Think it over as long as you want...but make sure you give me an answer by this weekend." He laughed again. "I'm planning on getting the place going some time next week...right after the Labour Day weekend. That's the first week back to school after summer holidays. Since I was a kid, that always seemed like the first week of the new year to me. Seems like a great time to start a new venture!"

Pinches rose from behind his desk and stepped forward, extending his arm and shaking Pam's hand first and then Martin's. "I suppose you two have some thinking to do. Have a fine day."

Pam and Martin smiled at their boss and left quickly. Martin's office was closest and they headed to it. They walked inside, shutting the door behind them.

Martin sat on the front edge of his desk and Pam leaned back against the door. They were quiet for several minutes.

"Holy crap!" said Pam.

"Holy crap indeed," Martin replied.

The space between them was awkward and silent. _I haven't said a word to him about Amber and we haven't even had a chance to talk about yesterday's issues – and now this_.

"This Pinches dude certainly has some interesting timing," Martin finally said.

Pam sat down in Martin's spare office chair. She crossed her arms and sucked in a breath. "What do _you_ want, Martin?"

Martin grabbed his own chair, wheeled it around and sat in front of Pam. He looked directly into her eyes. He took her hands in his and squeezed them hard.

"I want it all."

Pam looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I want everything. I want you. I want this job. I want the promotion downtown. I want to be happy. I want you to be happy. Believe or not, I even want Dave to be happy." Martin looked down at her hands.

"But...having said all that, I'm torn up inside, because it's really not my decision. It's yours. None of what I've said can be possible without the go-ahead from you."

Pam frowned. "Why _me_?"

Martin smiled a sad little smile. "Because you have the most to lose."

Martin softened the grip on her hands. "Look, it's Tuesday. I'm going to tell Pinches I need a few days off to think seriously about his offer – starting today. That will give you some time away from me to form a bit more perspective." He smiled again. "Your birthday is on Saturday. If you don't call me by your birthday, I'll tell Pinches to shove it and I'll walk away – from this firm, from you, even from this city. If I don't have you...then...well, there's nothing left here for me."

Pam's eyes started to fill. Martin watched her face. His lips trembled a little. "Hey, don't cry," he said, wiping a tear from her face. Pam looked into his eyes. The anger she had seen there the day before had evaporated. Martin tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want you to be happy. That's what I want most. If that means giving you up, that's what I'm going to do. That's one decision I've made on my own." He threw his arms around her and held her tightly. "I'll always love you, Pamela. No matter what you decide, I'll always love you."

He eventually let go and pushed his chair back. His arms fell to his sides. He looked at her one last time before he got up and walked out the door. Pam sat alone until she was able to pull herself together. She went back to her own office and closed the door. She stayed there until the end of the day.

Pam had the purple cell phone in her hand many times over the next couple of days. Life at home seemed eerily normal. Dave was still Dave – but he was very quiet – especially when they were alone. She hadn't said anything to him about her potential promotion at work.

Several times, Pam sat in her office and stared at the phone, her fingers hovering over the numbers. Each time, she stopped herself at the last minute and tossed the phone back into her purse, not bothering to tuck it into the secret compartment. She sat at her desk, staring into her purse at the purple phone. _I have until my birthday. I'll make a decision before my birthday._

Pam strolled into Pinches Public Relations at exactly 9 a.m. on Friday, the day before her 50th birthday. The place seemed basically deserted, but that didn't surprise her. Mr. Pinches had spread the word about the new branch and several of the consultants had gone to visit the site before the Labour Day weekend.

Pam sat at her desk and turned on her computer, scanning through her e-mails. Pinches had sent her a couple of leads to follow up on. The rest of the e-mails were company-wide announcements from HR and accounting, as well as a couple of junk messages that had somehow wormed their way through the server's spam filter. She deleted the junk and turned her attention to the leads from Mr. Pinches. After her assignment as team leader on the Brown Shoes account, they looked deathly dull, but they would give her something to concentrate on for now.

Pam closed her eyes and listened to the silence of the office. It was a strange sound for a workplace that was usually boisterous and energetic. A strange, rhythmic creaking sound started up. It seemed to be getting louder. Pam opened her eyes and frowned, wondering where it was coming from.

Footsteps accompanied the creaking and Pam leaned over in her chair in an attempt to see down the hallway. She jumped as a large cart stopped abruptly in front of her office door. At least 20 people jumped behind the cart and yelled, "Surprise!" Mr. Pinches was in the middle of the crowd and led everyone in singing _Happy Birthday._

Pam was stunned. She hadn't told anyone except Martin about her upcoming birthday. And, of course, Martin wasn't in the crowd.

"Ms. Williams, I know we don't usually celebrate birthdays around here, but I heard through the office grapevine that tomorrow is...ahhhh...how shall I say it...a bit of a 'milestone' birthday for you? I didn't want that to slip by unnoticed."

Pinches stepped into her office. Pam stood up and Pinches wrapped his arms tightly around her. _He's never done that before!_ "Congratulations, Pam. Welcome to the half-century club." He chuckled and everyone in the crowd laughed.

"Now, I have a little surprise for you. A little bird whispered in my ear a while ago that you aren't fond of cake. I can't even imagine that. But as I've always said...whatever floats your boat is good with me!" He turned his head. "Beverly?"

Beverly smiled and lifted a lid off the cart. 'OOoohhhs and awwwsss' erupted among the crowd. On a silver platter on top of the cart was the largest slab of baklava anyone had ever seen. It was absolutely swimming in honey, which drizzled off the sides of the platter and onto the cart. Pam stepped forward to look at it and her mouth dropped open. She sucked in her lips and put on her best poker face.

The baklava had a single candle in the middle. Beverly lit it. "Come on, Pam," she said eagerly. "Make a wish and blow it out." Pam stared at the candle for a moment and swallowed a lump in her throat. She squeezed her eyes tight, opened them and blew out the candle. The team cheered ecstatically.

"Let's devour this thing," shouted Kenny, which brought renewed laughter to the crowd. "You're going to have to wait your turn, Kenny," Beverly chided. "The first piece is for the birthday girl." Beverly picked up a huge, serrated knife and sawed through the phyllo pastry, cutting off a large piece. She placed it on a plate and handed it to Pam. Everyone cheered.

Pam held the plate in her hand and looked around at her co-workers. They were silent and staring at her. They're expecting some sort of speech. Pam sighed and began to talk.

"Thank you, everyone. This is so sweet of you." She looked around at the smiling faces. "This past year, I've learned a lot. With your help, I've learned that I can lead, but also that I can listen and that I don't have to do absolutely everything by myself." She looked down at her plate. "I've learned that friendship means more than I ever imagined – and that love means even more than that."

Pam looked up again and saw uncomfortable looks on the faces of her co-workers. She was silent for a moment but then shook her head and raised her fist into the air. "What I really meant to say was...Go Team Pinches!" The smiles returned to everyone's faces and they cheered once again. "Enjoy the baklava," she added, turning back into her office and sitting down with the plate in front of her.

The employees gathered around the cart to dive into the baklava. The voices and laughter increased in volume. Pam saw mostly backs and she was no longer the centre of attention. A few minutes later, the crowd dispersed and Beverly wheeled the squeaky cart back down the hallway.

Pam sat alone and stared at the baklava on the paper plate in front of her. She set her elbows on the desk, put her hands on her face and looked at the baklava through her fingers. The office became very quiet again. Pam stared at the baklava for a long time.

#  chapter thirty-ONE

It was hot and gusty, but the late August air was dry as Pam strolled into the park just past noon. The breeze whipped her hair around and it covered her eye. She didn't bother to flip it back behind her ear. After the unexpected birthday greeting that morning, she was thankful to be away from the office.

As she came up a rise and approached the railing, Lake Ontario came into view. The water was choppy and small whitecaps dotted the liquid landscape. The wind was the primary sound, but she also heard waves crashing onto the rocks far below.

She reached the railing she had visited so many times over the years. Pam leaned onto it and memories of the past several months flooded through her. She'd been here countless times on her own. It was one of her favourite contemplative spots. It had always been a place where she came to think, or simply to escape. The setting had taken on a heightened significance to her during the past year.

Pam gazed at the sparkles on the water. Her mind wandered back to the first time she leaned over this railing with Martin and stared out at the lake. The sparkles had the same hypnotic quality now as they did on that day. There's something about water. I could look at water forever.

Pam shifted on the railing and her purse bumped gently into her side. She stared at it for a moment. Pam reached down, unzipped her purse, spread it wide open and took out the piece of yellow paper she'd been carrying around for seven months. The edges were tattered and the sheet was lined with wrinkles from being in her purse for so long. She leaned on the railing with her elbows and held the list in both hands.

"One left."

15 Things to Do Before I am 50

- Drink a $100 bottle of wine (maybe by myself-or maybe with a friend)

- Smoke pot (definitely with a friend)

- Read a 500-page book in one sitting

- Meet Mulder

- Jump out of a perfectly good airplane

- Say no when you feel obligated to say yes

- Have phone sex

- Steal something – something fun

- Get a classy tattoo in a private place

- Have the house to myself for an entire weekend

- Do something completely stupid

- Buy a pair of expensive silk undies, wear them once

and throw them away

- Play hooky from work (and do something fun)

- Figure out what I want to be when I grow up

- Eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz dark chocolate ice-cream

Pam looked at the list intently for another minute.

"Figure out what I want to be when I grow up."

Pam glanced at the list again and a smile began to form at the corners of her mouth. She reached into her purse, pulled out a pen and stared at the words again _._

That night when I made up this list with Hannah, it was really a joke. I had no idea what that line on the list even meant – it just seemed funny at the time.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, smelling apples. Pam opened her eyes and looked up. The branches of the wild apple tree beside the railing were heavy with clusters of small apples, mottled in red and green. She leaned out across the railing and was barely able to reach one of the lower branches. Pam wrapped her hand around an apple and pulled. The branch moved toward her and then snapped back as the apple detached into her hand.

She ran her thumb across its surface. It had several rough, brownish scabs but didn't look like it had any worm holes. She held it under her nose. Its surface was warm and it had a strong aroma. She placed her lips onto the skin. When she finally bit into it, she winced at the tartness. The flavour seemed to sharpen even more as she chewed. It created a sensation in her mouth that no grocery store apple ever would. She took several more small bites. The flesh of the wild apple browned before her eyes.

Pam took one last bite of the apple before whipping it above her head and flinging it hard in the direction of the lake. She watched as the apple sailed through the air and fell, bouncing off a rocky area. It hit the bluff and tumbled down the hill at the bottom before it disappeared from view. Pam rolled her tongue around in her mouth and sucked on the tart taste that coated her teeth.

She turned her attention back to her list and held the pen in her right hand, hovering above the paper. She set the paper on the railing and exhaled softly. Pam took the pen and drew a line through the final item on her list. She read though the list one last time.

15 Things to Do Before I am 50

- Drink a $100 bottle of wine (maybe by myself-or maybe with a friend)

- Smoke pot (definitely with a friend)

- Read a 500-page book in one sitting

- Meet Mulder

- Jump out of a perfectly good airplane

- Say no when you feel obligated to say yes

- Have phone sex

- Steal something – something fun

- Get a classy tattoo in a private place

- Have the house to myself for an entire weekend

- Do something completely stupid

- Buy a pair of expensive silk undies, wear them once

and throw them away

- Play hooky from work (and do something fun)

- Figure out what I want to be when I grow up

- Eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz dark chocolate ice-cream

Pam put the pen away and started folding the edges of the paper toward the middle. Once she had a nearly perfect triangle, she folded the sides in toward each other at the middle and pressed them together on the iron railing. Pam folded down flaps on each side and held her creation in her hands for a moment, smoothing out the wrinkles and making certain it came to a sharp point in the front.

She lifted it high above her head, as she had done with the apple, and let it fly. The paper airplane soared high above the bluffs. A gust of wind caught it, spun it a couple of times, and sent it hurtling toward the lake.

Pam shouted out loud as it continued on its journey.

"I want to be the woman who doesn't let any opportunity slip through her fingers. I don't want to be like anybody else. I don't want to live up to anyone else's expectations. I want to be a _woman fulfilled_. I want to be good to _me_."

The little airplane was getting harder to see. It was caught up in the gusts. It pitched one way and the other, but leveled out again before it took a nosedive and spiraled into the water, where it instantly disappeared.

Pam leaned over the railing and watched the sparkles on the water dancing up and down. She squinted until sparkles were all she could see. Pam slowly opened her eyes again and let the world come back into focus.

She stared into her purse, which was still wide open. The sun glinted off the cell phone lying at the bottom.

Pam reached in and pulled out the purple phone. She gazed out at the sparkles one more time before flipping the phone open. Pam brought up a finger and punched in a 5 and then a 0.

READ THE SEQUEL!

## Available at all major online retailers

The Other Side of Fifty

### By Darlene Hesley

The Fifty List series:

The Fifty List (Book 1)

The Other Side of Fifty (Book 2)

Fifty More (Book 3 **)**

The Innocent Flame of Seduction – A Tale of Love and Loyalty in Medieval Ireland

(Turn on Adult Content at top right in Smashwords)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

WWW.DARLENEHESLEY.COM

Darlene Hesley is a happily married mother of one who lives somewhere between Toronto and Manitoulin Island in Ontario, Canada. She is an avid fan of The X-Files and, like Pam, loves writing fanfiction, eating great food and drinking red wine. Ms. Hesley discovered the joys of tapping into her over-active imagination at the age of 12 – when her teacher insisted she finish her creative writing assignments. She was a newspaper reporter, trade magazine writer and corporate communications specialist before becoming a full-time novelist. The Fifty List is her first full-length novel and she absolutely loved writing it.
