TLC part 1

Renee dropped her purse and kicked off her heels as she slammed her door shut. Her keys rolled off the purse and jingled as they fell on the floor. She turned around to twist the deadbolt into the lock position. Satisfied for her relative safety, she made for the refrigerator and pulled out the small container of pineapple orange juice. Her red power blazer drifted to the floor in front of the sink. Normally she was meticulous with her housekeeping…but none of that mattered right now. She was too angry to care about anything but trying to relax at the moment.
She unbuttoned her blouse, revealing the ivory lace camisole underneath. The red skirt was about to drop to the floor, but after a long sip of the juice she decided against it. A long, warm bubble bath was her deep desire at the moment. The skirt would come off in the bathroom.
Renee took a look at her brown briefcase lying near the door. She sneered at it, told it to go to Hell, and continued to her living room. She realized the tumbler was empty. More juice wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. She reached for a bottle of Shiraz instead, filling the glass nearly two-thirds full. The proper type of drinking vessel did not matter to her at the moment. The fact that she’d just lost an important bid for a lucrative company did. She continued to mentally rake herself over the coals, playing out every possible scenario she could to make the outcome different, but none of it mattered. The fact was she’d lost the client; and, for now, she needed to nurse her wounds. Tomorrow she’d pour over every bit of information she has for the almost-client. Maybe a good night’s sleep would give her a fresh perspective over the debacle. Maybe it was salvageable. Maybe.
She sipped the wine as she made her way to her living room-and did a double-take when she realized who was lounging on her couch. “Heath!” she nearly dropped her glass.
Heath was stretched out in total comfort; hands behind his head, shirt on the floor next to the coffee table, Levis still on, cowboy boots next to the shirt, his long legs crossed and resting on the coffee table, socks still on his feet. He soaked in her beauty for a moment, starting with her feet. The silly grin on his face disappeared when he got to her face. It was obvious she’d been crying; mascara streaked halfway down both cheeks. He bounced off the couch immediately and took her in his arms. She willingly accepted his comfort. He wasn’t supposed to be in town for another week, but didn’t care at the moment. On his shoulder she let loose and cried. She’d never cried in front of him before…but, again. At this moment she couldn’t care less about her looks. He held her tighter, not saying a word, knowing she would tell him what happened when she was ready. He gently moved her toward the couch. They both sat down, still hugging, and when he was comfortably seated he pulled her into his lap. She could hear him murmuring soothing words, but the tears were coming so fast she couldn’t understand what he was saying. His left hand rubbed her back lightly. Such a comfort. She didn’t know what brought him to her a week early…and it didn’t matter. She was grateful for his presence; he was a source of great comfort at the moment.

Yeah, I am exhausted.

Renee;

Our weekend together was indescribable...although I am getting some much needed rest right now...got the next two hours or so off...I can't stop thinking about you. I've got some time off coming up. We are definitely going to go some place sunny and lazy...and private. I'm going to do things to you you've never even imagined before. You stuffy investment banker types...putty in my hands. And you know you love every second of it...Dammit. I'm supposed to be recouperating right now...but thinking of you in that red number is irritating a part of my body that should be totally exhausted...Soon, Renee. Very, very soon...

Heath