The Account Manager p4

She sensed that he was busy and didn't have time for further chat. They shook hands and she left.

He said he had missed me. Missed me as a competent young sales rep? Missed me in a more personal way? I missed him too, more than he could possibly know, she thought as she drove home.

They did not travel together before the sales meeting. She was disappointed that he wasn't on her flight.

She arrived at the resort, checked in and went to a welcoming reception. She still didn't see Shawn. Someone told her that all of the managers were in a meeting. Shit.

This was a, 'business casual' meeting. She was wearing, 'business shorts'. He seemed genuinely pleased to see her. God, he looked good. Those damned eyes just look right through me. That smile could melt ice. She was moist again.

The meeting was boring.

The meeting broke up, and they all went back to their rooms to get ready for the big dinner. Everyone shared a room at these events; her roommate was a mousy young woman of about her age with whom she had nothing in common, but she was nice and they got along together fine. I guess not much fucking goes on at these meetings, since everyone shares a room, she thought.

At dinner, they sat by offices in the same section of the ball room. She wished she could have sat next to Shawn. There were name cards---assigned seating. He wasn't even at the same table, but did make the rounds and chat with each attendee. She wished she could have him to herself. Stop it.

After the dinner, when all of the big wigs had given their meaningless speeches, everyone gravitated to one of the many bars within the hotel. She lost track of Shawn. She saw him in one bar, obviously in deep conversation with the VP and some HQ folks; she decided not to interrupt.

Later she contemplated her next move. She went to a house phone and asked to be connected to his room, not exactly sure what she was going to say to him. She just knew she had to talk to him---hear his voice.

"Shawn Sutherland." He answered.

"Shawn, hi, it's Samantha." She hesitated. "Are you turning in for the night or are you coming back down?" She inquired, desperately hoping the answer was no, that he wasn't gone for the evening.

He paused, then spoke. "Once the liquor flows, I tend to sneak out; it's not my favorite part of the meeting. I went to the hotel gym and worked out---fabulous, by the way---took a shower and changed into shorts."

Then, after another brief pause, he continued. "I really missed talking to you."

"Samantha." He said, almost cautiously. "I'm not coming back down, but you're welcome to come up and rest your broken leg and shoulders and.. I'd love to see you. This is more of a suite than a regular room so it's not like you'd have to sit on one of the beds, or anything."

"I'd like that." She said softly, trying to hide the hint in her voice that she would more than like that, tickled at his concern for her modesty.

"Feel free to change into, 'non-business casual' or, 'grubbies' if you like whatever will be comfortable with your big cast. How long do you need? Does twenty minutes sound realistic?" He asked.

"It's a date." She replied, immediately regretting her choice of words.

"See 'ya." He said, and the phone clicked off.

What the hell was she going to wear? She chose a pair of nylon running shorts. Her ass looked good enough to eat in them; they were short, and showed off her magnificent cast. He was obviously interested and intrigue about how he would make love to this injured woman...Just kidding

Yes she was going to play the broken leg card. A tank top. A sleeveless tank top. No bra, she didn't need one with her first breast. Underwear. Fuck it, she hated underwear. Sandal.

Looking in the full length mirror as she prepared to leave her room, she surveyed the result on her crutches. She looked
damned fine.

Arriving at Shawn's door, she checked herself out in the hallway mirror one last time. God that cast was long.
She knocked on the door, still not sure what was going to happen, but having high hopes. Hopes of what, he is married and you don’t have sex with married man?

He jerked open the door; there he was. She was again moving from moist to wet, almost regretting not wearing underwear.

"Hi, babe, good to see 'ya!" He exclaimed and led her into the room.

Was that just a friendly, 'babe' or something more? The room was exquisite. It was large, it had a separate sitting room, a balcony with a door that actually opened and a huge whirlpool tub in the bathroom which stepped up into a walk in shower.

"So this is how management lives?" she playfully inquired. Standing there she realized that her crutches she pushing on her breasts.

"Not really." He replied. "I paid for the upgrade out of my own pocket. I'm getting too old for roommates and it gives me a place to meet with members of our team---like you, for example."

They sat on the couch, not really a sofa, but bigger than a love seat. There were two wine glasses on the coffee table.

"You want a pillow for your leg and Can I pour you a glass?"

"By all means yes to the wine and no to the pillow. My leg is fine. Just have to give it time to heal" She responded, realizing, as she spoke that she was sliding toward sultry. The wine was amazing.