Front Row
Read Time: About 40 minutes
Appo
Yet again Bailey’s sexy, blinged-out, red thong had crawled into places reserved for double-ply toilet paper. She discreetly shifted it back into less hemorrhoid-prone territory. She raised her chin, confidently. Her skirt was short, but not as short as it could have been. It wasn’t tight. It was flared and flirty. She strutted from the front desk and headed for the vast hotel lobby toward the 12th Annual Travel Professionals Conference meeting room.
This was not her first conference. Bailey knew the ropes. The first day would reveal the personality and goals of the attendees. There would be a few who headed straight for the front row. Those were the snotty do-gooders, eager to show they were conscientious. For them, this trip would be all about business. They were also the ones most likely to share with co-workers back home every little detail—about what happened at the workshop and away from the workshop.
Then, there was the next group of attendees who sat in the middle of the class room. They attended the course because it meant abandoning their cubicle for the excitement of four days in Las Vegas. They would pay attention to the conference speakers, but they would pay more attention to the clock and casinos. They were not likely to share any details about anything outside the conference.
Then there were the attendees who went straight to the back of the workshop meeting room. They were not even sure what the conference was about—they really didn’t care. They just needed to be out of the office, near the door and close to the casino and bar.
Bailey usually sat in the middle of the conference room. True, it was way in the back of the middle…but still in the middle. She intended to have fun while she was there this time. During her last trip, she traveled with her director and she got little time to explore. He was her constant companion with only business on his mind. He peppered her with questions about how the conference techniques would work back at their office. She could not avoid him. This trip would be different.
She was one of three attendees from her office. She intended to have fun. However, she suspected her other two co-workers, Kyle Wagman and Jennifer Sela would grab seats on the front row.
Bailey was mentally recounting how to avoid her office mates. She had already ensured her room was on a different floor. She made a quick phone call before she checked-in to make sure of that. Now all she had to do was to share dinner with Kyle and Jennifer on the first night and disappear for the rest of this evening. She’d repeat this process all week.
As her thoughts floated toward ways to get more personal time while in Sin City, she could feel her thong beginning to shift yet again. She was now certain she should have bought a larger size. Though it was a daring maneuver in her five-inch heels, she abruptly shifted her hips and her gait.
Then cute turned to chaos.
Bailey’s ankle wobbled and her hips swayed uneasily to the left. She counter-balanced by swinging her right arm widely and thrusting her breasts outward. She swayed way too far forward to keep the laws of physics in her favor. Bailey now graced the marbled floor with her barely covered crotch displayed under subdued lighting. She took a quick injury assessment. Only her pride was bruised. She looked around to check for witnesses.
A shy “Thank you” escaped her moist lips as a kind gentleman extended his supportive hand. Clearly, from his prospective, she had no more secrets.
He tried not to smile. There was surprise, but no laughter. It was as though he had received a gift he wanted but was surprised to get. The corners of his mouth turned upward—slightly and sympathetically.
Bailey took his hand.
“Are you alright?” He said, in a voice that sounded like a radio announcer.
“Yes, I think everything is still working fine.”
He pulled her up to her feet and used his arm to steady her.
Bailey brushed her hair out of her face and adjusted her feet in her skyscraper shoes.
They were quickly surrounded by the Concierge, two bellhops and several hotel guests. All inquired about her condition.
“I’m fine, I’m fine…really…I’m okay.” She said.
After taking a few steps with the strange gentleman’s arm around her waist, she managed to convince the group that she was as good as new. Her sex appeal and pride were the unspoken exceptions. After she declined several offers to visit the first aide station, the group slowly drifted away. One of the hotel guests, a personal injury attorney, pressed his business card in her hand before walking away.
“This is so damn embarrassing.” Bailey mumbled to herself as she stood unaided near a cushioned chair in the lobby.
“Better it be a fleeting moment of embarrassment, than a long term incapacitation.” Said the voice of the radio announcer.
He had not drifted away with the others.
“I’m John…John Waterman.” He said, offering his hand, this time for her to shake.
Bailey gave him her best firm handshake, the one that is meant to dispel any hint of weakness or lack of control.
“Bailey Winters…thanks for your help. But, I’m really ok ” said Bailey.
“I have no doubt of that Ms Winters. You seem perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. This was merely a momentary setback.” John said. Then smiled.
“Thankfully.” She responded.
He was tall…6’2” maybe. His silver grey hair was neatly cut and styled…a bit thin on top, but still nice. She now fixed on his very brown eyes. They were kind and inquisitive, with the slightest hint of mischief. His suit hung elegantly on his medium frame. It was dark grey…a color that spoke in the voice of tradition, while his tie—purple specks on a fuchsia background—screamed non-traditional and playful.
He watched Bailey’s eyes.
“This is my favorite tie. No, it was not a gift. I actually picked it out myself. Surprised?”John said.
“No...it’s a great tie. I love the color. A bit unexpected.“ Bailey said as she caught herself smiling broader than she thought she should after her recent spill.
“I like the unexpected. It often leads to exciting discoveries. The beaten path is…well so very beaten. There are no adventures or new scenery…or jaw-dropping surprises there.” He said in the voice Bailey decided she wanted to hear more.
“Surprises are nice.” Bailey said. Immediately, she knew her comment sounded shallow and childish. She needed to recover.
“Well, thank you again for all your help. I’m a Project Manager and I was headed to a conference. I’m afraid my little gymnastics event has made me late. Are you staying at the hotel? Perhaps, I can buy you a drink later to thank you for your assistance?” She said. Why did she say that?
“I’ll be here for a few days on business. However, a drink is not necessary. I’m grateful to you for giving me an opportunity to practice my chivalry. Here’s my card though, just in case you want to practice your gymnastics again.” John said.
He smiled, handed her his card, tilted his head and walked toward the business center.
Bailey’s embarrassment had drained away, but not her fascination with this stranger with the baritone voice. She hurried, more carefully now, to the conference meeting room.
Kyle and Jennifer gra