How time creeps up on you, as I thought of the ten years with the firm. The mist was almost a passing 
thought as I slung my blue pumps into the passenger seat and sped off to work in my new 2002 ruby red Ferrari.
 I wasn't one to flirt or gossip openly as the girls in the office.  I still remembered my cues from Saint Mary’s.  I knew the right things to say, but had learned to speak my mind eloquently and quite frequently.  I squirmed from the right and to the left while I just giggled and smiled as the gossip flowed around the lunch table. My long brown bangs dropped a few times as I turned from one gossiper to the next girl. The bangs were so irritating but sexy, I thought.  Ten years at the firm and still not married, I kept listening in as my mind drifted. The law firm of Hutchinson & Hutchinson was now moving their corporate office to Virginia Beach. I was keenly aware that the firm wasn't just downsizing as the gossip suggested.  My last date with a junior partner, Sam Carver, left me with 
a promising future with the firm. Changing the college applications at the last minute was one decision I didn’t regret.

       The first encounter with Sam Carver happened at one of the firm’s luncheons in the Banquet Hall at the Doubletree Hotel. It had been announced only a week earlier of Sam’s induction as a junior partner but was now official as the senior Hutchinson, William Hutchinson, made the announcement of both Sam’s appointment and moving the corporate office to Virginia Beach. His heavy gray eyebrows always gave it away when a speech was about to commence. A shock to most but William Hutchinson had been a dinner guest many times at the Covington’s Estate. I rarely missed any of the juicy conversations that derived from these family dinners. 
Now Sam was an entirely different man of what I had dated previously or even the many Covington’s managers that were introduced to me at bequest of daddy. I could always tell when daddy placed his approval on another bachelor in my life. Sam’s statue rose inches above the senior officer with his sandy blonde hair cut perfectly just over his ears, even his smile seem to glisten has he stood and made few short remarks. One of the few trips to the bar, I slightly brushed against his firm strong body. 
“Oh! Please excuse me,” he said, “By the way I’m Sam Carver.” 
I just thought for a minute, almost stunned but had to say something in my eloquent voice.
“Thank you, I’m so clumsy, -- I’ve seen you in the corridors from time to time.”
“Oh and I am --”.
Sam stopped me half way through my clumsy introduction, “I know, Danielle Covington, Mr. Hutchinson has mentioned you frequently.” 

       The meeting was a little awkward but we both walked away wanting for more. The next day Sam decided to pay me a visit. It’s about time, I thought. It was only one floor down and it was on his way to one of his client’s briefing. I innocently sorted through some papers. His long narrow face stretched in to my office.
“I’m having a party this weekend, I would like you to come,” his mystic blue eyes sparkled with anticipation. 
My size 5, bare feet crossed under the walnut desk. A smile of approval tenderly shifted towards the open door. The words stuck to the roof of my mouth with my dreams standing in the doorway.
“Sure, Sam!” I gleamed back with a sexiest tone of wonder. I stopped him before he could fade back into the five-story firm.
“Here’s my cell number,” as I handed Sam a business card. The card was on the official Hutchinson & Hutchinson logo, two lions facing each other with the inscription, Justice We Serve, over an English coat of arms shield.  Directly under that, the logo read, Danielle Covington, and my official title, Executive Analysis with both office and my cellular number neatly placed on the two lower corners. 

 “Call me later, so I can get directions,” my response was more than just an invitation.
 It was Friday and the move was only weeks away. I scrambled to file each document correctly while placing memos in the out basket and another to my secretary. Three twenty-eight, the watch was ticking away closer to three-thirty.  I had made a point to get away early this weekend. The sun was still high in the western horizon as I threw my pumps into the passenger side of the vehicle.  My fingers turned the key springing the Ferrari to action and almost missing my Nokia cell phone tapping out the melody of Debussy's Claire de Lune. 
“Hello,” I hesitantly yelled in the hands-free microphone and backing out of my parking spot simultaneously. 
“Trying to get away, uh?” The strong voice was Sam with a slight laugh at the end. I was unaware of his snooping eyes peering from the fifth floor above.
“I thought I might try --,” I was a little surprised that he caught me so early.
“Mr. Hutchinson gave me directions to your place, instead I’ll pick you up. “ Sam paused to clear his voice. “How about I pick you up at five?” 

       He knew this would irritate any woman with such a short notice. I paused just long enough to think; a shower, the low cut crush velvet blouse, skirt or jeans – my blue Rocky Jeans would be just right and make-up, I could do it -- would be just a little rushed. I hate being surprised.
“Sure, Sam, five o’clock. I’ll be looking for you.” The phone chopped off as I slammed the gas pedal watching my tachometer hit 2500 and moved closer to my desired encounter. Sam had to have sensed my irritated voice but the call ended abruptly.

       Seventeen minutes later I pulled into the cobble stone circular driveway, even the rap-rap-rap of the tires was getting under my skin. The front door slammed behind me while I rushed upstairs, peeling my beige blouse off and exposing the lacy 38 C Balconette bra that could arouse any man’s dreams. Shower first, but no – let’s place the blouse and jeans out first, I thought as if I was talking with my best friend, Jenny. I precisely placed the Rocky jeans and blouse as if someone was lying on the bed, then grabbing another Balconnette bra, a red one with matching thongs. The shower was settling my nerves as the medium hot liquid beaded just below the tan line and slowly drenched my entire body. 

       “Damn,” I yelled out loud, reaching for Norelco waterless shaver. I was not going on this date with embarrassing nubs on these beautiful legs. Twenty-two minutes later, Rocky jeans, blouse and everything but the make-up was precisely in place. Some nice red miniature seashell earrings went well with my blouse. 
The last of rose tinted blush highlighted my high cheekbones and as few tunes of a horn was echoing through the hallways. I flew down the stairs twisting a few times with thoughts of Sam’s party swimming through my mind.  I saw myself twirling like a ballerina twisting between the many guests at Sam's party. My pleasure would only be stopped to plant a friendly kiss on the chosen few as I edged closer toward Sam. Then a horn blared one more time disturbing my daydream. The Cherry Walnut door opened to view a metallic Jaguar, the sun mirrored off the shiny hood with the passenger door politely summoning me to his car.
“Very Stunning, Danielle, you look beautiful!” His eyes darted gently towards the low cut blouse then back into a full eye contact as if I wouldn’t have noticed the break in concentration.
“Thank you, Sam,” I acknowledged. I planted a friendly kiss on the cheek as his hand softly guided my body in to the passenger seat. I was glad I chose the Rocky jeans and low pumps. I could not help but admiring his casual beige canvas Dockers with a matching Signature Polo shirt. I hated it but I’m always intuitively checking out the men by their clothes.

“How far is it to your home,” I questioned while the Jaguar moved quickly into traffic.
“Oh, let’s see, take I 95, its about 7 hours.” He knew this would rock my boat just enough and added, “I thought about flying us down to Virginia Beach, its only an hour and twenty minutes to my beach house.”