ENTRY F
It was going to be one of those nights. He knew it. Over 15 years they were always the same. Why do Company Management think, that if they offer a free buffet, everyone will fall over backwards to give up a precious evening on company training. Absurd idea; so why does it always seem to work? It meant he had to not stay late in the office for once, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he managed to catch the local news. The clock chimed for half six. With time moving on, he decided he really ought to pull himself away from the Tele and change. He ran up the stairs, threw his office attire onto the wooden butler in the corner of the bedroom, showered, and paced through the dressing room for something fitting the bill ‘Smart Casual Please’.
"Annie?" he murmured, under his breath. Annie was his housekeeper. He had employed her originally as a Nanny, to help with the girls when he lost his wife. Steph and Kim had flown the nest three years ago now, but he could never find the right time, or the right words, to dispense with her services. Anyway, if he did, who would be there to enjoy the garden, the pool. No, there were good reasons for her to stay, and until there weren’t, stay she could.
Suddenly, his tone changed "Oh, Annie, you are a dear" as he quietly grinned, he had managed to easily put his hand on his most recent purchase. A purchase he only made as a token gesture; because Annie had accused him one day of ‘Letting himself go’. As he grabbed for the hanger, he noticed a pin. On the collar was a note. ‘For special occasions. To be served with a liberal helping of Calvin Klein. Annie.’ He smiled, unpinned the paper, dressed quickly and, as he left the Bedroom, remembered and grabbed for his CK One.
Leaving the house, he acknowledged how late he was now actually running. Damn, he thought, I shall miss the buffet. Really, what was the point. Still, he was ready, and out of the house; at least no pre-planning was necessary anymore for these evenings. It must be the twelfth company event at the same venue. Very early on he sussed, if he sat on the back row but one, second seat from the edge aisle, he could directly view the Bar, the comings and goings and, more importantly, the large screen TV.
Jumping into the drivers seat of his Audi, he set the CD to play Beethoven. Putting his foot down, he managed to make good time; then an accident close to the Hotel required a Sat Nav divert and suddenly any advantage was lost. He parked, and darted into Reception to dodge the drizzle. As he entered the ‘Burton Suite’ he could see the waiters talking, and rows of plates empty but for garnish. A few clean glasses seemed to be left at one end, so he swiftly moved that way, nabbed one, and poured a glass of Cabernet. He solemnly reviewed the tables, and with a private sigh, duly resigned himself to a late supper.
"1-2-3 Testing, Testing" came from the front of the room, and off he deftly went, half filled glass in hand, to assume his position.
He advanced to his chair. Bloody Cheek, it was already taken.
Two piercing blue eyes shone up, catching his. With a fragile smile, "Sorry" she said softly, " I would move, but I like to watch the Bar you see"