Second Helpings

In honor of Valentines day, a love story sans the mush. And the love...

She had it all planned.

First, she'd slip him a note in his morning newspaper.

'A surprise awaits you tonight, my darling. Hurry home. Love, A.'

He'd be excited by the prospect of an elaborately planned surprise, and he'd do exactly as the note said. During the day, she'd make herself all pretty- just for him. She'd spend hours in front of the mirror, fixing everything so that it was just the way he liked it. Her hair would be perfect, every strand in place, and it would smell like oranges in winter. He liked oranges.

She'd wear the inky blue dress she'd borrowed from Anna, positioning the slinky straps so that they'd slip off easily when the time came. And then she'd make him the perfect meal. They say oysters are an aphrodisiac...

She'd pack up the food and a bottle of 'Riesling from Alsace' in a dainty wicker basket and make her way over to his place. She'd even take a cab, lest the chilly February winds ruined her perfectly arranged auburn hair. She'd carefully step out of the cab, and then sneak in past the doorman. It didn't take much to distract him.

The elevator would ding, signalling her arrival to anyone who cared enough to listen. She would make her way over to his apartment, letting her heels sink into the plush green carpet. There was the small matter of getting into his apartment, but she'd figure something out in time. There was never a dearth of bobby-pins in her handbag, and they made it look rather easy in all the movies she'd watched with him.

Once she entered the apartment, she'd disconnect the phone. She'd then use her phone to call Anna's office; she knew exactly where she'd find his address book. She knew everything about both him and that Anna...

She'd then proceed to hide all the photographs of Anna and him, pushing them behind the oven and under the couch. She'd put up a picture, of him with her in his arms, on the wall right opposite the front door. She'd set up the dining table and then wait by the window, watching the cars whiz by on the street below.

He'd come home and be utterly shocked. He'd see all that she'd done for him and realise the error of his ways. He'd hate himself for the two years he'd lost out on. And then, he'd find her, waiting for him, and all would be well again.

Yes, he'd come back to her. She had it all planned.