Romance The Key

Authors note: As very special favor for some very special friends, I've been asked to resubmit a couple of my older stories once listed under Thesandman. It is not my intention to submit all or many of my older works, but for those who have truly supported and appreciated my writing over the years, I have relented to do so. Additionally, I will not turn voting on for any of these, as they have had their moment in the sun so to speak.

But for those of you who've asked: Resubmitted

The Key

By: Thesandman/Many Feathers

Miranda Jones, a shorthaired brunette with a pixie-like face has searched all her life for the right, special someone. Little does she know that the key to that very happiness exists within a small corner shop, catering to those who collect odd items, or who enjoy browsing through antiques, most of which seemingly have no purpose.

The discovery of a tiny tarnished key barely clinging to an old worn out silver chain is about to change her life forever.

As she'd been doing nearly every Friday for the past three years, Miranda stood waiting patiently in front of the small, cozy little sidewalk café waiting for her two friends. She had known Silvia and Darlene for several years, though she considered Darlene as truly her very best friend having known one another in high school. Now at just over forty years of age, though looking much younger than that herself much to the chagrin of her two companions, Miranda spotted them on the sidewalk heading her way. She waved, watching as they spotted her waving back.

Moments later they reached her side giving one another a kiss on the cheek in greeting. "Morning M.J.!" Darlene called out smiling. She had called her that ever since high school, only then her last name had been Jenkins, not Jones. Miranda smiled to herself, wondering if Darlene would have continued calling her "M.J.", even if she hadn't gotten married to a man with the same last initial in his name.

"Hey Darlene, Sil!" Miranda answered back, abbreviating Silvia's name just as Darlene always had, something she had herself picked up on shortly after being introduced to her. Silvia and Darlene worked at the same law office, which is where they had met, soon after introducing her to Miranda where they began their weekly get-togethers at the café.

Like Salt and Pepper shakers, Miranda had often thought of her two friends in just such a way. Darlene, with a fair almost alabaster complexion, though her hair was dark, worn long and nearly coal black. Silvia on the other hand, her skin a deep rich creamy looking chocolate color, hair short, though bleached nearly a platinum blonde standing well near six feet and looking every bit the model she once had been during her teenage years.

"Shall we?" Silvia asked leading the way without waiting to be shown to a table.

Though it was mid-June, the early morning air was crisp, cool, though the sun was already promising to chase away the cold morning air with a hint of warmth already peeking through the treetops. Miranda drew the button down sweater she had worn closer about her neck though refusing to button it in an effort to ward off the chill as she followed her two companions toward their seats.

Miranda had already secured their favorite table for them upon arriving with a simple nod towards the waiter. The same pimply-faced kid that had been serving them for month's now receiving a more than generous tip for ensuring that their favorite table was 'unofficially' reserved each Friday morning whether they arrived for their morning coffee and pastries or not.

As was customary, they held off sharing any recent news or on-goings about their respective lives until after having first given their orders. When 'Chuck' finally ambled away to get their coffee's, Darlene leaned over closer towards Miranda, whispering just low enough that no one beyond Silvia sitting across from her could over hear.

"You might want to do something about dousing those head-lights M.J.," she began. "Otherwise, old Chucky-baby is apt to hang around our table all morning long!"

Miranda took a quick, very brief glance down at her chest, already knowing what to expect. She'd felt her nipples harden considerably just moments before her friend's arrival. And it hadn't been due to the chill of the morning air, though no doubt that had contributed to keeping them firm and erect afterwards. What she hadn't mentioned, and doubted that she even would, was the young handsome dark haired man that had stood to leave just as she herself had arrived. He'd done nothing more than to smile briefly, nodding towards her. But the penetrating look he had given her had been deliciously received. She'd felt her body respond of its own accord, without rhyme, without reason for it. "A simple look", she'd mused moments after he'd passed her by, not even giving her a second look until reaching the corner of the street before crossing. Only then had he looked back, caught her looking towards him and smiled once again. Miranda had felt her face flush in confused, unjustified excitement. But for the briefest of moments, time had stood still and she had found herself standing there being kissed by this strangely attractive looking man.

Miranda tugged the sweater she was wearing more firmly around herself actually doing up three of the five buttons, just enough to place enough material over her blouse and adequately hide the aroused state that her nipples were in.

Darlene was smiling. "I didn't think it was that cold!" she said with a mischievous grin. "Or do you actually have some secret fantasy you've been harboring over Chucky baby," she finished with a suggestive tease.

One of the things Miranda loved most about her dear sweet friend was her uninhibited openness, something of which she herself possessed, but usually reserved for the bedroom. Darlene on the other hand, had a suggestive charm about her nature that bordered on the extreme. She had the talent and the ability to call another woman a 'slut' to her face, and have it come off sounding like the most heartfelt compliment ever given. Most often Miranda would see her sit back, or stand there with a 'Mona Lisa' smile upon her face, as though only she knew the secret behind the comment just given. But after years of coming to know her friend as well as she had, Miranda more often than not heard the true meanings behind the words whenever Darlene delivered one of her deliciously wicked diatribes without her unsuspecting victim being any the wiser.

And not that she herself hadn't fallen victim to one or two of Darlene's naughtily wicked assaults upon her either! More than anyone, Miranda knew that she could trust Darlene implicitly with whatever secrets or thoughts she might share. No matter how decadent, or innocent they might be. It had been over two years ago that she had first confided in her friend that her sex-life had all but disappeared. She and her husband had not been intimate in all that time, a situation that had gradually gotten worse though she'd made every effort imaginable to correct it. Eventually, with frustration setting in, and the worry that she had perhaps failed somehow in their marriage, or worse...that perhaps her husband was off having an affair with another woman, Miranda had found herself pouring her heart out to her friend in hopes of receiving some kind of advise that would help her towards making some sort of decision.

And though Darlene had in fact counseled her, giving Miranda a wide variety of options and choices to think about, she'd added one more little option in the manner that Miranda should have known better, and been on guard about.

They had met for lunch at a posh restaurant, it had been Miranda's turn to treat, and as it was also a special occasion of sorts, the day that she and Darlene had first become friends, it was a date they yearly celebrated with a fancy dinner or lunch together. This year, it was Miranda's turn to buy.

She'd gotten up a short time previous, excusing herself to use the restroom. Unlike a lot of women, she'd not taken her purse with her into the bathroom leaving it comfortably parked on the chair between them where Darlene could stand guard over it for her, though not as though she had too. Upon her return, and in preparation of retrieving her wallet, she'd fished inside her purse, discovering a long slim object that she knew full well hadn't previously been there before. Without thinking, she withdrew the devise holding it up within her hand for closer inspection, totally unaware of its true purpose or nature gazing at it curiously much to the sudden delight and laughter of her friend.

"Ah Miranda? You might want to put that back inside your purse," she suggested. "I wanted to surprise you with a little something to help you with that problem we were discussing a few days ago."

Miranda gave Darlene a questioning look, then as realization began to dawn on her, she found herself blushing furiously, dropping the thin silver object onto the table where it began to hum, buzz, and bounce upon the table as though having a mind of its own. Darlene shrieked with peels of laughter, watching Miranda desperately reaching out to recapture what must have looked to many within the restaurant as a writhing snake somehow having been smuggled in and set free.

A few nearby giggles from other patrons as those who knew and were obviously well aware of what the thing was, began snickering as well. There were however a few astonished voices rising with abject indignation at the bizarre spectacle taking place.

Ever since then, Miranda had learned to be a lot more careful in the future against any more of Darlene's hidden naughty little surprises.

After receiving their coffee's and fresh pastries, the three of them had finally gotten down to business, catching one another up on the weeks events, their lives, and for desert, the latest naughty gossip, though lately, Miranda had found herself having very little to share by way of amusing antidote, most often content to add a thought here or there only in passing. She considered briefly mentioning the good looking dark haired man that had been the real cause behind her hardened nipples, deciding at the last moment not to, suddenly feeling silly about it, if not somewhat embarrassed that she could find herself so overwhelmingly aroused over hardly nothing.

"Hey! We've still got a half hour before we have to head to the office this morning," Silvia began. "There's this really neat antique shop I want to show the two of you."

Darlene balked at the thought initially; she really wasn't into collecting or browsing around through antiques. Silvia on the other hand had by in large, decorated her entire apartment in antique furniture, much of which Miranda found extremely interesting to look at and wonder about. Though she herself appreciated some of the pieces, also shying away from buying anything really antique herself.

"It's not just an antique furniture store either Darlene!" Silvia said seeing the rolled-eyed look on her friends face at the mention of it. "They've got all sorts of neat, weird looking stuff in there. Everything from books to gadgets, even toys I haven't seen anyplace else in years!"

At the mere mention of the word "books", Miranda knew Darlene was hooked. She collected first editions of anything she could get her hands on.

Miranda soon discovered that the store was less than a block away from the café. She had passed it a hundred times without once giving it a second thought, or even a second look. So often she'd gazed at the store briefly in passing, surmising it to be more, one of those palm-reader, or novelty shops rather than what the sign said as she found herself really reading it for the first time.

"Vickie's treasure chest".

Miranda followed Silvia through the small door into the shop, noticing when she did that it needed a fresh coat of paint, chipped, weather worn just as the dimly lit interior of the shop suggested upon entering. The faint sound of bells jingling to announce the arrival of customers greeting them familiarly as it took a moment or more for Miranda's eyes to adjust to the much dimmer light even at this hour of the morning.

Even with the announcement of the bells, Miranda noticed that no one stood behind the cluttered, semi-dirty counter to greet or wait on them. Silvia immediately directing Darlene over to a pile of dusty, worn looking books that rather than shelved and put on display in any semblance of order, stood stacked in haphazard piles, some toppling over onto others, many dusty with titles and covers obscured. Even so, Darlene approached them with the enthusiasm of a child discovering gifts beneath the tree on Christmas morning.

"Over here!" Silvia said leading Miranda over to one of the very few glass displays that appeared to contain the perhaps more valuable bobbles and novelties of the store. She ran her hands atop the glass, discovering the case to be unlocked, easily accessible. Almost immediately, her curiosity and interest drawn towards an antique looking hairbrush. The handle of which was either ivory or bone, many of the bristles now missing, but of note, a single strand of what appeared to be long reddish-blonde hair clinging to what remained of the bristles as though desperately willing to remain as the only surviving member to what had once been its owners gently caring hair brush.

Miranda could almost picture the image of a young woman, sitting before her vanity mirror, gently combing out her long tresses just before retiring to bed. A smile upon the woman's face as she sat brushing her hair, the thought of a young suitor perhaps, still fresh upon her mind, or perhaps the romance story she'd just finished reading, leaving her breathless with images of a romantic interlude, or some knight in shining armor sweeping her off her feet and riding off towards the sunset with her.

Next to the brush, what appeared to be a hand held mirror, though no mirror now existed within the exquisitely carved frame. The palest of tiny pink roses dancing about the framework, interleafed with what appeared to be tiny elves, or perhaps fairies of some sort. An interesting contrast as though someone had had trouble deciding which of the two was the more intricate of design.

"Wow! Look at this!" Silvia exclaimed reaching into the glass case, retrieving what appeared to be a tiny silver key attached to an old, well worn and tarnished chain. "It looks hand made!" she added after a moments fondling of the almost too tiny, too delicate key no bigger than the size of her thumbnail. Yet, molded so perfectly, so intricately with tiny carvings actually embedded within the design of the key itself.

"It is!" both Miranda and Silvia heard turning to face the strange voice that had startled them both, Silvia, nearly dropping the tiny key onto the floor, fumbling briefly with it for a moment before securing it tightly within the palm of her hand.

Miranda felt herself blushing self-consciously, wondering if they should have even been pawing around at the items within the glass enclosed display, even though it hadn't been locked.

"Beautiful little thing isn't it?" the woman asked without a hint of anger in her tone of voice, though she held out her hand towards Silvia, who promptly allowed the tiny silver key to fall from her hand into that of the proprietors.

"Sorry, ah Mrs.," Miranda stated for the both of them, even though she herself hadn't been the one holding the key.

"Cravenstance," the older looking woman replied with an awkward smile as though her name even made her grimace whenever saying it. Silvia almost laughed in spite of herself, quickly covering her mouth will the ball of her fist.

Not only did the woman have an odd sounding name, but even her features reminded them both of a stork. Nearly as thin as the bird with the same name, Mrs. Cravenstance's hair was thin, wispy and combed straight back atop of her head and slicked down with god knows what, giving her a just gotten out of the shower look.

Her nose was just as equally big, long though narrow, and pointed at the tip almost as though it had been purposely sculpted that way.

"Do you like it?" the old woman asked once again holding up the key so they could both see it.

"It is interesting," Miranda had to admit, examining the tiny charm as it hung almost dangerously from its precarious little chain swinging back and forth as though the old woman were making some attempt at hypnotizing her into buying it.

Spotting an even smaller tiny white tag attached to the chain itself, Miranda reached out towards it without thinking, as though drawn to it having actually been lulled into a hypnotic trance.

The old woman let the tiny chain and key drop into Miranda's outstretched hand. She immediately fished for the tag, turning it over and examining the simple numbers showing on the other side. She let out a surprised breath of air upon seeing the price tag.

"Wow!" Miranda stated already beginning to hand back the tiny trinket before she damaged it in anyway, having then to actually buy the piece though she found herself actually considering it. "Two hundred and fifty dollars?" she blurted out before realizing how insensitive that must have sounded to Mrs. Cravenstance. "I mean it's certainly worth it!" she amended quickly, "But my husband would kill me if he were to learn I'd spent that kind of money on something like this without first discussing it with him!"

Even that was a lie, and she knew it. She had her own personal budget that she kept for just such kind of things, though in truth, it would mean she'd have to cut back on her more expensive lunches for a couple of weeks.

By now, Silvia had managed to disengage herself from the awkwardness of the situation by pretending to browse through a selection of paintings that were again haphazardly standing along one wall.

"What would you offer for it?" the old woman asked suddenly, catching Miranda off guard.

Miranda laughed, she'd noticed the sign out front posted by the door when they first came in. "No Checks, No Credit...Cash only!"

"I'm not sure I even have fifty dollars on me at the moment anyway," she stated offhandedly, sure that the mention of whatever real cash she did have on herself would end any bartering over the piece.

"Done!" the old lady said dropping the key and chain back into the tiny box it had sat in previously before handing it over to Miranda, smiling.

Surprised, unable to even speak, Miranda quickly opened her purse fishing out the two twenties she knew she had, along with a handful of ones. "Ah...Darlene? You have a couple of dollars I can borrow?" she asked.

Darlene was already rummaging around in her own purse as she approached her friend. "Sure sweetie! What'd you buy anyway?" she asked curiously. Miranda handed her the tiny box accepting the five Darlene gave her.

Moments later, Mrs. Cravenstance came back with a few coins as her change, pressing the meager tokens into Miranda's hand. "Some believe that there is Magic in this shop. Perhaps there is. There is a little bit of everyone, of past lives, past loves that remain and continue to exist within the memories of those things we all cherished or once held dear. Perhaps you my dear, will find the happiness you seek. Let the key be your guide to unlock the secrets towards that which you have long sought after."


Before Miranda could as much as utter a single word, the old woman turned disappearing into the back room as though knowing whatever business there had been was completed. There would be no more sales from this group of women today at least.

Almost as quietly as they had all entered, they left. Miranda already fingering the tiny silver key as they hurriedly exited the store.

"Kinda spooky isn't she?" Silvia stated the moment they were out of earshot of being over heard. "It really is a neat store though, I've purchased a number of things that I've found interesting for one reason or another. I guess, they buy out old estates and such, then sell whatever they can to make a profit from what they're able to bargain the family's down for who don't have the time or patience to try and sell everything off themselves."

Miranda wasn't really listening to her friend however, but she was wondering what the old woman had meant by telling her to let the key be the guide to unlocking the secrets of her own heart. And though those might not have been the exact words, Miranda somehow felt that that was the very meaning behind what the old woman had told her.

They soon after said good-bye to one another, departing off to work and another busy day. Shortly after arriving at her own office, Miranda quickly attached the tiny silver key to the much newer, much nicer chain she was already wearing around her neck. Not too surprisingly, she caught herself gently fingering the dainty ornament several times during the day, the words turning over and over within her mind each and every time she touched it. Almost like a mantra being stated as she attempted to make sense out of the words spoken to her by the crazy, weird looking old lady.

"Let the key be your guide to unlocking the secrets of your heart!"

Over and over she repeated it to herself, surprised when she looked up to realize it was already well past quitting time. She was to meet her husband Bill at one of their favorite restaurants for dinner prior to going home. Easier that way as it was closer for each of them to do so rather than driving all the way home and then returning. Dinner reservations were for six, so she still had plenty of time as it was a reasonably short drive over. And if nothing else, she'd probably have a few minutes to spare to have a quick glass of wine at the bar while waiting for Bill to arrive. Time enough to think, wondering if she would even share the days adventure with her husband, deciding against it as she retrieved her purse heading out the door of her office.

Miranda arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes to six, plenty of time to enjoy a glass of wine while waiting for her husband to arrive. She ordered a glass of Chardonnay, reaching into her purse only then realizing she didn't have a damn dime to her name! She'd spent every cent of cash she'd had on herself for the key, which even now she reached up to finger without thinking. She could certainly put the drink on her credit card, but she felt foolish in having to do so. Bill would no doubt question the minor charge when they worked through the bills together. And though he would care less if she'd spent her money on the tiny silver key, he would in fact raise some objection to her being so frivolous with their credit card.

The bartender stood waiting patiently. Miranda felt her face flush with embarrassment, as the indecision of what to do seemed to take on a life of its own. She started to push the untouched wine glass back towards the bartender when she heard the sound of a man's voice just behind her, simultaneously catching movement just out of the corner of her eye as he began to seat himself down next to her.

"Let me get that," he'd said. "And I'll have one of the same," he added immediately.

Miranda was now even more confused than she'd been a moment earlier. She didn't know whether to thank this strange man profusely, or to act indignant and decline the already purchased drink as she'd seen a twenty dollar bill thrown down onto the counter top, the bartender immediately swiping it up as though knowing Miranda might very well decline the man's offer. She turned to face towards him, still undecided as to what her reaction would be, when she all but swallowed her tongue.

"Hello again!" The dark handsome looking guy sitting next to her said smiling. It was the same man Miranda had briefly shared a look with earlier that morning.

"Brad Edwards," he stated still smiling, extending his hand out towards her in a more official greeting. "Thought I recognized you from earlier this morning, wanted to at least introduce myself, and offer to buy you a drink as it was obvious you'd either misplaced your wallet, or something else had happened to it," he continued now showing a look of real concern on his face for the loss of whatever money she might indeed once had with her.

He pointed back over his shoulder near the door. "I'd just come in, thought I'd recognized you like I said, when I realized by your look as you fished through your purse that something was wrong. Thought I'd put on my suit of armor and come over and rescue the damsel in distress."

Miranda grinned in spite of herself. "Thank you," she said demurely. "I really appreciate that."

"Would you care to join me for dinner?" he questioned next.

For the briefest of moments, she actually entertained the idea. "Actually, my..."

Her cell phone rang interrupting what she was just about to tell him.

"Excuse me," she said feeling herself blushing all over again as she reached for her purse, feeling extremely awkward. To her surprise, she saw Brad stand pointing towards the restrooms with a boyish grin on his face. She answered, saying hello before covering the mouthpiece with her hand, nodding in understanding towards him before turning her attention back to the call.

"Miranda?" she heard Bill asking in what was an obvious exasperated tone of voice. Obviously, he'd already questioned if she was there.

"I'm here!" she said just a bit too cheerfully.

"Listen, I'm sorry but the meetings still going on, looks like I'll be stuck here at least another hour, perhaps even two. Why don't you go ahead and have dinner without me? If I can, I'll try and make it for desert. But if I'm not there in say an hour and a half, I'll just meet you at home ok?"

Miranda heard herself sigh into the phone. She really had been looking forward to dinner, her appetite ravenous, as she'd been considering one of her favorite dishes all day. "Well ok, but I doubt I'll stick around for desert," she stated letting him know in so doing that she wasn't real happy with being stood up.

"Probably a good idea if we just meet up at home then," he told her simply. "I'll grab something to eat on my way home. See you later." And with that, Bill clicked off without waiting for any kind of a response from his wife. Miranda sat staring at her phone momentarily, irritated though she couldn't quite put her finger on why she was as upset as she was. Bill was after all a very good provider and had given her just about everything she could ever want. Financial security, a nice home...everything but intimacy and romance. In that department, Bill had failed miserably.

Miranda had no sooner finished putting her cell phone back inside her purse when she saw Brad's approach, still smiling at her with that boyish grin. She couldn't help but smile back at him.

"So? Interested in getting something to eat?" he asked her once again.

This time, she barely hesitated. "Sure...why not?"

Gathering fresh drinks, they were soon seated to a cozy little corner booth, semi-circular facing out towards the rest of the diners, yet far enough away to provide them some measure of intimate privacy as well as being sufficiently secluded from the nearest seated table to ensure their conversation wouldn't be overheard either.

"You know, I still don't know your name yet," he began repositioning himself slightly a tad-bit closer to her without closing the distance too much between them to make her feel crowded or uncomfortable.

She laughed, "Miranda..." Miranda caught herself, she'd decided against giving him her last name, leaving it with giving Brad only her first for the moment. He sensed her uneasiness picking up one of the menus that lay on the table in front of them.

"What's good here anyway? First time I've ever decided to stay here for dinner," Brad told her.

"Guess it depends on what you want to spend," she said casually eyeing her own menu now, glad for the awkward reprieve she'd been given. Glancing over the menu herself, she once again realized that this time she would have to put the expense on her credit card, but under the circumstances, Bill wouldn't dare question her on it as he'd basically stood her up for their planned dinner.

"I rarely concern myself with the prices," he said simply without even glancing up towards her. "Feel free to chose whatever it is you'd like to eat," he added only then looking up towards her expectantly.

"Dutch!" Miranda smiled back.

Brad shook his head no. "I asked you to have dinner with me, you accepted, so it's my treat. So...order whatever it is that you'd like. How's the Salmon here anyway?" once again glancing back down towards the menu.

"It's good, matter of fact, I was thinking about ordering that myself."

Their waiter appeared as though on cue, filling their water glasses. "Are we ready to order yet?" he asked them.

They spent the next twenty minutes while eating their salads, enjoying small talk, discussing the freakish windstorm that had blown through the city days earlier, and very little about themselves. As they spoke, Miranda noticed Brad politely toying with his miniature tomatoes, pushing them nonchalantly off to one side of his plate.

"I take it you don't care for tomatoes?" she asked having already consumed both of her own.

"Not really, no." he said surprising her as he then forked one of the small morsels holding his fork up towards her. Miranda surprised herself, opening her mouth just wide enough to accept the proffered enticement allowing Brad to slip it easily inside her mouth where she took it, feeling the fork withdraw slowly as Brad pulled it away. It was a simple act, but a personal one especially under the circumstances. Miranda felt the heat rise to her face almost guiltily as she politely began chewing the succulent fruit.

She noticed that Brad had somehow managed to scoot even closer to her having performed this particular feat without her really knowing it. She felt only the briefest of contact between their legs, hardly noticeable, and so inconsequential that she felt neither alarmed nor uncomfortable by the sudden sharing of her space. If anything, that physical touch between them sent signals that suddenly made her glad she'd worn pantyhose beneath her skirt though that was all she was wearing.

Miranda lifted her napkin in order to wipe the corner of her mouth, feeling as she did the slightest additional touch of Brad's fingernail against her neck as he caught, then lifted the tiny silver key.

"That's an interesting little piece," he told her. "Very delicate, very beautiful, just as it's wearer is."

Once again, that barest of touches sent an electrical shock coursing through her entire being. She was surprised at the intensity of it, feeling her nipples actually harden with announced anticipation, additionally thankful that she'd worn her business jacket though she knew the slightest move one way or the other would most likely reveal the presence of one or the other of her large extended nubbins.

"Thank you, I just purchased it today," she stated.

Though Miranda leaned back ever so slightly, breaking the contact with his fingertip, she did not however scoot away from him on the seat. She knew that to do so would send him a message, and one she wasn't sure she wanted to send him, though cautious enough in having leaned slightly away to let him know that her intent was to be cautious, and move slowly here.

Their waiter arrived with the main course, already beginning to clear away their salad dishes. As he began, Miranda felt Brad shift once again, only this time, instead of closer to her if that were even possible, he moved away slightly. She found herself suddenly disappointed, amazed she would feel so even though the distance between them was still a lot closer than most anyone else seated around the establishment. Nevertheless, Miranda felt a pang of loss, silly that she would feel such a thing over so simple of a movement.

As the waiter retrieved Brad's salad dish, Miranda spotted the lone single tomato as it threatened to roll off the plate and onto the table. On impulse, she gathered up her fork. "Wait!" she actually exclaimed, spearing the tiny red ball retrieving it, noticing as she did the approved, playful expression spreading across Brad's face.

"I was going to ask if you'd like the other one, but I didn't want to push things," he told her, telling her in a unique way that this wasn't really all about the tomato.

She could only smile, nodding to the waiter that he could finish as she drew the tasty delicacy off the fork with her lips, doing so a lot slower than she might do otherwise, enjoying the amused expression on Brad's face as he watched her. Even the waiter paused, suddenly as caught up in this sensual moment as Brad had been. Only when it became too obvious that the waiter was actually staring at her did he suddenly turn, nearly tumbling their empty plates onto the tray, recovering just enough to smoothly begin serving them their main course.

After their waiter had left, Brad laughed.

"What?" Miranda asked knowing full well what had just happened here between them.

Brad shook his head slightly from side to side already beginning to sever a small morsel of his Salmon with a knife. Miranda began doing the same, shifting her position slightly as she prepared to attack her dinner, and found herself closing the gap between them as once again the contact between her thigh and his was accomplished. She felt a subtle movement from him, though rather than shifting away, he seemed to press gingerly against her in eager welcome, just enough to signal her that he liked the now more permanent contact, as did she.

Unlike before, they now sat eating in near silence more formally enjoying their dinner though occasionally smiling at one another with their eyes. The periodic shifts of their bodies while they ate a constant reminder of one another's presence, an ongoing form of semi-innocent foreplay that was still having every bit as much the same affect as had he been intimately touching or caressing her.

Miranda reached towards her wine glass, feeling her napkin suddenly slide from her lap onto the floor. She made an attempt to retrieve it, too late.

"Allow me," Brad said hunching over slightly as he extended his arm beneath the table. But rather than giving it back to her, he wadded the discarded item into a ball setting it down on the far corner, catching the eye of a passing waiter as he did. "Would you get a fresh napkin for the lady?" he asked, "and two more glasses of wine too please."

This bit of chivalry not only pleased, but flattered Miranda immensely. She felt her cheeks redden once again, returning to her dinner, forgetting momentarily she no longer had a napkin within her lap automatically reaching to find it, and finding instead the hard firm muscle of Brad's thigh as her hand briefly came into contact with it. He neither reacted one way or the other, and to her own surprise, Miranda allowed her hand to linger a moment longer actually giving him an affectionate squeeze.

"Thank you," she told him, only then retrieving her hand as though it had been her intent to have touched, while thanking him in this way all along.

To her immediate surprise, she found her mind wandering, time suddenly standing still as she imagined, wondering the distance where her hand had so briefly rested, and to where his maleness obviously sat. As aroused, as wet as she found herself, she wondered too if he was as aroused as she, and upon closing that small distance, would she have indeed discovered his excitement? "Was he?" she found herself actually thinking.

Miranda felt a small droplet of perspiration gather between her breasts. "Whew! It's a little hot in here don't you think?" she questioned suddenly. Miranda wasn't exactly sweating profusely here, but she knew that if she continued to sit there even wearing her lightweight jacket, she would be.

"I was about to mention the same thing myself," Brad responded. "Would you like me to help you with your jacket?" he asked, already reaching over towards her where she again shifted, this time facing away slightly as he helped her in its removal. "Better?"

"Oh yes, much!" she grinned settling back into her seat as Brad reached around her shoulders gently placing her jacket over the head rest of their booth safely out of the way, yet leaning so close to her that she could almost taste him, let alone finding her head swimming dizzily in the subtle fragrance of his cologne.

Once again she felt the heat spread between her legs, the additional flow of wanton excitement, knowing full well that her now exposed nipples were no doubt pressing anxiously against the thin material of her blouse.

No one but perhaps her best friend Darlene knew of the Sultry, Wanton, Vixen that hid herself just below the surface. Whenever she was in public, Miranda was for the most part shy and somewhat reserved, certainly never a hint of the hot, erotic sensual woman that enjoyed being set free once in a while to explore and so openly enjoy herself. Even her friend Silvia was unaware of some of the things Miranda allowed her imagination to periodically explore.

But she could just hear Darlene leaning over to whisper to her, "M.J., you're high beams are on honey!" she'd state with a giggle and a reassuring approval enjoying Miranda's embarrassed discomfort.

They continued on with their dinner, Miranda grateful that she'd eaten as the third and final glass of wine she'd consumed already alerting her to a giddiness that though not bordering on being really drunk in anyway, was telling her that her guard was down slightly as her normal reserved persona was being threatened by the needful emergence of the sensual woman she truly knew herself to be.

Miranda glanced at her watch. They'd been there well over an hour. And though the likelihood of her husband now arriving to join her was remote, the thought of that mere possibility sent a slight panic through her mind, chasing away that light-headedness and reminding her that she was treading on very dangerous thin ice here.

"I really should be going," she announced abruptly. "My husband will be waiting for me." Miranda turned retrieving her jacket. "There, I said it," she told herself. "Now he knows for certain I am married," though she'd made no movement nor attempt to hide the wedding rings she'd been wearing all night either.

Brad had already received the check having passed on dessert. She'd watched as he'd almost secretly folded a number of bills inside the black leather folder he'd been given with an itemized display of their dinner and drinks. Brad had only briefly glanced at it before inserting their payment, obviously having included a sizeable tip from which he neither expected nor wanted a return of change.

"Where's your car?" he asked helping her back on with her jacket.

"Oh, it's just around the corner," she announced. "Not far, so there's no need to worry about me."

He gave her a puzzled look. "You really don't expect me not to escort you do you?" he stated incredulously. "Even though this is a nice neighborhood and all, there's still one or two creeps that could be lurking about out there you know. I'll see you safely to your car!" It wasn't a request. Miranda actually smiled at his offer, silently accepting it as they walked from the restaurant out onto the sidewalk heading off towards her car. When he took hold of her hand, she allowed it, accepting the warmth and firmness of him as her own fingers interlocked deliciously with his.

It really was a short walk as they arrived at the parking lot where her car was. "Over here," she announced now leading the way. Using her key to unlock the door electronically, the familiar 'beep' reached both their ears several steps away from actually arriving by its side. "Well, this is me," Miranda stated opening the car door, feeling a bit more awkward now and unsure of herself, or the situation.

"Listen, I won't ask you for your number," he began. But she watched as he fished a piece of paper from his pocket that he'd obviously already written his own number down on. It was apparent he'd done so while she'd excused herself to use the restroom shortly after finishing dinner. "I hope...you really will call me. Perhaps we can have lunch, or maybe share a cup of coffee together at the café," he said reminding her of their first meeting.​