Chapter 1- Life in High Gear(2nd rev)

Chapter 1

“So what’s really the point of marriage?”

Georgia Bains wasn’t quite sure why she asked the question. Her mind had gone into the hypnotic trance it normally did during her commute and the thought just happened to surface like a whale for air. The stunning reality of her revelation forced her to the side of the road. Her wedding was four months away. She’d always been accused of being a hopeless romantic. Fantasies of fiftieth anniversaries and happily ever after normally occupied her thought, so why the hesitation now?

Her two-carat princess cut engagement ring glittered in the hot July sun. Looking past the shimmering rock and gold band, she realized her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. She dropped her hands to her lap and let out a long sigh, flexing her fingers to relieve the tension.

Matt was a dream come true she’d thought, and she felt they’d done everything right. I was what she’d wanted, hoped for and dreamed of most of her adult life. Now, sitting on the side of the road, the warm breeze of passing cars floating her long curly red hair about her face and neck, the ring felt more like a damnation than a reprieve from a life of spinsterhood.

Matt had slipped the ring on her hand during a sunset at his favorite restaurant. A shudder of fear that ripped through her body interrupting the memory. She ran a hand through her hair and took another deep breath putting her Jetta in park. Their two-bedroom town home was just over a mile away. It was more than they needed, and more than she really wanted to pay for a town home, but Matt had assured her that it would be perfect and convenient to both of their jobs, not to mention the envy of their friends.

Her watch read ten after five, Georgia muttered an expletive and put the car back in gear. She was running late, they had dinner plans with a married couple from matt’s work, the same they did every Thursday night. What was the point of it anyway? They already lived together, shared a bed and town home payment. What was going to change? They would have a piece of paper saying they were to spend the rest of their lives together and if they didn’t it would take a whole ton of money to leave.

Getting home she got straight in the shower, pulling her hair into a ponytail. The hot water eased the tense feeling out of her body. It had to be cold feet. They had a caterer, a string quartet and a banquet hall everything was in place. The front door opened and shut. Matt would be out there, ready to go as always, steady as the onset of time. She got out of the shower and stepped in front of a stainless steel framed mirror over the black granite vanity top a striking contrast to the optic white walls. The only noise was the exhaust fan. With her thirty second birthday would be in two weeks so she took a few moments to take inventory on her being. Her body was still slim, thought not perfect by tabloid standards, she’d gained about five pounds from her office job and it seemed to accumulate in her rear, but it suited her well and filled our her slim figure. Her face had lost the chubbiness of her youth and her cheeks had slimmed to smooth plains and matured her look. A few fine lines had developed around her eyes from smiling so she really didn’t count those as a bad thing. Her breast were still firm, there were days she didn’t feel a pressing need for a bra, and her stomach still flat. “Not a traffic stopper,” she muttered to her self, “but you’re still a decent looking girl Bains.”

Tapping at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“You Okay?” Matt asked through the door.

“Fine,” she said, taking her hair down and fluffing it a bit. Why not shake things up a bit. Do something different, spontaneous. She draped her towel around her body and opened the door prepared to give Matt her most alluring look. Their sex life was satisfying; nothing out of the ordinary, nothing exciting, just satisfying; there were times she wished it could be more spontaneous, a little racy, but that just wasn’t Matt. Her hands shook for a brief moment as she pulled opened the door; he was standing there, handsome and calm, hand resting on the door trim, his blue eyes surprised when her gaze met his.

“What are you doing?” he asked when she reached up and started to run her free hand through his blond hair.

“We can be a little late can’t we?” She pleaded pulling him down to her. He was taller, than her 5’11” frame, close to a monster of a man that had to duck slightly through doorways. She met his mouth half way and ran her tongue over his bottom lip wanting him to open his mouth.

“We have reservations at 6:30,” he said pulling away.

“Brad and Jessica are always on time,” she reasoned, fast becoming annoyed that he was foiling her seduction, “they’ll be there and get our table.”

“We’re never late either. I don’t think we should start.”

“You’re more concerned about an expensive Italian dinner, rather than making a satisfying meal of this?” Resigning to the most drastic move she could think of her hands dropped her towel and boldly drew his smooth hand to the bare flesh of her hips. He smiled at her flashing bright recently laser whitened teeth, while he repositioned his hand to a less sexual position on her shoulder.

“We won’t have much time to really do it right,” he finally said. “Why don’t we wait until after dinner like we always do?”

She was on the verge of doing something outrageous and sluttish. When he pulled away asking her to “Please get ready,” her hand was already on the way to the fly of his Docker Pants. It left her grabbing at air, her intention to have hand full of something a bit more firm.

Their bedroom was across the hall. A California King occupied the most space in the room, draped in a rich maroon coverlet that contrasted the soft beige walls. A French door lead to the balcony on the right of the bed and they were lucky enough to get a corner unit with a few more windows. Walking into the closet at the end of the bed she surveyed her wardrobe. A very conservative pair of grey slacks and a bias cut white blouse hung next to the door for her to wear tonight. Matt generally picked her clothes for their evenings out, but since her attempt at seducing him from the norm failed, and was still fresh in her mind a feeling of resentment made her by pass his pick and go with something a bit more her. She quickly rooted through the closet and found a grey mini-skirt and a bright blue tight fitting cashmere tank top he couldn’t stand, a pair of black high heel sandals completed her ensemble. Looking herself over in the full-length mirror hanging on her door, a smile curved her lips. A definitely different, racy look, but the perfect clothes to fit her uncertain mood.. She put on a touch of red lipstick, eyeliner and mascara then walked out to the living room.

“Ready?” she asked nonchalantly, knowing Matthew would be a bit shocked to see her dressed that way, but being the passive aggressive type would bitch about it later than confronting her now.

“Are you alright?” Matt asked when she pulled small gold hoop earrings out of her purse and put them on.

“I’m fine, just in a different kind of mood today.” Georgia grabbed her evening purse and started transferring money and credit cards. “A bit daring I guess,” she closed it up. “My skirt doesn’t turn you on?” she smiled.

“Is the stress starting to get to you? The wedding is only four months away.”

She hoped he didn’t see her physically wince at the word “wedding”. She didn’t want him to know what was wrong until she really understood it herself. “I know it’s only four months away and no, I’m just in the mood for something a little different that’s all.” He gave her a confused look then glance at his watch.

“We’d better go. We’ll take my Beemer.”

On the way to dinner, Georgia tried to fill the silence with a classic rock station. Matt quickly turned down Van Halen to a more acceptable level rather than the blaring ear tickling way it was intended.

“I don’t think they had ‘easy listening’ volume in mind when they recorded Hot for Teacher,” she said.

“What’s with you tonight? Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She sighed and rolled down her window despite the air conditioning, extending her arm out into the hot evening air as Matt started the window back up.

“I have the air on. You’re killing my gas mileage.”

“It’s a beautiful evening,” she countered, “indulge me tonight please.” Giving him her best pleading smile worked and he let her win this small battle.

They pulled up to a light and she laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. They caught this light every Thursday night and it took an eternity to change. Counting backward in her head 3…2…1…Matt came in right on cue. “This light is so long,” she mouthed along with him, “and we’re running late…”

She tuned him out; relaxing staring out the window. They were alone at the light, which was unusual for the time of night. She started to turn back to Matt to re-evaluate her feelings when she heard the loud rumble of a fine tuned exhaust.

It rattled the stable body of Matt’s BMW. Smooth curvy and deep candy apple red painted over sliver flake. It wasn’t the exact same car but the same year, same model, same bumblebee stripe. Her mind flooded with images of her youth, her uncle drove the same ‘68 Camaro. Running her gaze up the length of the car the heat radiating off the engine, she felt a slight tingle in her stomach. The gaze of the driver, cool brown eyes, tan skin, and dark hair, met her own, a muscular arm draped over the window opening. Her tension racked body reacted instantly to his cool gaze. He didn’t break the stare or say anything, but she felt a heat grow in her belly and the uneasiness and pressure that had over taken her body shattered. “Big block?” she asked raising her voice over the engine never leaving his eyes.

He nodded slightly and grinned, “It’s not the only thing that’s big.” He winked as the light changed and took off in a cloud of smoke and screaming tires.

“I can guarantee it’s not his brain,” Matt mocked.

She was too busy still smiling out the window to acknowledge him. Her sensed were flooded with the acrid scent of burning rubber and the distinctive smell of CAM2 exhaust. Where were the men like that when she was single?