Walking down the hallway, heels echoing on the polished floor, she felt a flutter of nervous tension. She looked pretty good, she thought- she had worn 20 years and 4 kids well. A man and a woman were behind the registration table, handing out name tags. She recognized the woman- Catherine, an social butterfly and overachiever. A friend, in the loose sense that all women are friends, comrades in the ongoing battle against men.
The man was rummaging in a box, taking out more copies of the alumni newsletter, then turned to face her. It was all she could do to not pass out. He was gorgeous-model thin, but strong, with a stylish haircut, gorgeous eyes, an expensive sweater, and five hundred dollar jeans. Her knees felt a little weak, and she tried to keep her voice even as she stepped up to them, her mind filled with images of this dreamboat coming back to her hotel room tonight.
She saw the name on the man’s nametag. “Stephen HOLDEN?,” she said incredulously. She remembered him- he never took his eyes off of her, history class, junior year. He had a bowl haircut, acne, and glasses then- but look at him now. She thought about giving him tonight what he so badly wanted 20 years ago. It made her sweat. She felt her heart thump, and she held her stomach in. “Bennett,” she said weakly, “Lisa.”
“Lisa Bennett?”, he read slowly. “I don’t remember you at all.”