Quite anxious to get an early start in the morning, Samitra had drafted her change of plans that evening to supersede tomorrow's scheduled routine at her studio.
Upon rising, she had placed her Blackberry in her purse from tempting her to check emails, and had gone directly into her shower.
While soaping her naked body into a sudsy frenzy, thoughts of Max had slowly seeped into her conscious mind.
She had felt uncomfortable that this had occurred during her shower while her nipples had grown sensitive to her touch from her soapy application.
When thoughts of Max had continued to evolve, she had quickly doused herself with high pressure cold water to remove him from her mind.
It was habitual routine for her to arrive at the salon earlier than her employees, and the last to leave.
Another one of her disciplined mottos in business life was that if you had arrived on time, you were too late. That practice had rewarded her many times over, proving to be an advantage to getting ahead.
She had checked that day's appointments to find the right time to have an emergency meeting with her staff, promptly scheduled in an early lunch hour, and had left a phone message with a nearby Deli to have food and drinks delivered to her studio.
Before the noon time rush hour began, she had quickly gathered all her employees together before any interruptions occurred, and had prepared two employees to handle customer walk-ins should they arrive during their meeting.
She had talked while they ate, and had briefly informed her staff that she would be scheduling a business lunch with Max to address any rumors they had heard, and to settle any unrest that hearsay may have caused.
She also had assured her employees that when the proper time came to sell her business, they would have first option to decline a personal offer to buy.
Samitra concluded her meeting by thanking everyone for their efforts and support, for having treated her business as their own, for achieving the end result of enriching their own pockets, as well that of her company.
With great confidence she had caught Max by surprise when she had called to schedule a business lunch with him.
Silent at first, he had nano-second, god-speed-thoughts, that the road ahead he had schemed to pave, was finally under construction.
He had greeted her with great enthusiasm preferring a dinner date in lieu of lunch hour traffic.
She had quickly apologized that her evening schedule would not accommodate changes on such short notice, and he had gladly accepted her terms.
All business matters had poured away from his mind for a private moment. He had reclined for a moment in his high-back chair and began to day-dream.
Max had been hoping that once again she would be dressed in a thigh-length skirt allowing him to view her killer-legs.
Although he was attracted to nice buns, sexy buns, and cute buns, Samitra had always donned conservative pants with wide pant-legs, and he had been unable to get a good look at the contour of her hot cheeks as they molded into her outlined thighs, and beautiful legs.
Max had always been a suave director of first impressions in business or pleasure when meeting with people, but Samitra had not been easy to impress.
In the past, she had only business on her mind; it appeared this was true with Max also, but more and more, thoughts of pleasure had begun to interfere.
She had become a part of his daily day-dreams, growing consistently in his subconscious since the first day he had laid eyes on her, and later, she had flowered into fruition subduing his conscious mind.
Now they were about to meet, albeit a business lunch, he had displayed nervous excitement.
Samitra had reserved a quiet area in one of her favorite restaurants. An area that was generally not open for use until the attending host required it to accommodate more patrons.
She has been sitting at the table when he had entered the restaurant and had asked for her table.
At first glance, he had not been unable to determine if she had worn a skirted outfit as he had hoped.
Cordial Samitra had welcomed him, and had graced him with a sparkling smile while having extended him a greeting hand without standing.
Max was enraptured to have held her hand again.
In his usual eloquence, he had expressed his greeting, "Samitra, I know this is a business lunch, but I find myself speechless. You're so much prettier today than when I first met you."
Samitra had replied kindly with a smile in jest, "Thank you Max. Yes! You should be speechless; after all, I have invited you to do all the listening!"
Max had smiled in silence.
"You're exceptionally kind Max, and I am sure you're busy too, so may we promptly get down to business?"
"Oh yes, by all means." replied Max.
They began by ordering lunch, eating, and exchanging small talk while they gauged each other's body movements, gestures, statements and wit.
Samitra mentioned that she had heard rumors of his pending interest to buy into her business and asked him if the rumors had been true.
She had added, "Like you Max, I go right to the source, all the way to the top when I need answers."
With a charming smile, he had confessed that he had mentioned it once or twice during his salon appointments, and had stated, "Simply speculating Samitra."
She had retorted, "Why speculate? We either do or we don't."
Max with raised eyebrows had replied, "Would you accept my interest to do so?"
Samitra responded, "Why don't we meet in your conference room to discuss the details and we'll put a plan together for our attorney's to review."
Max had opened both of his hands, palms up, and looked into her eyes sheepishly, "As you wish."
Samitra concluded, "Done!"
"Ah yes!" He had exclaimed in a surprised reassuring fashion. "It's true what people say about you."
"Oh?" Samitra questioned.
"I've heard that you don't mince words and you always get straight to the point which is commendable."
"Thank you again Max. I really need to get back to the salon, I'm sorry."
"Oh! Just one more thing pleaded Max, "Do you have a nickname? I'm just curious."
An uncomfortable pause ensued.
"Yes, I do, but only a few of my closest friends call me by my nickname."
"Well . . . hmmm . . . ahem . . . buying into your business does not qualify me?"
A long silent moment had occurred while Samitra had grinned and looked deep into his eyes with a questioning, doubtful expression.
"Do YOU have another name people refer to you besides Max?"
Both had clever negotiating skills. Max was well versed in business, and Samitra since an early age had assisted her parents in bazaars back home whereas bargaining had become second nature to her.
At the instance, they both had recognized they were at an impasse.
Total silence occurred as they both stared at each other with poker faces.
They both had like minds, knowing whoever spoke first would lose.
Samitra had lowered her chin keeping her eyes glued to his, and Max raised his chin in deadly silence piercing his eyes through her.
Max had taken a napkin from the table, and had reached for his pen from his coat pocket. He had scribbled on the napkin and then slid it towards Samitra.
She read his note; Sometimes one must lose in order to win.
She had opened her hand to receive his pen and had written in return on the same napkin forwarding it back to Max.
He had picked up the napkin to focus in on her message: It is SAMI.
He then realized that by the way she had emphasized her name, she was a tough cookie.
Max had written back and had placed the napkin directly in her hand.
She had silently read his message without expression: Maximilian. Now you know my true name.
Samitra had given him a big smile, the third he had ever received from her. With it, he now had the knowledge, that she had recognized, that he had successfully achieved a milestone endeavor.
Samitra had displayed a gleam in her eyes so bright that she could have welded two metal plates together.
"I like that name. Maximilian," she said, adding further jesting comments.
"No matter how I spell it, no matter how I say it, it exemplifies abundance. I absolutely love it!"
She had felt she was beginning to lose a sense of herself and recalled a personal rule to never to let her opponent see or know her weaknesses. This included a public display of emotion.
Samitra had picked up her purse by the straps signaling her time with Max had ended, and she would be leaving for the salon.
They had faced one another, and she had extended her hand to greet his exchanging farewell.
Just as she had turned her back on him to walk away, he had mentioned his scheduled appointment for Saturday at noon.
"I'll be there Saturday for my first Tantra session."
Samitra's heart had felt like it had squeezed every ounce of blood from its chambers throughout her entire body while gushing adrenaline at the speed of light.
Samitra, being the only available, and qualified Tantra therapist in her studio, provided Tantric massages to females only.
Max had foolishly assumed that she would personally be the accommodating therapist at his appointment, but she had planned otherwise.
To Be Continued In Parts.
Submitted by Sami 12/23/10
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