New Neighbor Pt. 01

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The story is entirely fictional. Any similarities to real people or events are purely coincidental. I put this in the ‘Erotic Couplings’ category, but it could be under ‘Exhibitionist wood, leather, art, and of course books. It reminds me of him.”


“Yes, I guess you don’t know. Bernard was my husband. He died a few years ago.”

I was a bit shocked, and I’m sure I looked confused. “What happened?”

For the first time, I saw her look a bit sad and distant.

“We’re going to need that wine to get through this story,” she said. “Wait here.”

I wish I hadn’t asked about Bernard. It wasn’t my place to ask, but since she mentioned him, I was curious.

Laura came back to the den with the bottle of wine I brought, two glasses and a corkscrew. She handed me the bottle to open and sat next to me. I poured us each a glass.

“Bernard died in a car crash almost 3 years ago. He was driving home, after picking up a new sports car he had ordered six months earlier. It was a rainy night, but he really wanted that damn car. He had the dealer stay late, so he could pick it up.”

She took a big gulp of her wine.

“On his way home, a man ran a red light at high speed and hit the driver’s door. They both were killed instantly,” she said.

I could tell she was fighting back tears and said, “I’m so sorry. We don’t need to talk about this.”

“No. It’s OK. It somehow helps me to talk to people about it, if it’s alright with you.”

“Whatever you need,” John said.

She finished her glass of wine and I poured us both another.

“After he died, I felt lost. I just couldn’t see my future alone. After about 6 months of loneliness and self-pity, I realized that I needed to move on with my life.”

She poured herself another glass of wine finishing off the bottle.

“I surrounded myself with the few friends I had. We’d had only been married for a couple of years Sincan Escort before he died and I really didn’t know his friends well. I still kept up with a few friends from college and my modeling days, before I met Bernard. I’ve stayed close with some of them so I haven’t been completely alone.”

“My girlfriends are the ones who talked me into building this house, getting me away from the house that we shared. They wanted me to have a place where I could entertain, meet new people and be happy. They want to set me up if some of their male friends, but I don’t want to go through the agony of blind dates.”

“I don’t know about you, but I need some more wine,” she said and headed off to the kitchen. She came back with a new bottle, downed the last of hers and refilled both our glasses.

“How did you and Bernard meet?” I asked.

After a big sip of wine, she said, “I went to college for a liberal arts degree and ended up getting a Masters in Art History. I was very lucky and found a job at a large museum as soon as I graduated. Shortly after I started, they got a call from a man who was interested in investing in 20th-century art. That was my area of expertise, so they asked me to meet with him. After our meeting, he hired me away from the museum to help him collect high-quality art that would go up in value. That man was Bernard. We had to work around his schedule, which meant many late nights. There was also a lot of travel. We went all over the world to look at pieces and to attend auctions. Fortunately, he had a private jet.”

“We were attracted to each other almost immediately. He recognized my intelligence, talent, and passion for the work, something he admired, and I was attracted to him because of his boundless energy, intellect, charisma and love of life.”

“That attraction and spending late nights together led to us becoming lovers and then getting married. We’d only known each other for Ankara Olgun Escort about 6 months. I knew he loved me and I loved him but there were some problems, too.” She took another drink.

“Enough about me. Tell me about yourself. How’d you end up here?” she asked after a big gulp of wine and refilling her glass.

“I guess, I’m a nerd,” I said. “I was always good at math and started working with computers when I was about ten. School was always easy and fun for me so I spent most of junior high and high school studying and working with computers.”

“Did all the nerds in your High School look like you?” she asked.

“Well, no. My father was a photographer by trade, but his passion was running. He ran marathons, and I started running with him when I was young. I got so fast, I ran track in high school.”

“I bet the girls were running after you.”

“I guess, but between being shy, running, and studying, I didn’t go out very much.”

“I got early admissions at MIT. Once I got there, I discovered that everyone was just as smart or smarter than I was.”

“For the first time I had to work hard in school, so I never had much time for dating. I was too busy with my nose in the books, working for my MBA and then my Ph.D. in math, to go out much.”

“I don’t want you to think, ‘poor John, never had any fun’. I did date some both in high school and college. I even had a few girlfriends, but they grew tired of me after a few months because I spent so much time studying and running. Or I got tired of them pulling me away from the things I liked. I went to some parties too, but I wasn’t good at socializing, so I didn’t like them much.”

“After you graduated, you must have had some fun,” Laura said as she filled her glass again.

Neither of us was feeling any pain, but Laura was a couple of glasses ahead, and I could see she was feeling pretty loose-limbed.

“You’d Ankara Ucuz Escort think so, but right out of MIT, I was recruited by Wall Street. I don’t know how much you know about the stock market, but the big firms hire math guys like me, to make a lot of money.”

“Why?” she asked, “I know nothing about Wall Street, but I would have thought they would hire broker types and train them.”

“If I explained my job to you, you’d be asleep in 2 minutes. Let’s just say that I was a Quantitative Trader or quant for short. As a quant, I could make buckets full of money on Wall Street. It was a fun, high-stakes game where money was just a way to keep score. I was very good at it. Then it became an obsession. All I did was work. There is some stock market open at any time, day or night. It was hard to quit. It’s like a drug, and sometimes I still miss the rush. I knew I had to quit, or sooner or later it was going to kill me.”

“Fortunately, I didn’t completely burn out like some did. I survived mostly because of the habits I’d picked up over the years. I kept myself fit and sane, with jogging and daily trips to the company gym. I had to, in order to work 16 hours a day. A lot of guys turned to partying and drugs.”

“Trading is still a ‘boy’s club’. The only women I knew at that time were ‘dates’, usually set up by the company, when I needed someone on my arm at some fancy event. They were more than happy to share my bed, but my heart wasn’t in it. I rarely saw them more than once.”

“Now that I’m away from Wall Street, I just don’t have many opportunities to meet nice, strong, intelligent women. I have high standards. I tried the bar and club scene for a while, but one-night stands just leave me feeling empty.”

“So, I ‘retired’, built a house here, and I’m learning how to relax and enjoy myself.”

She offers me another glass of wine, but I decline. She pours herself another.

“You live in that big house all alone?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

She looked a bit surprised and maybe a bit disappointed.

“I live with Bo. We’re inseparable. He’s a wonderful dog, a big black Lab. He pretty much goes everywhere with me.”

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