Sally's Scandal

by Azlan Adnan
A short story inspired by Shahriza Nor Hosni

It was a Tuesday evening in late November when I first set eyes on
her. The committee meeting was about to commence when she breezed into
the function room at the Prince Hotel. Our eyes met and I was
love-struck. Her eyes had spoken to me in a way words can never equal.
Through the placid pools of her limpid eyes I had a glimpse into her
very soul.

She sat down next to me, to my right. I noticed she was adorned in a
black long-sleeved figure-hugging top and beige slacks. After the
usual pleasantries, I offered to make her a cup of honey lemon tea.
She graciously accepted my offer and the rest--as they say--is
history.

She gave me her business card which spelt out her name in full but
implored I called her simply Sally. She was a marketing executive with
an event management company.

At our next meeting two days later, Sally wore a short, knee-length
black skirt which showed her lovely legs to their full advantage. She
had slender calves that looked decidedly ravishing.

Sally is petite. 45 kg or so. 5 feet 1 inch. Her body is well
proportioned--her torso is short and her legs relatively long. She
possessed lovely, pert, well-separated breasts that were neither too
large nor too small. She had broad hips for her size, which emphasized
the sexiness of her bottom, which was full, well-rounded and firm.

We had our first date--alone together at last--the following Tuesday.
It was 6.20 pm when we were driving down the road towards the traffic
lights. As we were held up in the bumper-to-bumper traffic Sally asked
me if I wasn't going to ask her if she had a boyfriend. I told her I
deduced she hasn't because if she did, she wouldn't entertain me out
of loyalty to her boyfriend. I said I'd expect she'd be faithful to
him, if she had one. She confirmed she hadn't a boyfriend although
there was this one guy, Gary, who has been pestering her. But she
wasn't in the least romantically interested in him, she said. My heart
sang with joy!

Sally asked me what I was looking for. I said " Romance ."

Bemused, she tittered and interrupted me. I was about to add--" and
sex would be nice, too "--but held my tongue. I figured prudence would
be better at this early stage of our relationship. I told her it is
nice to have someone to love and even nicer to be loved. She agreed it
was nice to be loved.

I ordered a King-sized spare rib, which I told the waitress we
intended to share. She ordered a mushroom soup and I a guacamole dip.
We shared each other's starters: How romantic! Sally assured me she
didn't have HIV but I didn't care, or rather, I took it as a given. In
any case, you can't get HIV from sharing food. Hepatitis, yes, but
I've already taken my booster jab.

For drinks, she had hot lemon tea and I had a hot honey lemon. It
reminded her of the honey lemon tea of our first meeting and she
laughed, displaying her lovely set of teeth and her ready, sweet
smile.

I told Sally I was enjoying her company and for a first date I was
very pleased with how it was progressing along. She expressed an
earlier anxiety that she had--given our age difference (I'm 44)--she
was worried we might have nothing in common to talk about. She was
glad we had nothing to worry on that score.

Sally asked me about my divorce. I told her I was not comfortable
discussing the reason as I was still on good terms with my ex. Talking
about the divorce was like betraying her trust and the private nature
of a relationship. She agreed when I suggested that she would not like
it if whatever happened between us was blabbered to other people.
Sally said she understood. Maybe when the time was ripe and if it was
relevant, I'd confide in her. But not just yet--I needed to know her
better.

Sally was quite clear that she wants me not to expect anything. I
guessed, correctly, that she did not want to rush into things and
would like things to take their course.

She asked me what I had been doing. I said my last job was as CEO of a
medical supply company. She expressed surprise that an obviously
"successful" person, a CEO no less--would take a romantic interest in
her. Her humility and total lack of vanity was the very essence of her
charm. I told her as such. She was bemused, expressing disbelief,
probably thinking I was telling her a line.

The lighting in the restaurant gave a warm glow to her cheeks and
before I could comment on it she said that the lighting made my face
look handsome. We laughed. I had a warm tingling sensation in my
cheeks ever since I realised I was in love with her. I certainly had a
buzz and she made me high.

Sally drove me home and asked if she'd like to take my dog for a walk.
I was greatly pleased when she said she would love to do so and
although she was a little afraid of Speedy who is huge in comparison
to her slight body, she eagerly accepted the idea of walking Speedy.
Speedy excitedly jumped on her a couple of times and I naturally took
the opportunity to hug and touch her to protect Sally from Speedy's
enthusiastic slobbering. We walked the length of my street and as I
was still not contented, we walked round the block as well. At some
point I asked her if it was too much to hold her hand and she promptly
replied in the affirmative. So its hands-off for now.

Our next meeting was at a more public occasion, but was lovely to see
her again and we did manage a few quiet moments to ourselves. Sally
wore beige slacks that slipped and bared her black panties. I made a
jocular remark about them--( Why do women wear black panties? In
memory of all those who were buried here )--to which she responded
with rowdy laughter.

At some stage she was seated on a barstool and I was behind her. I
eyed and admired her voluptuously broad butt. I told her I noticed
from the back that she had curvy hips. She said I was naughty to
notice such things and laughed.

We met next at a Christmas Tree Lighting ceremony on December 2. I
passed Sally a hand-written journal I had been keeping since we had
first met--it contained 40 pages of entries. Then, she said she had to
go away for about two weeks...

I only saw her briefly on Dec 11 at a gala charity dinner when I just
managed to pass her a " I Miss You! " card. She had returned
specifically for that dinner as she had to go on stage to receive an
momento as her company had managed the event.

Not being able to see her for weeks--she was hundreds of miles
away--was driving me crazy. I wanted to surprise her and made a fan
club website devoted to her and uploaded some photographs of
her--taken by a friend on Dec 11 when she went on stage.

Also, I had wanted to write in my journal and not elsewhere as I had
wanted it all in one location. Keeping my emotions and thoughts from
running around wild in my mind was driving me crazy. In retrospect, I
should have started another journal and not wait for the original.

On Tuesday, Dec 17 I received a very angry email from her demanding
that I delete the website. How dare I published her photos on the
Internet without her permission? I was so stunned, I did as she
commanded without a moment's hesitation. I phoned her at 1 pm (we
spoke for 5 and a half minutes) to let her know that I did as she had
demanded. She was pleased that I complied and immediately let it be
known that I was on probation--I was not permitted to call her, only
emails were allowed. While she was away, I had been permitted to call
only once a day. That night I took 50 mg of chlorpromazine at 1.30 am
as I was anxious not to lose any sleep over this incident less it
trigger a depressive episode.

It so happened we met again Wednesday night at a business dinner with
a mutual client. Again, we did manage to have a few quiet words
together. She forgave me for my audacity but made it clear that I was
still on probation--I was so pleased --I told her that I had felt
awful the past 48 hours--like I had been walking on egg-shells and my
tummy was turning, churning. On her part, she agreed to return my
journal which I had lent her to read at the beginning of the month.

She, however, informed me that she didn't now need the settee she had
earlier requested from me. This was in response to my asking whether
she received the SMS giving the width of it--153 cm. She had wanted to
know its dimensions because she needed a relatively small settee to
fit in her apartment. I was crest-fallen, but perked-up when the
conversation eventually turned to less serious matters.

I left at 10.40 pm with a load taken off my shoulders.

What I need to know is what should I do next? I posted (snail-mail)
cards apologising for my error. In mitigation, I said I was driven by
my enthusiasm and the intensity of my affection for and devotion to
her and I had wanted to surprise her. I told her I had no intention of
hurting her--that was the last thing on my mind. I had learnt my
lesson and would not pull a stunt like that again.

Would flowers help? I need a woman's perspective on this. Should I
back off until Sally contacts me? If she doesn't, does it mean I blew
it? How much space does Sally need? How will I ever know when I can
get in touch again? Help!

On the night of Monday, January 6 2003, I had a meeting with Sally and
her now boyfriend, Gary. It was a business meeting with two other
colleagues of mine, but I did manage a few private words with her as
usual.

On Dec 31, when Sally SMSed me that she was already taken, she didn't
tell me who her boyfriend was, only that he was someone I knew. I
suspected it was Gary but this puzzled and confused me. On our first
date, Sally had told me that she had told Gary repeatedly--
berkali-kali --that she was not in the least romantically interested
in him. So what gives? By Monday, I had realised that Sally, like any
other woman, has the right to change her mind.

Also, on Monday night, Gary spoke of his religious convictions. He
unabashedly claimed that he had none and that he worshiped money. How
Sally could go out with him is beyond me and in that manner, she has
gone down in my estimation of her.

She looked sad and tired; and definitely a far cry from the Sally I
had met and fell in love with in November. Then, she used to smoke 3
cigarettes a day. Now she smokes much more.

Earlier that day, a mutual friend of ours, Don, had surreptitiously
witnessed a shouting match between Gary and a young lady Don did not
know. Gary was yelling and saying that he had already cancelled the
supplementary credit card he had given to his wife. It was an ugly
scene. So, Gary was married and Sally was his extra-marital affair!

One thing I know for a fact, Gary is Sally's first boyfriend and we
all know from experience that first relationships almost always don't
work out. It turned out that Gary had formed a business--a partnership
with Sally and her sister, who backed the venture financially--and is
using Sally's flat address as the business address. This was
convenient because they were living together there. Sally had resigned
her job with the event management company to work with Gary full-time.
I suppose she was impressed with the money he had thrown at her--the
"working holidays" over Christmas and New Year, gallivanting at
various resort towns (Penang, Kuantan, Malacca and Kuching) and
travelling first-class.

Of one thing I am certain--patience has its rewards--in time, God will
deliver someone better into my arms. It could be Amanda, a new
acquaintance, or even someone I haven't even met yet, but if I am true
to myself, in time I shall reap the rewards of my patience.

I hadn't expected closure over Sally to be so unperturbing. Maybe it's
the carbamazepine, a mood stabilizer I was on, but whatever it is, its
her loss, not mine.

Three months later, Don received an SMS from Gary. It read that Sally
had left him and Gary was about to commit suicide. Don immediately
called Gary. It transpired that Sally's conservative parents had
learnt of their affair and were aghast that she had lost her virginity
before marriage to a married man who was co-habiting wth her in her
apartment. Gary had spent all the money Sally's sister has invested in
the business, taking Sally on those "business trips" all over the
country with nothing to show for it. It was a scandal!

Needless to say, Sally didn't attend Gary's funeral. Neither did I,
for that matter.