Untold Sorrow

Proposition -Part 1

Dear All here goes new chapter , Hope you like it

above the photo of Jennifer & Matthew

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Jennifer P.O.V

By the time we had had a drink and finished our lunch, the Senate Dining Room was virtually empty. At a table across the room, three solemn-faced men were deep in conversation, and at two or three other tables couples still sat lingering over a late lunch. The waiters had all disappeared.

Matthew and I sat at a table near a window viewing the city during lunch we had chatted pleasantly about the concert last night, my work and Matthew's position on various political issues, all on an impersonal, courteous plane.

He was good company, I thought now watching him as he leaned back and lit a Cigarette. Ordinarily, I found politics boring, but Matthew brought a personal note into the discussion that made it come alive for me. Also, he knew how to listen. He really paid attention to me when I spoke about my own work and never made it sound trivial or merely an idle feminine pastime.

We had been silent now for some moments, finishing up our coffee, and I had the odd feeling that he was studying me, debating within himself. Then I began to wonder if there wasn't more to the unexpected luncheon invitation than mere social courtesy.

Finally, he seemed to make up his mind about something. He ground out his cigarette and leaned slightly towards me, his elbows on the table, his expression grave.

'You may have wondered why I asked you to come today', he began slowly.

'A little', I admitted, meeting the steady grey gaze.

'I have a Proposition for you', he said, watching me carefully. I couldn't hide the sudden look of alarm that flitted across my face, and he held up a hand, frowning slightly. 'Not that kind of proposition', he said.

I clutched my handbag in my lap and waited. What could he be leading up to?

He exhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair. 'You and I don't know Each other very well', he went on in a serious tone, 'but in our brief acquaintance I've come to believe that we have one important thing in common'. He paused.

'Go on', I said after a moment. 'What's that'?

His mouth quirked in a wry smile. 'Let's say we're both-emotionally adrift'. He shook his head. 'I don't quite know how to put it'.

'You're doing fine so far', I said evenly, wondering what was Coming.

'All right, then, to put it bluntly, I get the impression that you're as tired of, shall we say, importunate escorts, as I am of...' He broke off.

I smiled 'Of possessive women'? I finished for him.

He Nodded. 'You could put it that way,' he said drily.

I relaxed visibly. I looked down at the table and began toying idly with my fork. 'You're right', I

Said with a sigh. 'At least you don't have Margaret pushing them at you'.

'No, but there are plenty of substitutes only too eager to fill that function for Me. Sometimes I wonder if romance is all middle-aged matrons have on their mind'.

'It's high on their list of priorities, at any rate', I said with a little Laugh. 'Well, then, what's your proposition? Shall we join forces and take out an advertisement in the New York Times? I can see it now: