Katherine considered that for several seconds before quietly telling me "I think it's time I got back to the hotel, now."
Neither one of us said anything on the trip. When we got there, I helped her out of the cab, and then hurried to get the one package that she had out of the trunk. I was waiting to see what she wanted me to do with it when she reached out and took it from me and started for the door. She was just a couple of steps away when she turned and said "James? Would you be good enough to come up to my room? I think I'd like to talk with you a little more."
The doorman heard her, and after she'd gone inside, he gave me a look of curiosity; I simply shrugged my shoulders and got back in my rig to go find a place to park it. I'd just gotten inside the lobby when the night manager spotted me and came over to me. I figured I might have some explaining to do, but he said "I know it wasn't your idea to come in here, Jim. Ed" – the doorman – "told me that Mrs. McGreevy said that she wanted you to come up, so I figure that whatever the hell you did today, she was happy about it. So there isn't going to be any trouble about you being in a guests room."
"Thanks. I gotta admit, I was a little worried about it."
"No need, Jim. We aren't going to hold it against you if a guest wants you upstairs – particularly her. Just try not to mess things up now, okay?" – that last with a grin.
"Not if I can possibly help it!", I assured him, before heading for the elevators.
I'd been told she was in their best suite, and I knew where that was, even though I'd never actually been in it myself. The elevator got me to the top floor, and the name of her suite was right there by one of the half-dozen doors on that floor.
I knocked softly, and it was only a few seconds before the door opened to show her standing there. Seeing me, she stepped aside and invited me in. Once I was, she closed the door behind me, and then led the way into the living room area. I accepted the glass of wine she offered me, then took a seat on the opposite end of the couch that she led us to.
We'd each taken a couple sips of our wine when she told me "I have to admit, that was some story you gave me in your cab after dinner, James."
"Katherine, it wasn't a story – it's the truth."
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean 'story' that way. No, I meant it was something hearing about all that woman has been able to accomplish after all she's been through. But what really surprised me was what you had to say about me, and my life."
"I hope you'll forgive me, but it was something I figured needed to be said."
"What do you mean?"
"Even before lunch, I could see that you were mostly just going through the motions at those different places. I mean, sure, they had nice stuff, and you bought some of it, but it seemed to me like you weren't really involved. I've been out shopping with girlfriends and other women, and even when they're just looking, they're a whole lot more interested than you were. Then when you told me that you spend a lot of time just looking for something to do, and about the guys you meet and everything… well, it just seemed to me that somebody needed to point out to you that there were ways of solving those kinds of problems."
"And what made you think you could say something like that to me?"
"Well, after a good meal like that, you seemed to be in a fairly receptive frame of mind; I didn't figure it was too big of a chance. And like I told you, it seemed like something that needed to be said."
She looked at me contemplatively for several seconds before saying "Well, you were right. My life has been pretty empty since my husband died, and it was something that needed to be said. When you told me that you'd been a philosophy major, but dropped out, I have to admit that I thought that it was just because you were someone that got bored with studying; I wasn't quite ready to believe what you said about your reasons. But after we were… intimate, the explanation you gave me simply made too much sense for me to think that you'd been anything but a good student. And when I started really thinking about what you'd said, I had to start thinking about everything else I've seen, and learned about you. Once I did that, it didn't take me long to realize that you really, truly are a philosopher, in the classical sense of the word."
I nodded my head in acceptance of the compliment she'd just given me, and she went on "On the ride back here, I was thinking about what I want to do to change my life. I've got a few things that I think I'd be interested in doing, but I expect that it would be to my benefit to get some input from you before I start throwing money and time at them and possibly wasting both. Then when we're done with that, there's something else I'd like you to do for me – but I want to save that until we're done with this other part, first."
"I'll be glad to do whatever I can", I assured her.
She looked at me for a few seconds before standing up; I started to get up, too, and she gestured that I should stay where I was before telling me "Before we get too far into this, I want to make sure and give you an appropriate gratuity for all you've done for me today."
She disappeared into one of the other rooms, then reappeared a few moments later with an envelope in her hand. When she was seated again, she handed it to me, saying "That is from me to you, person to person. There will be an additional sum with the payment you receive for driving me around today."
I thanked her, and simply folded the envelope in half and stuck it in my shirt pocket. She asked "Aren't you going to look to see how much it is?"
"Katherine, you have been nothing but kind and generous with me today. I know that whatever is in here is what you think is fair and reasonable, and what I have earned, for good or bad. I won't embarrass either of us by opening it in your presence."
I could see that she was pleased with my reply, and had to figure that however much was in that envelope, it was probably a fairly nice tip.
Each of us took another sip of our wine, and she started telling me about some of the things that she'd thought she might like to start doing when she got home. She also asked me a fair number of questions about different aspects of them, and sought my opinion on their relative merits; the resulting conversation lasted for well over an hour.
I thought we were pretty much done when she reminded me that there was still something else by saying "With that out of the way, all that's left is that one last thing I wanted you to do for me."
"What would that be?"
"This afternoon… when we were… intimate…"
I hastened to tell her "No one will ever hear about it from me, I assure you."
She waved her hand dismissively, saying "I'm not concerned about that. If you have the principles to say something that you thought needed saying, despite the risk that I might take offense, then I think that I can trust you not to speak out of turn, as well. No, what I was going to say was that what we did – and more to the point, what you said about it afterwards – made me face up to the fact that I am, as you said, a fairly passionate woman. I've always enjoyed sex when it has happened, but I've never been one to initiate it. At least, not before today!", the last with a wry grin.
Taking a breath, she went on "That you helped me have no less than three orgasms so closely together… well, it made me realize that I've been holding things in that I really didn't need to – and perhaps shouldn't have. But it's an area that I've held in for so long that I'm not entirely sure I can release control over it all on my own."