The Ultimate Bet

Then he met Carlotta Nuyen.

She wasn’t beautiful, sensual, stunning, or voluptuous. She was more than all that, and the synergy of those traits was a sum far greater than the total of its parts. She was beyond description. She could only be experienced.

Half Vietnamese and half Mexican, her long silken, raven-black hair framed a face made for the finest portrait painter. Her figure could shame a Hollywood starlet and no mere mortal could take his eyes off of her long, shapely legs. Her slightly slanted deep brown eyes were hypnotic and her smile gleamed.

They met inadvertently at a business conference in New York City. Jim stood in an elevator heading to his room when Carlotta stepped in carrying a brief-case full of file folders in one hand and a bunch of loose files under her other arm. The elevator stopped at Jim’s floor, and he moved forward, but Carlotta stepped out first. Jim followed and they walked in opposite directions for a few paces when the loose folders under her arm flopped to the floor. Jim turned and helped her pick them up.

“Thank you very much. I can be clumsy some-times.”

“You’re welcome. You were carrying a heavy load. What are all these files for?”

“I’m with an accounting firm, and it’s tax season. We’re really backed up.”

“Let me carry some of these for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’d like to.”

“Okay. I’m just a few doors away.”

“Are you an accountant at the company?” Jim asked.

“Yes.”

They reached her door, and she opened it, placed the briefcase on the floor, and turned to take the files from Jim.

She smiled at him. “Thank you again.”

“My pleasure. Where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

Jim’s eyebrows raised. “Me too. What a coincidence. Must be fate.”

“Maybe.”