Tabula Rasa

The host of the party, having made the introductions wandered off with a vague hospitable murmur. I squinted at the woman before me, trying to place her wry smile - I paused for too long. "You don't remember?" She pouted her lips in mock disappointment. My wife appeared at my elbow. "Hello love." She touched my arm and I glanced down at her, she looked towards me expectantly, awaiting an introduction. "Ah, yes, Clarissa, meet my wife, Mary." Clarissa's raised her eyebrows at me almost imperceptibly, before turning to my wife and offering her slender hand. "So how do you two know each other?" Mary asked, eyes darting. The real question lurked beneath the surface. I paused again and Clarissa's half smile slightly widened. "We met at a conference a few years ago, in Paris." She answered. A tingling heat spread across my body and perspiration instantly prickled. Paris. We stayed at the same hotel, shared a cab, it was late, I offered to transfer my slides, her room, plausible deniability and the smell of her perfume. She thanked me, touched my arm, lingered. The taste of her body and cheap champagne. Mary nodded slowly.