"But, Wally. I've got to find a place by this weekend," I pleaded into my cell phone.
"I know, Kid. But I've got this closing this afternoon and I just can't make it."
I had agreed to take a promotion to a new job in Chicago and was excited at the prospect of moving into a new city and taking on greater responsibilities after many years of learning the ropes and letting my various bosses take all the credit for my hard work. The home office had arranged with a local realtor who was a nice enough guy, an older type in his 60's with a story and a line for every situation. Although Wally was amusing at first, I was getting tired of his glad-handing and stupid jokes and was frustrated at not finding the right house. We had made an appointment to view a batch of new listings but he had just called to let me know he had an important closing he had to attend.
"So, Wally, where does this leave us?"
"Gees, I don't know. Kid," he said slowly. "Wait a minute."
I listened as he set the phone down. It sounded like he was talking to someone down the hall.
"I'll tell you what," he said coming back on the line. "There's this new kid at the office who can probably take you around. Hang on a minute."
I could hear as he placed his hand over the mouthpiece and shouted back and forth with someone in the office.
"Hey, Kid. I'll tell you what. Chris is new here, but can show you this new batch. A real smart kid. I'll bet there's gotta be one in this batch that you'll like. Come on over at three like we planned and ask for Chris."
"Great! Thanks a lot, Wally."
I was relieved after hanging up, thinking at last maybe this would be someone who was closer to my own age and might be able to fill me in on the social scene and some of the other attractions my new city could offer. I was tired of staying in a hotel, living out of suitcase, eating room service.
I strolled into the office at three humming the tune to "My Kind Of Town" and asked for Chris.
"Just a moment and I'll page Chris for you," said the receptionist, eyeing me closely.
We had been raising the bar on our flirtation with each visit. A perky brunet with nice legs who seemed to prefer short skirts and thigh high stockings and enjoyed showing them off, she ran her finger through her silky dark hair where it had fallen across her brow and tucked it behind her ear. I noticed she was wearing golden hoop earrings that usually indicate availability.
"Chris will be right with you," she said with a smile, her low breathy voice drawing out each syllable.
"Thanks," I said, enjoying the view as she turned from the phone, her skirt rising up past the lacy stocking tops to show off a slice of nicely tanned thigh.
I spent a second or two trying to decide which line might serve as an opener to an invitation to drinks or dinner and had just about decided when I heard footsteps coming up the hallway. I looked up to see a prim young woman walking quickly into view.
"Mr. Wilson, I'm Chris Miller," she said nervously extending her hand with a thin artificial smile. "Wally asked me to show you some new listings."
I took her hand and smiled. Her hand was soft and warm to the touch and seemed to be shaking slightly. Her straight honey blond hair was pulled severely back and secured with an expensive looking clasp. The thin rims of her glasses framed her gray-blue eyes. She nervously rearranged the leather-bound folder she carried. At first glance she appeared plain and bookish although not unattractive. For some reason I kept thinking of a buddy's ex-girlfriend we used to call the ice queen.
"Nice to meet you," I said, noticing her smooth clear complexion and a lack of makeup, except for a hint of blush and lipstick. I tried to refrain from looking her up and down, but I'm sure my eyes gave me away. "I hope you've got my dream house in there."
"What?" she said puzzled for a moment, tugging at the jacket of her neatly pressed navy blue business suit, and looking me in the eye intently.
I pointed to her folder.
"Oh, yes," she smiled, showing off a shy, terrific smile. "The new listings. Yes, I've got them all in here."
As we walked to her car, a new Cadillac, she explained how she had just recently started working with this real estate office and was still feeling like the new kid on the block. I noticed as she slipped behind the wheel that my first impression may have been wrong, for I could see the outline of a nice trim hourglass figure curving underneath the stiff business suit.
"Nice car," I remarked running my hand along the supple leather trim.
"Daddy bought it for me as a consolation gift," she dryly said with a groan. "I'll tell you about it sometime. So just what kind of house are you looking for Mr. Wilson?"
"Jack," I insisted. "Call me Jack."
"Okay, Jack," she laughed, finally displaying a real smile.
I began to describe my situation. Single guy, never married, no kids, and nice income, looking for a good-sized place to settle into and see what happens. I began to get comfortable with her and let my glances toward her linger, taking in the honey blond hair, the small sparkling earrings on her delicate little ears, the smooth high cheekbones, the full moist lips, the pale pink flesh descending from her neck toward her bosom, chastely covered by her blouse and jacket. Then there were the long stockinged legs. I had always been a leg man and she had a well turned pair without a doubt. When she shifted slightly in her seat I could see a touch of stocking top extend below her hemline.
At a stoplight I made a comment about how I always took my time to find exactly what I was looking for and that this house was no exception. She looked over at me and our eyes met up and our glance bounced back and forth. There was a depth of feeling in her look, a bit of curiosity mixed with a bit of hurt and a touch of longing. The car behind us beeped the horn when the light changed.
There were seven houses to look at. The first two were forgettable. The third was okay. The fourth was too nice for my budget. By the time we were touring the fifth house Chris had started to relax. As I walked ahead of her up the stairs to see the master suite, I turned to ask her a question and thought I caught her checking out my ass. Now, I'm no body builder with rippling biceps and washboard abs but I do run and exercise to keep myself trim and was flattered at her glance. Of course, she quickly looked back to her listing form when she noticed my look and said something about the imported marble in the master bath.
Driving to next house I told her about my promotion and how I was looking to put down roots. She told me about life following her divorce the year before. I told her about my family being spread out all around the country. She told me about her family around Chicago and intimated that they were pretty well off. I told her how eager I was to take on my new position. She told me how she had tried not to use her father's good fortune to open doors. I remarked how I always enjoyed starting new assignments. She told me that she was looking forward to making her first big sale. I told her how I was looking forward to making new friends and professional relationships. She told me how she always had a hard time establishing relationships at work.
"The women never seem to like me and the men always like me too much," she remarked.
"I guess being a pretty woman has its downside," I replied sympathetically.
She looked over at me again and in her glance was the same searching look as before, so I smiled, not knowing what else to say.
By the time we rolled up to the last house on the lot, Chris had relaxed considerably, even unbuttoning the jacket of her suit to reveal a soft silky white blouse. She had even let out a laugh or two, not a girlish giggle, but a throaty, womanly laugh. The house itself was gorgeous with freshly painted trim with nice landscaping and an inviting front entrance. When Chris struggled with opening the door, I said, "Let me try," and reached to work the key in the lock. Our hands brushed and we caught ourselves looking into each other's eyes again.
The foyer was beautiful with ceramic tile and mahogany wainscoting leading to an inviting winding staircase. We looked through the downstairs that was laid out wonderfully. The house had been well taken care of and had some nice updates, especially in the kitchen.
"So what do you think of this one so far," she said as she lead me up the stairs to the second floor.
I found my gaze following the sway of her tight little ass as she climbed the stairs. There was a long slit up the back of her skirt that I hadn't noticed before that gave me a great view of her long legs and stockings.
"It looks just great from here," I mumbled.
We looked through the main bath and other bedrooms and came to a stop by the door of the master bedroom.
"Wow," I exclaimed when I took a look inside. "This is beautiful."
It was a large room with French doors that lead to a deck off the back of the house. I could see a large master bath and a cedar lined walk in closet. The room was decorated with antiques in an art modern style right from the pages of a late 30's House Beautiful magazine. The sleekly designed furnishings were rich mahogany and the accessories lush shades of burgundy.
"I love this style of decoration," she cooed as she let her hand glide over the silken bedspread.
"So do I," I replied. "I always thought that this was what the future would look like. It's like we stepped onto the set of a great old movie."
We stepped out onto the deck for a moment and took in a view of the large backyard.
"Let's see. The pool can go here and the tennis courts over there," I jokingly gestured.
