She sat at her desk after lunch, typing a memo and listening to the quiet murmur of the office around her. It was a quite day, a long day, and the pecking of her fingers on the keyboard faded from her mind as she allowed her thoughts to wander. There was a knot insider her, a tension that demanded release. A release, she thought as she typed, that she would not find today. It was, after all, just another day.
The receptionist came to her desk and handed her a Fed Ex envelope containing, she was sure, another mundane task that would help her to fill the hours of the afternoon. Picking up her silver letter opener she sliced the top of the cardboard envelope, looking inside to see a single piece of sand colored stationary. Immediately her heart began to beat faster, even as her mind was telling her that no, it wasn't possible. It couldn't be. And yet, as she slipped the paper out of the envelope, saw the words, she knew it was happening.
Come to me.
Three words, scratched in fast, angular strokes of blue ink burned into her mind. Her hands trembled as she picked up her desk phone, punching the key pad with quick gabs of her finger. The office manager answered sounding bored and tired.
"I have to go downtown for the afternoon." She said, a slight tremor in her voice betraying her sudden excitement. "Do you need anything brought to the courthouse?"
The answer was no, there were no filings to be made. She hung up her phone, flicked off her computer, and reached under her desk for her bag. Standing, sure that everyone in the office could see right through her, certain they could feel her body tremble through their office doors, she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked to the ladies room.
Slipping into a stall, she stepped out of her demure red heels and set her bag on the toilette seat. She eased her dark skirt up over her hips and slid her pantyhose down over her thighs, pulling them off and tossing them into her bag. Again she reached under her skirt, this time removing her comfortable, sensible cotton panties and pushed them into a crumpled ball at the bottom of her bag. Straightening her skirt she ran her hands through her hair, combing her tresses with her fingers, leaving it full and wavy. She sprayed a fine mist of perfume over her throat and zipped up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she stepped back into her heels and walked to the elevators in front of the office.
It seemed like an eternity until the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. Stepping inside, oblivious to the men in suits that filled the elevator car, she stood holding her bag in front of her, dangling from her fingers, looking like a little girl on her way to school. She gently bit her bottom lip as she watched the numbers light up, descending slowly until finally the doors slid back and released her into the lobby. Walking quickly to the front door of the building, her heels echoing like gunshots through the lobby, she spun through the revolving door and stepped out into the cold autumn afternoon.
Sometimes she felt guilty on days such as this. She thought of her life, how different it was now, and how the people that surrounded her, the ones that were there for her every day, would never think of her doing what she was doing. She was violating their trust. She knew this, and yet she could not stop herself from responding to the sudden appearance of the notes on sand colored stationary. Not any more than he could stop himself from sending them. She clutched the note in her hand as she flagged a taxi on Madison, settling into the back seat and instructed the driver to take her downtown.
Watching the city slide by her window she realized she was slowly rubbing her thighs together under her skirt. Her entire body was suddenly alive, suddenly charged with a lightening that she spent her days searching for in the sky. She dreamed of these days, lived for them in a way that she knew should make her ashamed. She was not, even though she told herself she should be. She could not feel that, not on these days. Not when the lightening would strike, causing her world to tilt and swirl and become something other than what it was. Not when he would call for her. By Canal Street she felt she was losing her mind, her thoughts a patchwork of images, voices echoing in her mind. She slipped a compact out of her bag and flipped open the little mirror, dark red lipstick coating her lips before she touched her hair with her fingertips. The cabbie glanced at her in the rear view with a look that was curiosity tinted with hunger. She told him where to turn, stuffing a wad of singles into his hand as he pulled to the curb. She opened the door and stood in the autumn wind for a moment, feeling the cool breeze and smelling the sea before turning to enter the hotel.
She scanned the dark lobby as she walked to the reception desk, quietly giving her name and feeling that familiar rush through her body as she asked for the envelope she knew would be there. The desk clerk smiled politely and handed her a small red packet which she took with a quivering hand. She turned and walked to the elevator, her heart pounding in her chest. The only sound she could hear was the rushing rhythm of her blood in her veins, rushing thick and hot from her heart, warming her body as she pressed the button for the top floor. The numbers seemed to light in slow motion, the lift taking what felt like an eternity to reach her destination.
In the hallway she opened the red envelope and slipped out a room key, glancing at the number written on the packet before tossing it into a trash can. Her breathing was fast and shallow, her mouth dry with excitement, her body warm and flushed and ready. She reached the door and considered knocking, forgetting in her excitement that she held a key. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply before sliding the key into the lock and twisting the door handle.
