One Friday In February

Friday, February 14, 1975

He knew that he should have ignored the page but being a "go-to guy" in his department had afforded him preferential scheduling of service calls around his classes at UCLA all these years.

When he had found a pay phone and called into dispatch the service call that he was assigned turned out to be on the way home, and from the description, shouldn't require him to work beyond five o'clock on this Friday afternoon.

The apartment complex that matched the address in Hermosa Beach required non-residents to park on the street, which could be a problem during the summer when visits to the beach two blocks away would bring thousands of people and their cars to the area. On this overcast and drizzly day in February, he found a space along the curb without any difficulty.

The directory for the complex was accurate, so he found the correct apartment and was knocking on the door only twenty minutes after receiving the dispatch. While waiting for the door to be answered, he buttoned the top button on his shirt and tightened his tie against it.

The door was opened only as far as the security chain would allow. A face that was partially visible on the other side of the door appeared below the level of the chain.

"Can I help you?" The age of the person speaking was difficult to ascertain, but the voice was definitely feminine.

"Hi, I'm Mark Preston with Pacific Shores Office Equipment. I have a service call at this address for a Dori Evans on a DeJur-Grundig foot pedal."

"Wow! This is quick." The door closed enough for the chain to be removed and then it was opened wide. "Please come in."

He entered the apartment and let his eyes adjust to the room light as he waited for the door to be closed behind him.

"I'm Dori Evans," the resident said.

Mark turned around to greet her and saw the prettiest girl he had ever seen in person. Dori wasn't short, but she wasn't tall either. Mark figured her to be just over five feet and a half tall. Her angelic face, dark curly hair and ice blue eyes made his mouth go dry. The oversized UCLA sweatshirt that she wore hid most of her figure, but the athletic appearance of what he saw of her legs indicated to him that her slender body was just as well toned.

"I got your dispatch while on my way home, so I decided to see what service I could be to you before the weekend. We service a lot of equipment for stenographers and transcribers who work out of their homes, so I always try to get to them as soon as possible because I know it's their livelihood."

"Thank God someone understands," Dori said as she led him to her dining room table. "I have hours of tapes to transcribe before Monday and had hoped to finish today so that my weekend was free. The new Space Mountain ride just opened at Disneyland and I wanted to try to go there on Sunday."

Mark saw the standard transcription setup of an IBM Correcting Selectric Two typewriter and DeJur-Grundig reel-to-reel tape player sitting side-by-side on the table. He set his tool case, which resembled a large briefcase on the floor and opened it up.

"So, tell me what's going on with your foot pedal," he said.

"The rewind isn't working," Dori replied. "It's been acting up for the past few days, but it just stopped completely this morning."

"Let's have a look," Mark said as he unplugged the cord to the foot pedal from the back of the tape player and then retrieved the device from the floor under the table. He spread a shop cloth onto a clear section of the table and set the foot pedal on it. Using a small-blade screwdriver, he quickly and efficiently removed a small c-clip from the left side of the shaft, and then separated the top and bottom sections of the foot pedal by pulling the shaft out the opposite side.

As soon as the inside of the foot pedal became visible to her, Dori suspected that she knew the problem. Mark confirmed it for her by saying, "The contacts on these foot pedals attract hair and debris through the static electricity that gets generated through them. It will only take me a few minutes to clean the contacts and then we can try it to see if that was your problem."

Mark glanced around to locate a trash can, and then carried the foot pedal over and used canned air to blow all the dust and hair from the foot pedal into the trash. He then returned to the table and used a small Emory board to further clean the contact surfaces before spraying contact cleaner on them to finish the job. Realigning the spring, reinstalling the shaft and replacing the c-clip took less than a minute. He placed the foot pedal back onto the floor and reconnected the cable to the back of the player.

"Give it a try," he said as he stepped back and pulled the chair in front of the typewriter out for Dori to sit down.

As she sat, the bottom of the sweatshirt rode up to expose more of her thighs, and her left shoulder became almost fully exposed. Unless she was wearing a strapless bra, she wasn't wearing one at all. There was the remnant of a tan line on her shoulder, which made Mark wonder what other tan lines she might have hidden.

It took only a moment for Dori to confirm that Mark's repairs had been successful. "Oh, thank you so much! Now I can finish everything tonight."

"I'm glad it was that easy," Mark said as he repacked his tool bag. "Just give me a minute to write up your ticket and I'll get out of your hair."

"Take your time," Dori said. "I suppose you need to document all your work, even if it is warranty related."

Mark checked his dispatch information once more and said, "My records indicate that this is a billable service call. When did you buy your equipment?"

Dori had a surprised look on her face, "I don't have the exact date, but it was right before Labor Day, so it's within a year."

"Did someone tell you that this equipment had a one-year warranty?" Mark asked.

"I just assumed," said Dori. "Almost all electronics come with a one-year warranty these days."

Mark nodded in understanding and said, "That's true for most consumer products. DeJur-Grundig dictating and transcribing products are used in business, such as your transcribing business, so they are considered commercial products and only carry a ninety-day warranty."

Dori now had a worried look on her face. She asked, "How much is a service call if I am beyond the warranty?"

Mark held his service ticket book in his hand but didn't start writing yet. He looked down at Dori and said, "The minimum service call fee is forty-five dollars."

Dori sat silently thinking while staring back at Mark. Her eyes were becoming wet with building tears when she asked, "Will you take a check?"

"I'm sorry, but that would have to be pre-approved with our accounting department."

"Oh," Dori said. She turned her gaze from Mark and stared at the typewriter keyboard.

"Look," Mark said, "Obviously, you weren't expecting to be charged for the service call. Would you mind getting me a glass of water? Let's try to figure something out for you."

Without replying, Dori rose, walked into her small galley kitchen, pulled a glass out of an upper cabinet and filled it with tap water. She carried it back to the table and set it in front of Mark.

"Please, have a seat," she told him.

"Before I do, why don't you call back my company and cancel the service call you placed earlier. Tell them everything is working fine now."

"But won't they know that you have been here?" she asked.

"They know that I have been dispatched, but not when I arrived. I'll just tell them that you refused service when I got here. I didn't use any parts or anything that I would need to account for, so consider this my Valentine's Day present."

"What? Oh yeah, today is Valentine's Day, isn't it? You would do that for me?"

Mark chuckled, "I'm sure it isn't as special or romantic a gift as your boyfriend or husband has planned for you, but under the circumstances, it's the best I can do right now."

Dori studied him for several seconds. He was more professional looking and clean-cut than the types of guys she usually dated, but he had mesmerizing hazel eyes to go with his All-American good looks.

"Wouldn't your gift to me make your girlfriend or wife jealous?" she asked.

"Alas," he said with a smile, "I am destined to spend another romantically unrequited Valentine's Day if you refuse my meager gesture."

Dori once more sat in contemplation while she studied Mark. He was almost the polar opposite of the 'bad boy" types that she had always been attracted to, yet she sensed that there might be something under the surface that she couldn't see.

"Well, your 'meager gesture' just happens to be the only offer I have received this year," she said. "I would be honored to accept your gift on one condition."

"What condition?" Mark asked.

"Well, actually two conditions," she said. "First, take off your tie and make yourself comfortable."

"Gladly," Mark said as he unknotted his tie, pulled it loose from around his collar and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. He folded the tie and stuck it into one of the back pockets of his slacks.

Dori called the number that she had spoken with earlier to schedule the service call, and following Mark's instructions, she cancelled the request. While waiting for the dispatcher to confirm her cancellation, she studied her guest.

Dori was pleased to see how muscular Mark's neck was. "Do you ever do weed?" she asked after disconnecting the call.

Mark smiled and said, "If I don't have to worry about driving afterwards, sure."

"Is there someplace that you need to be this evening?" she asked.

"Not that I am aware of. Are you inviting me to hang around here for a while?"

Dori smiled and nodded, "I think if we are going to be each other's Valentine, then we should spend a few hours together at least. Don't you?"

"Wouldn't you like me to buy you dinner or something?"

Dori rose and left the room. Mark assumed she was heading into the bedroom. She returned shortly with a plastic bag containing several rolled joints sitting on top of some loose pot. She carried the bag over to the coffee table in front of the sofa and set it next to an ashtray there. She then went into the kitchen and retrieved a book of matches from a drawer and returned to the sofa.

"It's easier to pass a joint if all the participants are within arm's reach of each other," she said to Mark. "Come join me."

Mark picked up his glass of water and walked over to the arm chair that sat perpendicular to one end of the sofa. He set the glass onto the coffee table and leaned back to study Dori, who was sitting with her legs folded under her in the middle of the sofa.

Dori scooted over to be on the end of the sofa nearest him. She thought that he apparently believed that it would be inappropriate for him to share the sofa with her, which validated her opinion that he was a goody-two-shoes kind of guy.

"You don't have to smoke this with me if it makes you uncomfortable," she said. "I just thought that it would give us a mellow start to our evening."

"You know that you're very beautiful, don't you?" he asked.

Dori was surprised by the question but saw the sincerity in his eyes. She also saw something else in his eyes that she had never seen before. Now she suspected that she knew how Eve felt when the serpent tempted her. "Come taste this delicious apple" was what his eyes were beckoning to her, but what apple? She remembered something that a girlfriend had told her when they were comparing their habit of dating 'bad boys'. Her friend had said, "All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you." That hadn't actually been her experience, but she kept being drawn to the bad boys regardless. Until now.

In response to his compliment, she simply smiled, said "Thank you," and lit up one of her joints. She took a long pull and held the smoke in as she passed the joint to Mark. He never took his eyes of hers as he accepted it and brought it to his lips. He took a hit and held it but didn't pass the joint back to her just yet. He watched her slowly exhale, studying the way her lips parted and her body relaxed.

"Do you like your job?" she asked before taking the joint back and hitting it again.

Mark exhaled and said, "It's been great for me so far. The company encouraged me to take classes at UCLA and let me run service calls between them. Most of my dispatches were in Westwood, Santa Monica, Century City -- you know that area. Now they're working with me on getting my teaching career started by allowing me to teach night classes at a couple of community colleges. What about you? Do you like doing transcribing?"

After exhaling, she passed him back the joint and replied, "I need to build up a client list that will support me, but that's slowly coming along. If I can get established, it will be an ideal job to pay my way through law school. My plan is to start at Whittier Law School in the fall semester, so I have a few months to make a go of things."

"You live here by yourself?" Mark asked as he watched Dori placing the joint into a roach clip.

Passing the clipped joint back to him, she replied, "For as long as I can afford to. There are rumors that the rent is going to be increased in a few months, so I'll have to see what that presents me with. What about you? Do you live nearby?"

He took a hit and passed the dwindling joint back to her, "I have a studio apartment in Long Beach right on Ocean Boulevard. It's not much, only has a Murphy bed for example and parking can be a challenge, but the location is right across from the beach and I can walk to my favorite hang outs in Belmont Shores."

Dori released the nub of the roach into the ashtray, "Do you want to do another?"

Mark took a drink of water and gazed at her for a few seconds before saying, "Do we need to make plans for satisfying the 'munchies'? If you want to order a pizza to be delivered, I would be happy to treat you."

"I'm afraid that I am out of practice as a hostess," Dori admitted. "A pizza sounds good though, and I do have some beer if you would want one instead of water."

"That sounds good," said Mark as he stood up. "I assume that the beer is in the fridge, so I'll get us each one while you call and order the pizza. Get whatever you want on it."

Dori rose and followed Mark into her kitchen, "Can you hand me the yellow pages off the top of the refrigerator?"

Mark handed her the book and then retrieved two Coors cans out of the refrigerator. He popped the top off on one and handed it to Dori, and then opened his own. They walked back to their previous seats and Dori pulled the phone from the corner table into her lap.

Mark silently watched her as she found a listing in the yellow pages and then dialed the number. He watched her fingers manipulating the rotary dial and thought about how they would feel manipulating other things. She finished ordering the pizza and set the phone and yellow pages back onto the corner table.

"They said that it would be here in about an hour. I guess Valentine's Day is a big pizza delivery day for some reason," she told him.

Mark checked his watch and then sought out her eyes once more. He found her gaze waiting to meet his. "Do you consider yourself adventurous?" he asked her.

"Not especially," Dori says, unsure of the exact context of his question. "Agreeing to be a Valentine for a complete stranger might make you question that however, but other than dating some questionable characters, I have led a relatively sheltered life."

Mark held her gaze and watched her shift her legs so that she was once again sitting with them folded underneath her body as she sat back on the sofa.

"What are you wearing underneath your sweatshirt?"

"Excuse me?" she asked. That question was out of left field if she had ever heard one.

"I asked you what you are wearing underneath your sweatshirt. Are you wearing shorts, panties, both, neither...? What?"

Dori stared back into those eyes that had been tempting her with some hidden message for several minutes now. She took a drink from her beer and considered her reply.

"I am wearing panties, that's all. Why?"

"Take them off and hand them to me," Mark said matter-of-factly, as if he was requesting another glass of water from her.

"Look," she began, but he interrupted her.

"Do you need me to take them off for you? I will if that is what you want."

"Why do you want me to give you my underwear?" she asked.

"Because you want to give me your underwear," he assured her. "You want to play, and I am willing to accommodate you, so start by taking off your underwear and giving them to me."

How would he know if she wanted to 'play', and what did he mean by 'play' in the first place? She contemplated his statement for a minute before standing before him.

"I don't know why I am agreeing to this, but as long as you know that nothing is going to happen between us, I'll play along..."

She turned her back to him, reached under the hem of her sweatshirt and sought the top of her panties without exposing herself any further to him.

"Turn around," he instructed. "I want to see your eyes."

She turned and stared into his eyes as she slowly lowered her panties down her thighs. When they had reached just below her knees, she raised her right leg and pulled her foot free of the fabric. She released the panties from her hands and let them fall around her left foot and ankle. She raised her left foot, capturing the panties on the top of her foot and presented them to him.

Without his eyes ever leaving hers, he reached out and removed the offered panties from her foot, which she lowered to the floor. She stood still as if awaiting further instructions and watched him bring her panties to his face to smell her scent on them. "God, that was hot," she thought.

When he just sat in place watching her, without providing any further instructions or requests, Dori sat back onto the sofa, once more folding her legs beneath her.

Mark shook his head and asked, "Dori, is that really how you want to sit?"

"How would you like me to sit?' she whispered, almost afraid to hear his answer, dreading that he was looking inside her head even better than she was herself.

"You're curious, aren't you?" he asked her.

God, how did he know? She had felt her body flushing as she removed her panties, but more than that, she had felt sensations in an area that was no longer covered by her panties. She blushed even more at how obvious she was to this strange man.

"Find out," he said when she didn't answer his question. "Sit there so that I can watch you find out for both of us."

Keeping her eyes locked on his, seeking guidance and following the temptations, Dori slowly unfolded her legs and stretched them out in front of her. Her sweatshirt hem was sitting high on her thighs, obscuring a view of what was below it for both of them. Understanding what he had asked of her, she moved her body from side to side as she lifted the hem of her sweatshirt until it was laying bunched around her waist. She turned her body so that her left foot could rest on the seat of the sofa when she bent her leg at the knee and kept her right foot on the floor. She was now exposing herself openly in a manner that she had never imagined herself doing, and doing it to a man that she hardly knew.

Mark's eyes were so riveted on hers that she wondered if he even noticed her exposed sex just inches from him. The laser focus that he had on her eyes kept her equally focused upon his.

"Go on," he urged. "Tell us if you're wet."

She slowly moved her right hand down to her thigh and edged it toward her pubic hair.

"Use both hands," Mark instructed. "Don't just feel for it, show it to me. Spread your lips and let me see if they are as glistening as we both suspect that they are."