When my wife quit working to have our first child, I secured a second job as a doorman/security guard at a high-rise apartment building about a half-hour from our home. The Bayview Towers was six stories high with a total of 60 apartments. The main floor consisted of two business apartments, management office and maintenance facilities. I would work there for about three years.
The entrance to the building, the main floor, consisted of a classed-in room approximately 10 x 10. It consisted of a main door and one other door that entered into the lobby, which contained chairs, sofas and the elevators. The lobby door was usually locked whether I was on duty, as doorman, are not. Also, inside this glassed-in area there was a podium, a stool, and a wall of buttons associated with each apartment. A visitor was required to contact the apartment and be buzzed in or, if acquainted well enough with the person, I would open the lobby door to allow them through. Another duty was to bring a wheeled basket to the front door if it was needed.
My main focus as security guard was the back and side parking lots and the back door leading into the lobby, and, of course, the building in general. I would also have a wheeled cart waiting for the ones I felt would be need one at the back entrance. My mind was on good tips.
During my first year, I was quite astounded by what the residents were willing to tell me about their lives out right and the other things I could sort out talking to the visitors and extended family members. I had my favorites among this three-tier group of people, some becoming lifelong friends.
One evening, in my doorman position, I was sitting on the cement bench outside the main door, having propped open the lobby door, it being a beautiful late May evening. I saw Linda coming down the sidewalk from the side parking lot. She was visiting her boyfriend, Carl, and both made for an interesting case study.
Months earlier, Linda had suspected that her policeman husband was slipping around on her. She had hired a private investigative service, which employed Carl. Carl, divorce from his wife, had walked in on his wife to find her in bed with another woman.
Carl indeed took the photos that proved that Linda's husband was cheating on her and she was soon divorced. It was a classic case of the private eye getting the cheated on housewife. But, what Linda didn't know was Carl was also seeing a rather good-looking blonde who was cheating on her husband. I had hit the buzzer on Carl's apartment many a time to warn him of the approach of one or the other ladies in question.
Are you with me so far?
I watched Linda walking towards me. She would openly flirt with me, which was the opposite, I had learned, of her former shy housewife self. She had become quite successful in real estate and was a confident liberated woman.
She had colored, auburn hair, a very attractive face, good statue and a sexy broad posterior. Sexy as all get out in all quarters.
"Good evening, blue eyes!" She greeted me happily, taking a seat in my lap, surprising the hell out of me. "Are you going to come up and see me if Carl's not here?"
Being fast on my feet, I asked her. "Does that mean you're going to give me some pussy."
She popped off my lap like a bunny rabbit. Patting me on the head, she replied gleefully. "Gotta run, sugar!"
As I turned my head to watch her go, studying her ass as always, I saw Mrs. Lupicheno approaching the lobby door. I stood to greet her.
Now, of all of the people in the apartment building, Mrs. Lupicheno was my favorite. A lady of 58 years she had lived in Denver until her husband had passed away eight months earlier and she had taken the job of secretary for the Dean of the local university. She had three children, and many grandchildren, scattered over the state of Colorado.
Mrs. Lupicheno was a classy lady with natural red hair, always in a bun, brown eyes, 5'6" next to my 5'9" and always wore a skirt type business suit, or, very seldom, a pretty dress. Her dark brown suit was my favorite, as it went well with her red hair. She appeared to be approximately 145lbs, trim and fit with a nice figure. We took a liking each other right off and I would go out of my way to see her securely into the elevator, helping her with her groceries or delivering my pre-read People Magazines to her door. I knew and kept an eye out for her car as it crossed through the light near the building.
"Preston, are you consorting with the ladies in the building?" She teased as she came through the lobby door. "I'm sorry I interrupted I didn't mean to spook her. A bit old for you maybe."
"She's a big tease and definitely not my type. My wife would call her a floozy." I replied. "And, I don't think it was you that caused her to jump up so quickly. I called her bluff with what I asked her."
"What did you ask her?" Mrs. Lupicheno whispered in a conspiratorial tone.
"When she flopped on my lap, I asked her when was she going to give me a little bit?" I replied in the same conspiratorial tone.
"You did not?" She exclaimed, with a smile on her face. "And, what do you mean, she's not your type? She looks like a very sexy lady to me."
I saw her glancing towards the street and I knew that she was expecting someone, probably the Dean, to pick her up.
"Honestly." I replied. "It would be someone like you. You're sweet, mature, intelligent and pretty as all get out."
"You're very kind, Press." She expressed. "I don't think I would like your wife calling me floozy!"
"You wouldn't have to worry about that." I assured her. "She would see your classiness and your gorgeous red hair and understand entirely how I had been waylaid."
"Let me guess! Your wife is a redhead?" She queried.
"She is." I replied. "A natural redhead!"
"You are so bad!" She exclaimed, seemingly to know I was referring to the cuff matching the collar. "Your type. We were supposed to be talking generic. Got a run press!"
I was right behind her as she walked out the door and down the steps to the car. I passed her and opened the door for her as I always had. I did that for most of my residents. It got me good tips a Christmas!
Then, there was another time.
"Good evening, Press." Mrs. Lupicheno said, coming through the lobby door."
"Good evening, pretty lady." I replied.
With the greeting, she became quiet, staring out the door. It was unlike her not to start a conversation. I studied her as she stared at the rain hitting the pavement outside.
"You seem to be a bit low tonight?" I queried.
"Do you ever get lonely, Press?" She asked.
"My wife is seven months pregnant. I lonely all the time!" I replied, seeing her smile slightly. "Are you lonely tonight?"
"I've been missing Charles terribly the last couple of days." She replied. John (I knew him to be the Dean) is always pressuring me. I've been thinking about moving back to Denver."
I saw the Dean's Cadillac as it crossed through the light. She did too.
"You want me to slap him around a little bit." I queried teasingly. "Give him a change of attitude!"
"You would do that for me?" She asked in a humorous tone.
"I would!" I replied.
"You're sweet, Press." She said, and she began to move toward the door. "But, I guess we cannot be intimidating the Dean of the University."
"You have a good evening Mrs. Lupicheno." I said, moving to open the door for her. I always said my goodbyes before she reached the car. "I'll keep an eye out for you later."
"Call me Claire, Press. Please." She said, as we moved towards the car.
"Are you sure?"
"I insist." She answered. "I'll see you later."
I felt very honored to be able to call her Claire. If there were other people within earshot, it was always Mrs. Lupicheno. But, any other time I called her Claire.
Later on that evening, I saw the Cadillac coming and was waiting for it to open the door for Claire. She said her goodbyes, thanking him for dinner, kissing him lightly on the cheek, and exited the car. As usual, I moved past her and opened the doors for her. She looked back and saw the Cadillac passing the building before, quite obviously, taking my arm as we walked to the elevators.
"Take it from a mother of three, you can have relations right up to the end if is not painful for her." Claire said, as I pushed the button for the elevator.
"Will you tell her that for me." I queried jokingly. "Because she doesn't believe me. I don't think her mother wants me in the bedroom with her at all."
"Poor baby!" She laughed, moving into the elevator and turning to lean against the back wall, smiling at me as the doors closed.
It was July 4th. Not starting until 5 o'clock, I had enjoyed the festivities of the holiday with my family. I was now working security until 2:00 AM on the fifth. I accepted that fact and was looking forward to going up on the roof and watching the fireworks. They would be a good 2 miles down the river but anywhere above the third floor one would have a good view. They were scheduled to begin at 9 o'clock.
About 8:30, I saw Claire's car cross the light as I was talking to Bill, a fellow worker, who was doorman for the evening. I made a beeline for the back door and walked out to where Claire was parking her car. As had become her habit, she took my arm and we walked back toward the building.
"Are you planning on watching the fireworks tonight?" I queried.
"Can we see them from here?" She asked.
"You're on the sixth floor so you will have an excellent view down the river." I assured her.
"Press, you're working security tonight, right?" She asked and continued. "You think you could slip away and join me. I would enjoy them more if you are there to watch them with me."
"Bill is working till 12. He has covered for me in the past so I don't think there will be a problem." I replied, pushing the button on the elevator.
