Once again, thank you to my friend "Nick" for bringing me to wonderful idea of writing stories not just for myself, but for others too.
*
I sit in a chair in the lobby, waiting for my secret woman. Her scent still lingers on my skin. The minutes tick away on the giant clock above the sign in counter. A young woman with her hair up in a bun standing behind the counter glances up at me and smiles, then looks back down to her work.
I look around, tapping my foot lightly on the carpet. A display board has the name of a non-profit company and the time of a benefit by the big arch way to the dance hall. "Bless All The Children" in big cursive letters at the top of the board.
"Great," I think, "a bunch of rich assholes trying to look good in the world by donating some money that they would just spend on their rich stuck up kids." I smile at my thought, and glace back up at the clock.
"Sir," a voice says. It's the young woman behind the counter. "Are you waiting for someone?"
"Yes, ma'am," I reply. I stand and walk over to the counter. "Has anyone come looking for me?"
"No, sir," she says looking at her message center for all the hotel guests. "There are no messages or contacts for you tonight."
"Thank you," I say, smile, and then walk back to my chair.
The entrance door from outside opens wide, sending in a rush of cool air. A door man helps a lady in a long red dress walk in. I stand, smile. Can this be my special lady?
No, her snooty, three times her age, husband comes in behind her. He takes her arm, and walks to the dance hall.
I sit back down, looking back up at the clock. "Damn," I curse under my breath. The time ticks away, almost so slowly that my insides could burst. "Where is she?" I whisper.
The door opens again, and a rush of people come in. All dressed fancy, some of the women in long black evening gowns, others, in red and white. They all are accompanied by a date, or are busy chatting with another woman. I look at each of the women in red intently. They all enter the dance hall, not even noticing me.
"Maybe she is in the dance hall?" the young woman says from behind her counter. "How about I walk in there with you and see if we can find her." She stands, tells her co-worker to watch the desk and page her if there are any problems. She comes out from behind the counter, she is wearing the normal hotel uniform, a black dress jacket over a white shirt, a black skirt and black high heels. If I wasn't looking for my special woman, I would ask her for her name and number.
She escorts me into the dance hall, I follow closely behind. Watching her sweet tight butt from under the skirt sway from side to side. "Do you see her?" she asks, stopping by an door with a "No Admittance--Employees Only" sign.
