Daytime Encounter (A Short Story)

BOOK: Daytime Encounter (A Short Story)
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“DAYTIME ENCOUNTER”
By Alan Lynn
 

Copyright
© 2013.  Allen Lin

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please refer all pertinent questions to the publisher.

All characters in this story are fictitious.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, is purely coincidental. 

 

 

The massive “O” shaped silver building that sits in a lush green area of Century City is designed by the legendary architect I.M. Pei himself.  At dawn, the first beams of ginger orange daylight flood the empty center of the building and radiate the entire structure; awakening it from its evening slumber.  

Chaste raced up to the building that crisp, sunny February morning in her newly leased two door Fiat.  She maneuvered her car around the gaudy, late model Mercedes and Porsches double parked in the semicircle driveway.

“Hello
!...Peoople!” she yelled. 

Seeing a precious open spot, she parked near the curb and checked her phone.  It read 9:15. 

“Shit” she thought.  “Late again.”

Chaste was almost always late to work.  Not that it really mattered, since the partners at her law firm usually made their way in at noon after a morning round of golf.  Still, she wanted to keep up appearances and not lose the job that she had slaved three long years at law school to get.

Fixing her hair in the rearview mirror, she simultaneously wound up her shade of red  lipstick and applied it deftly.  Not completely accustomed to her new car, she opened the small driver’s side door slowly, swung her legs out and touched the ground with her four inch black heels.  As she rose to her feet, she felt slightly embarrassed as her skirt slid up above her  voluptuous  white thighs.  Quickly shaking her bottom and adjusting herself, she found herself staring at the valet, who was standing at attention sporting a boyish wide grin.

“Good morning Miss Hartley” he said excitedly.

Across town in Manhattan Beach, Logan rubbed his bare toned chest and poured out his first cup of morning coffee.  Running his hand through his messy hazelnut hair and letting out a yawn, he entered his wood floored living room overlooking the Pacific Ocean.  He paused to take an extra long look at the skyline.  Today was a precious day.  A rare day.  One that he could enjoy at home before having to jet off to his next professional volleyball tournament in Hawaii. 

Placing his cup down on the curved glass end table, Logan noticed two women roaming the beach in the distance.  One of them was wearing a red bikini and had a curved posterior – a devastating combination.  Aroused, he slid his hand down his blue satin
Quiksilver board shorts and started to please himself.  But the thought ran through his mind that it might be better to have the real thing.  After all, it had been a full week and a half since he last had been with the waitress in Denver. 

  Reaching for his phone, Logan cycled through the endless list of names stored in his iPhone
blackbook.  “Hmmm no, no, no” he thought as he did a quick mental profile of the few women he could actually remember.  He then landed on a name that intrigued him.

Chaste Hartley

It sounded demure, professional.   Sitting down on his white leather couch, Logan ran a quick Google search and pulled up a webpage that read:

“Chaste Hartley– Legal Clerk – Meyers, Guthrie, Murphy LLC.”
 

He scrolled down with his thumb and read her brief resume before coming to a small picture.  An innocent looking blonde girl with slightly cherub cheeks and emerald green eyes stared back at him. 

Sitting down on his white leather couch with phone in hand, Logan ran highlight reels in his mind to see where he had met Chaste.  She definitely wasn’t the typical girl he’d see at the bars near his volleyball tournaments.  After about thirty seconds of staring at Chaste’s picture, he remembered.  It was the way her head was innocently tilted to the right side.

They met years ago when he helped coach a summer volleyball clinic at UCLA.  After finishing one of the late afternoon classes, he bumped into her as she finished her workout at the campus gym
near by.  She was young and had no idea who he was.  In fact, during their brief conversation, she mentioned that she had never played volleyball in her life.  Nonetheless, she still gave him her number and he told her he’d call her to meet at the campus union sometime soon for coffee.  Of course, he never called because at the time, his life was a runaway freight train of games, parties and girls.  But looking back, he wished he had.  And he wondered what would happen if he texted her now.

Chaste’s
heels clicked loudly across the marble as she rushed through the lobby and into the elevator.  Getting off on the fifteenth floor, she walked through the grey colored hallway and arrived in front of the large double doors of her law firm.  Swiping her keycard, she stumbled into the entrance foyer and was greeting by Greta, the auburn haired secretary sitting in her usual position behind the front desk.

“Well good morning” said Greta, not looking up from her computer.

“Good morning” said Chaste, avoiding eye contact and heading straight for her office.

“Oh Chaste, you have some mail here.”

Stopping short, Chaste turned around and took her mail.

“Late night?” inquired Greta nosily.

“Oh, no, just got caught up in some traffic this morning”

“Hmm funny, I didn’t notice any when I came in”

“Anything else?”

“What?” Greta said looking up.

“Any other mail for me?”

“Oh.  That’s all you have. 
But one more thing.  The partners are all out downtown at a deposition this morning until noon.”  Under her breath, Greta added, “I guess you got lucky.”

Chaste ignored the last comment and headed back to her office.  Although she was annoyed by Greta, as usual, she was content in knowing that she would have some quiet time until the afternoon. 

Reaching her desk and opening her laptop, Chaste situated herself to start her day.  She opened a folder on her desk, plugged in her cell phone, and wiped off a few leftover brownie crumbs into a small wastebasket.  She then sat down in her chair and placed her head in her hands while taking a long gaze outside the window. 

Her mind began to drift to a vacation in Paris, but she was startled by a gentle
bing and buzz from her phone.  She half smiled as she expected a sweet message from her fiancé Chad, who was an investment banker currently on assignment in New York City.  But to her surprise, the message was from an unknown number. 

The little green bubble on the screen read; “Hey :)”.

She didn’t know why, but she blushed and felt a jolt of electricity run through her body.

Who could have written this message?  By the brevity and tone of the one word text, it was certainly from a guy. 
But who?  The text messages from random men stopped years ago after she got into a serious relationship and deleted half her phonebook.  She wondered if she should text back. 

“Of course I can’t,” she thought. 

But as she looked at Chad’s picture, a certain memory popped into her mind.  A few months after they began seriously dating, Chaste found out that Chad had cheated on her with one of his exes while he was drunk at a wedding.  It was almost the end of the relationship, but Chad won back her heart and had been on his best behavior in the three years since.  In fact, he was the best boyfriend she had ever had.  He was considerate, caring and took care of her in every way.

But the fact remained that he had cheated and Chaste always held onto a bit of that episode.  Instead of repressing the memory, she kept it as sort of a “get out of jail free” card.  She never intended to use it, but someday, you never know.
Maybe.  Just maybe.                 

Another text buzzed through her phone as she was holding it.

“Remember me?  Logan Stevens”

A rush of adrenaline sent her heart pumping.  Who was Logan Stevens?  Should she answer? She couldn’t.  Her phone buzzed again.

“You probably don’t remember, but we met a few years ago at UCLA outside the gym.

“Sorry I never called, but I really liked your style.”

“Anyways, I’m on tour now, playing volleyball.  I have one day in town before I’m off to my next tournament.

“Would you like to meet?”

Chaste’s mind went running a million miles an hour.  Her conscious mind thought “Who is this random guy texting me for a daytime hookup?”  She threw her phone down on her desk in disgust.  However, after biting her thumbnail and looking at it for a while, she could not help but be intrigued.  The situation was perfect.  She was alone in a beautiful office.  Her boyfriend was away for the next two weeks.  And, she was horny.  So horny. 

She picked up the phone again and noticed her hands were trembling.  Yes, she loved Chad.  Yes, she was happy.  Yes, her career was off to a good start and she had everything she wanted.  But still she yearned for something more.  She moved both thumbs and typed out the fastest text of her life.

“1520 Century City Blvd. 15th Floor.  Come by now.  We have until noon.” 

Logan could not believe what he was seeing on his phone.  He spit out a bit of his coffee and stumbled backwards onto his French bulldog who let out a healthy bark.  He then texted back; 

“I’m on my way”

Since there was no time to really get dressed, he quickly threw on a pair of crumpled shorts and a loose fitting white cotton shirt.  Getting into his yellow Mustang GT convertible, he blasted out of his driveway with a mist of white smoke trailing from his tires.  Taking a shortcut through back streets, he blew a few stop signs as he made his way onto the entrance of the highway.  He then weaved through cars with purposeful abandon and thought about what actually would happen when he met Chaste.  Would they simply chat a bit?  Have a cup of coffee?  Or perhaps…do something more?

He glanced over at the clock on his dashboard and it read 10:15 am. 

He remembered
Chaste’s text that read “We have until noon.” 

Logan began to perspire as he knew at the current pace of traffic; he’d never make it in time.  Turning his wheel to the left, he crossed 2 lanes and two sets of double yellow lines and landed in the carpool lane.  He looked in his rearview mirror and noticed a set of police lights far in the distance.

Pacing in her office, Chaste thought nervously as her rational side began to pose questions.  Should she just text back and call the whole thing off?  Was he really going to show up?  What if the partners got back to the office before 12?

With the clock ticking however, she decided that the best thing to do was to follow through and make this happen.  Knowing herself, she would stay with Chad for the rest of her life and never leave him.  As such, this was a rare, perhaps once in a lifetime opportunity that
she had to both let go of her “Chad cheated card” and also satisfy her desire.

She went into
the offices of the partners, Guthrie, and opened the mini fridge in the corner.  Being from Kentucky, he always kept two bottles of bourbon on hand for his afternoon pick me up.  Grabbing a bottle of Jack, she unscrewed the cap and took a swig without pouring it into a cup.  It burned her throat as it went down.  The second swig was actually a bit easier and she was able to drink the equivalent of three shots.

She wiped her mouth and then went into Guthrie’s private bathroom.  Looking at herself in the mirror, she undid her hair and then pulled it back.  She then dabbed the sweat from her face and neck.  Overall, she looked as prepared and professional as she did when she arrived in the office.  But that wasn’t exactly the look she was going for.  

              Chaste ran her hands down the collar of her shirt and then unbuttoned the top button to reveal a bit of her bra and cleavage.  She adjusted her breasts and then sat down on the toilet and removed her nylon stockings.  Walking swiftly back into her office, she opened the bottom drawer of her desk and took out a pair of red pumps.  She kicked off the shoes on her feet and slipped into the more provocative pair, which gave her about another inch in height.  As she sat back down on her office chair and crossed her legs, a slight smile came across her lips.  This was the sexiest she had looked and felt and in a long time.

The valet looked in bewilderment as the yellow Mustang roared into the driveway.  Pulling right up to the valet stand, Logan hopped out of his car and tossed his keys in the air.

“I’ll be about an hour.” He said.

Simultaneously, he handed him a hundred dollar bill to which the valet smiled and joked “I’ll keep it running.”

Walking through the lobby in his loose fitting Birkenstock sandals, he ran into a packed elevator as the doors were closing. He felt the stare of the men and women in business suits.  He fidgeted as he noticed 5 floor lights lit up before his.  After the doors opened and closed at the 5
th
floor, a man tapped him on the shoulder and said “Hey aren’t you Logan Stevens?”

“Great” Logan thought.

“It IS you.  Wow, my son and I watched you on the beach last summer.  That spike to win the championship was amazing.”

Trying to be both polite and dismissive at the same time, Logan replied “Thanks, I really appreciate that.” 

“Can I get a picture?” asked the man.

             
“Absolutely” Logan replied.

             
He then took out his phone, put his arm around Logan, and took an awkward picture.

BOOK: Daytime Encounter (A Short Story)
4.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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