The SoapBoxers

Why Not?

January 28, 2011

kosmo - See all 763 of my articles

In today’s fiction story, our hero Dylan finds himself falling for a beautiful stranger … and one thing leads to another …

“Oh, there you are!”

Dylan glanced up from his martini as the woman slid into the opposite side of the booth. He immediately knew that he had never seen this woman before. It was apparent that her heritage was mostly Hawaiian, with a touch of something else. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the end result was a strikingly beautiful young woman. Dylan definitely would have remembered her.

He was about to tell her that he was not the man she was looking for. Then he thought the better of it. Why not spend a night in her company? There were certainly worse ways to kill time on a business trip. He kept his mouth shut and returned her smile.

The waiter noticed the new arrival and dropped by the table.

“I’ll have what my friend is having,” she said. “A martini. Shaken, not stirred.”

Dylan had to laugh at the fairly decent Bond impression. The waiter returned in a flash with the drink before disappearing again – hopefully for good.

As she sipped the drink, the woman spoke softly under her breath. “We can’t talk shop,” she explained. “There may be people watching. Just act natural – like we’re a real couple.”

As her hand stroked his, he heard her pump drop to the floor a moment before her foot began an ascent up his leg. Dylan wasn’t sure what her game was … and wasn’t sure he cared.

“Check, please,” he said with a grin.

She gulped down the last of her martini and began to leave, pulling him behind. Dylan quickly threw some bills on the table as they exited the hotel bar.

“I need to visit the little girl’s room,” she explained. “Could you hold my purse?” Under her breath, she said “It’s good cover.”

Dylan smiled at the comment as he watched her disappear into the rest room. Cover, indeed. As if they were spies on some sort of secret mission. He wondered if her elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor, or if she was just toying with him in some sort of perverse fantasy. This would have been a great opportunity to escape. He could just toss the handbag on the floor and flee to his room.

Or he could hang around a bit longer to see what developed. Why not play the game a bit longer?

When she emerged from the ladies room, the doorman spotted her and smiled.

“Ah, Miss Amy. Big plans for the evening?”

“A romantic evening with my beau, Charles. Would you mind calling me a cab?”

“Of course, Miss Amy. You lovebirds have a good time. Good to finally see you, master Gerald.”

As Charles waived down a taxi, Dylan felt butterflies in his stomach. Beau? Romantic evening? He was fairly sure this was going to be the end of the game – she would jump in the cab and leave him behind.

“Alfred’s on 18th,” she told the cabbie. As the taxi pulled away from the curb, Amy leaned in close and kissed him on the lips. Dylan was a bit surprised by the passion she exuded, but found himself responding with great fervor.

“Oh Gerald,” she whispered into his ear, “I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel and have my way with you.”

Dylan felt himself flush with embarrassment, and noticed that the cabbie’s attention was split between the road in front of him and the passengers in the back seat. He wondered if it would be poor form to suggest simply skipping dinner entirely. He also wondered who this Gerald chap was. Gerald was certainly missing out on a good time.

The taxi arrived at their destination far too soon, and Dylan had to disentangle himself from Amy in order to get out of the cab.

Alfred’s was a classy joint, and Dylan knew that he had spotted the scam. A bit of playing around with him was going to net Amy a very nice meal. Dylan knew that he was being conned, but decided to play along. He was being entertained by the charade, and it was a pleasant way to spend an evening in a new city. His bank account could handle one extravagant meal.

Dylan sipped his wine and waited for Amy to take the lead in the conversation – not willing to admit that he had absolutely no idea what topics might be of interest to her. Amy turned the conversation toward the entertainment, and they discussed the latest Hollywood movies while they ate their salads.

The waiter brought the check when Dylan had finished his generous slab of prime rib. To his surprise, Amy quickly grabbed it and paid with her credit card. As they left the restaurant, Amy suggested that they stroll back to the hotel. As they walked past the storefronts hand in hand, Dylan once again tried to solve the puzzle – what was Amy up to?

“Let’s just go back to the room and watch some TV, hon. You must be tired from your trip.”

Dylan nodded his agreement, and they entered the elevator. As the elevator rose toward the ninth floor, Amy wrapped her arms around him and gazed lovingly into his eyes. Dylan was completely oblivious to the people who got on the elevator on the fourth floor – he was completely lost in her kisses … and she smelled so nice!

Dylan followed Amy as she walked down the hallway toward her room. The suite wasn’t opulent, but was quite nice – definitely a step above his own room. Amy disappeared into the bathroom for a moment. When she reappeared, she was wearing a black nightgown that didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. She slid under the covers and invited Dylan to join her. He stripped down to his boxers and slid into bed next to her.

This was all a bit strange, but very nice. What’s the worst that could happen? Well, maybe he’d wake up with missing kidneys … but that didn’t really happen, did it?

After a moment of channel surfing, they found a decent comedy and settled in for the show. Toward the end of the movie, Dylan notice that Amy was no longer laughing. She was sound asleep in the bed. Again, this was a golden opportunity to escape back to normalcy. Dylan turned off the bedside lamp … and then climbed back into bed, gave the sleeping woman a goodnight kiss, and settled in for a good night’s sleep.

“Gerald, Gerald. You need to get up or you’ll be late for your meeting.”

Dylan glanced at the clock. It was 6:13 AM on Sunday. The pre-conference meet-and-greet didn’t begin until 5 PM. He didn’t need to be up for hours. Maybe it was a mistake to hand over a day of his life to this beautiful stranger.

Then Amy beckoned him toward the shower and the doubts disappeared. He could feel his excitement growing.

“Not now, honey. Tonight, when the meeting is over.”

As the water heated their bodies, she began to speak softly.

“The sound of the shower should make it impossible for the bugs to pick up what we’re saying. I got a green light on the operation. The keys on the desk are to a black Lincoln in the parking lot. There’s a duffel bag in the trunk that has everything you need. When you’re finished, meet me at gate 54 at the airport at 5 PM. I have been instructed to accompanying you on the flight and stay with you in the safe house until the heat is off. Do you have any questions?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he found himself saying. Plan? What plan?

“Good. Now, wash my back. And start singing something.”

Dylan sang a mediocre version of “I love a rainy night,” while he worked slowly at the job of washing Amy’s back. Regretfully, he finally finished the job and stepped out of the shower and toweled off.

Forty minutes later, he was dressed in a crisp white dress shirt and khakis. They weren’t his clothes, but they were a perfect fit. Amy stood before him in a frilly, low-cut white blouse and a very short skirt. Absolutely stunning.

“How do I look?” she asked.

Dylan blushed, fearing that she had caught him staring.

“Uh, good. Fine.”

“Good?”

“Beautiful, actually.”

“That’s more like it.”

When they arrived at the lobby, Amy had the doorman call her a cab.

“Have fun at your meeting, honey. I know I’m going to have a great time shopping.”

Dylan feigned dismay. Amy gave him a quick kiss and ran out to the taxi. As it disappeared, Dylan looked at the keys in his hand.

A black Lincoln with a duffel bag. Was it time to finally walk away? In for a penny, in for a pound, he decided. Besides, he was curious.

Dylan sat in the front seat of the car and pawed through the contents of the bag. The top page detailed the Sunday routine of a “subject”. A half dozen photographs pictured a man in a variety of poses. Dylan thought that he recognized the man.

There was also some money in the bag. A great deal of it, actually. At least couple hundred thousand dollars. Then, finally, the gun. The pieces quickly clicked into place.

Dylan was in over his head. It was definitely time to walk away. Time to walk away from the gun, away from the money, away from Amy. He would check into a different hotel, attend his boring conference, and fly back to Omaha at the end of the week. This was a type of excitement he didn’t need.

Dylan left the duffel bag on the seat, opened the door, and quickly walked away from the honey trap that had been set for him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he strolled down the street.
  
  
  
 
Dylan checked his watch again. Then he saw her out of the corner of his eye, clutching plane tickets in her hand. As a plane roared overhead, he felt himself captivated by her beauty once again.

Fiction Friday