It's like a well run dry, my internal drought because nothing is sparking an interest. So, instead of driveling for however many words, I'm going to post a set of flash pieces I wrote in the past two weeks.
One Helluva Day
“What do you mean it’s been
canceled?”
“What I said, it’s been canceled.”
“But…” Kayla thought she might
faint. Her big gold star, the eighty million dollar account, had imploded. All
that remained of pride and excitement was dispersing dust. “Why?”
“They’re going with Jenners-Conway.
I don’t know why, but that’s what they said.”
The phone line hummed but neither of
them spoke while reality settled like a dead weight around her shoulders.
After what felt like an hour she
finally accepted it. She took a long deep breath, slowly released it. “Okay,
Ben. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Sorry it’s not good news, luv, but
I wanted to let you know soon as possible.”
“Yeah, I appreciate that, thanks.
I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Sure, bye.”
She set the phone down gently,
instead of doing what she wanted to do and hurl it through the plate glass
window that framed the city skyline. Her head settled onto her hands and, for
the first time since she could remember, she thought she might just cry.
It had been one helluva day.
The train into the City that morning
had broken down. Her mobile was on the fritz and the battery didn’t hold a
charge. She intended to get a new one but, no matter the excuse or how
reasonable, she had missed her nine o’clock conference call with the CEO.
Apologies aside, that was not a good start to the morning.
Then Paula, her best friend, called
from the hospital. She’d been in an accident. It was nothing serious, just
getting checked out, but dinner that evening was off.
When she tried to call Steve to tell
him she was free that evening, not tied up as she’d thought when he’d suggested
dinner in town, he’d been in an impatient rush, under a deadline and short. Now
this.
With a groan she sat up again,
swiveled toward the view, and just sat. The clock on the building three blocks
away showed ten past four. Determined to put an end to it all, she stood up,
grabbed her purse and coat and whirled out of her office.
“I’m going home. If anyone’s looking
for me, tell them I slit my wrists but will be back tomorrow.”
Kit, the receptionist did a
double-take and then offered a half I-hope-you’re-joking smile while Kayla
pounded the call button for the elevator.
The trip home was smooth, but that
was small consolation. A pleasant evening had imploded, too.
Pulling up to the house two hours
after leaving her office was joyless. All the windows were dark meaning Steve
was probably working late, figuring she wouldn’t be there, anyway.
The garage door rumbled and thunked
closed behind her. Inside, she flipped on the light and stopped, staring.
“What the…”
Steve’s belt lay on the floor. Not
the pants, just the belt. A few feet farther was a shoe, then a sock. She
followed the trail, down the hall. Around the corner was the other shoe and
sock. His tie hung over the newel post. His shirt lay on the stairs. A pant leg
lay draped around the corner to the upstairs hallway.
Despite the trials of her day, Kayla
smiled as she started to climb.
Upstairs, the bedroom light flooded
out into the hall. Inside, the bed had been turned down. From the bathroom came
the sound of music, mildly echoing off the tile surfaces. Her heart was full to
overflowing when she turned the corner. It tipped and spilled when she caught
sight of him.
Candles reflected in the mirror,
offering the only light. Suds lapped at the very edge of the tub, partially
covering his chest and hiding the rest of his lower body. White wine rested in
a cooler that sat on the floor, and a Vivaldi mandolin concerto came from the
CD player on the counter.
“Welcome home, Kaylove.”
* * * * *
Steve’s leg was across her hips, his
arm draped between belly and shoulders, warming her naked breast. Like a humid
wind, his breath ruffled her hair.
For a moment, before consciousness delivered
the memory of her lost client, she was relaxed, sated.
Then Ben’s phone call
intruded.
Damn.
She moved to kiss Steve’s forehead. It was just too hot for this.
“Mmph.” His brow creased in
irritation and his head curled down an inch.
“Morning, love.” She followed,
enough to nuzzle his scalp. “Let me up, will you? I need to pee.”
He moved, slithering his arm off and
pushing himself into a sitting position to squint at the clock. “Wha time zit?”
“Early, I didn’t look.”
He ran his hand over the dark
stubble that had sprouted. “Six, about, guess the alarm’ll…”
The insistent buzz interrupted him.
Kayla rolled and half-crawled over to shut it off, then crawled back and into
his lap, kissing his jaw, then his cheek.
“Thank you for last night. It was
lovely.”
He smiled and pulled her hair. “You
needed it.” Leaning in for another kiss, he said, “You deserve it and I wish I
could give it to you again, but duty calls.”
She smiled against his lips.
“There’s the shower. We could save a little water.”
Three hours later she stepped off
the elevator, into the lobby of her office. Kit was there, on the phone. They
smiled and Kayla strode across the floor, down the aisle to her office.
Temporary setback or no, she had other contacts and other companies to
approach.
After making phone calls and leaving
messages, answering e-mails and writing a few of her own, she walked down the
hall to the kitchen.
“Morning, Ben.” Opening the cabinet,
she got her cup, the tea and started the kettle.
“Hey, how are ya? Sorry about the
bad news, yesterday.”
“I won’t say it’s not disappointing
but –” she shrugged “– I’ve decided it’s okay. They were snarky before we
signed the deal so I hate to think what they’d be like to work with. It was
like they own the world and everyone in it.”
“Still, that was a big opportunity.”
“Yeah, it was. I need to call Robert
and tell him. He’s not going to be happy.”
“Is he ever?”
Back at her desk that afternoon, her
phone rang. It was Steve. He had an idea but wouldn’t tell her what it was.
“This weekend?” She spun her chair
so the back was to the hallway. No one needed to see her smiling like this.
“We’ll leave Friday afternoon, early,
and get back Sunday.”
“Where are we going?”
“That’s part of the surprise.”
“What shall I pack?”
“I’ll give you a list but it won’t
help because I’m going to say sweaters and t-shirts and dress clothes and
everything I can think of – one of each.”
A trill of excitement flicked
through her, causing her to shiver. “God, it sounds wonderful.”
“It will be. I’ll see you tonight.”
For two days she pestered him but he
wouldn’t tell her his plans.
Grinning like an idiot in
anticipation, she left work on Friday afternoon and walked the two blocks to
the Ferry Building. He’d e-mailed her that afternoon, ‘four o’clock to
Larkspur.’
It was perhaps an hour before sunset
when he pulled to the side of the road. “Do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Wear this.” He held up a satin
sleep mask.
Surprised, it took a beat before she
held out her hand. Once it was on, the car moved.
“If I get sick it’s your fault.”
“Just lay the seat back and relax.
We’ll be there soon.”
Perhaps fifteen minutes later, if
she’d had to guess, the car slowed and turned to the left, bumped and started
downhill. Tempted, she forced her hands to remain in lap. The car stopped.
“I’ll be right back.”
She smiled, suspecting but not
knowing, and having no idea where they were, except it was in the boonies north
of San Francisco.
Her door opened a few minutes later.
Taking her hands, he helped her sit up.
“Keep the mask on. It’ll make the surprise better.”
On her feet, she let him guide her
tentative steps, across pavement, onto a path with plants stroking her legs,
along an echoing outside hallway. His grip tightened down the flight of stairs
between two walls that made their steps echo. Along another path and they
paused. She heard a key in a lock and the door open. ‘Hotel scent’ breathed out
and he led her in.
The door closed, “Wait, we’re almost
there. Slip off your shoes.”
Excited, nervous, she did, and then
he led her across the space.
“It’s a spiral staircase. Here,” he
put her hands on the smooth rail and center post. “Plenty of room, you won’t
bump your head. I’ll be right behind you.”
At the top it was warm, humid. He
pressed close. His hands moved to the zipper of her dress but he didn’t speak.
“What are you doing?” Her voice
echoed.
“Shh.” He paused. His hair brushed
her chin as his lips touched her breast and his fingers found his head. “God
you taste good.”
“Mm, you feel good.” Her hands knew
where he was.
“Ready? Here we go.” He guided her,
stopped her, gripped her arms to steady her. “Step up and then be careful.”
Her foot skimmed hard plastic, found
warm water, warm like a womb and she smiled as she slipped lower, bringing her
other foot over the edge of the hot tub.
Settled, his naked body tucked
against hers, he said, “Now.”
Peeling the mask away revealed a
Pacific sunset – pearl and peach, teal and indigo gilded by the setting sun.
Nothing intruded. The water, tub and windows framed the world, the rest was
ocean and sky.
“It’s like flying!”
Have a lovely day!
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
No comments:
Post a Comment