The team had left, with Gerald and I sitting alone in the conference room. We had just hung up from a conference call with our biggest client.
"It looks like everyone else is, too." I said, feeling a little forlorn.
"They decided to go to sushi. They all know you don't like sushi." Gerald said with a chuckle.
"It doesn't mean I don't want to be invited. C'mon." I grimaced, but mostly to myself.
"You should go watch a movie. Do something more than mope. You know I'd be here for you otherwise." He gave a sad little look, stood and slapped my shoulder.
"Yeah. I'll work on that."
I went and sat down in the conference room chair and spun around, feeling the sensations tug at me, pulling me in all directions—ever so gently.
I spent a moment, revelling in distant memory. Tonight was the second anniversary of my divorce. Something I couldn't help but feeling shame revisiting. My childhood sweetheart had said she didn't love me, but only after I had shown her that I had all but forgotten about her. Everyone knew her and loved her. I did, too, but it was long gone. Everyone held some resentment toward me: co-workers, neighbors, even my best friend, Gerald.
I looked across the street. The historical hotel is a lovely old building with a shady history. Built back in in the 1920s or some-such. There was a deep history around this area, being a travel hub for those going to and coming from the various war fronts in the early to mid-1900s. This used to be a rowdy town. There was still a residue that lingered as you moved through the historical sections of the city.
I perused the windows, each had curtains that were uniformly open; probably a hands width across. My eyes flitted among the windows until I saw movement. My heart skipped a beat and I felt flush. A woman walked up to the window, barely visible against the darkness of the room behind her. Her hair cropped short, but obscuring her eyes. But it was her body; alabaster white, pristine. Even at this distance, she was almost luminescent pale. Her belly button was just barely visible. Her breasts were hidden by the curtains.
I was caught by the intensity. Her eyes. Even if I couldn't see them, but I could feel them. Desire. Passion. Intensity. A force pushed into me, holding me hostage. I slipped the bonds of monotony and found myself reaching toward her. Wanting to touch her; to feel her skin.
"Robert?"
I was back in the real world. Fiery ecstasy traced it's fingers down my cheek and pressing a hand over my racing heart. He had poked his head into the conference room.
"I'm heading out now," Gerald looked puzzled, "You OK?"
"I'm fine; just thinking over the numbers," I said, not thinking over the numbers.
"Sure," he snuffled in a sort of laugh, "We got this quarter in the bag," He, again, gathered more papers that he had been reviewing on the conference call.
"We sure do," I said wistfully. "That hotel across the way is still open, isn't it?"
"Yup, full service. I've booked a client there once or twice. Nobody's complained yet."
"Huh." I shrugged, feeling a bead of sweat trace down my back under my button down shirt.
I felt sheepish. I glanced through the window again tracing my eyes along the hotel windows, feeling almost ashamed at my behavior. The classic styling was much more distinct than other hotels, but I couldn't tell which window I saw the woman in. I was still reeling, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience.
"I'll see you next week." He said as he moved out of the conference room and across the office to the exit. He pushed through, looking back, nodding at me through the conference room window. The sound of the motion detector clicked off as he left and the electronic locks re-engaged.
I moved back to my desk and put my feet up. Wondering how I would celebrate the night. I felt anxious and needed an outlet, but the stayed, leaning back into the fine leather office chair.
* * *
I woke in my office chair, heart racing—memories, a chill, the woman, a touch. Recollection was a blur and I shook it off. I had dozed off and the sun was now setting. The heat on the West windows permeated the office while the air conditioning shut off. I moved into the conference room, away from the temperature as the sun dipped below the horizon.
I was downtown, it would be easy to do anything close by: bars, restaurants, movies, anything. But no, it wasn't worth the heartache. Everything local was something I had done with her. I would just amplify the sense of loss.
I spun in the large leather chairs in the cool of the room. Then, with a halfhearted hope I began again with the search for her.
Her.
I shuddered. Felt my pulse rise again. Knowing that the moment I had early was so incredibly futile. Yet, I persisted, distancing myself from painful memories. Twilight rose with the darkening sky, stars began to appear and I stared from the dark conference room.
I was acting the voyeur.
Who knew what couples were lingering in the rooms tonight. I felt despicable. I passingly reminded myself that I had no self respect anymore, so where's the problem? I knew what the problem was: there was a gaping void that consumed whatever it could. A black hole of a heart, raging away in—
There she was. Even more faint to where I could barely see her above the dark of the room. Lights reflected from the street shone off of her bare midriff accenting the slight concave curve to her belly button. Her hand was pressed to the window. An overwhelming ache rose within me almost convulsively. I stared on, feeling both ashamed and invisible in the darkness of the conference room.
I couldn't see her face, though. Again, I wondered if she looked down at the people moving through the summer night. The freedom of being exposed yet unseen. I felt the same protection, mirrored windows being invisible to those on the street. Nearly an hour passed as I watched her, barely blinking. She didn't move.
My heart slowly sped, my body more in tune than my busy mind. The longer I watched, the more aware I became. She was looking at me; even while I was cloistered in mirrored glass and darkness. The awareness sparked that renewed longing. The need for connection to another. It stirred instinct as deep as the first-fruits of human ancestry. The need to fill this endless void that consumed me.
It was impossible that she could see me, which rudely interrupted this rising need. I stood and placed my hand on the window, still invisible to the outside world. I remained for what felt like eternity; watching, waiting for a sign.
She moved, almost imperceptibly, putting both hands on the window. Her breasts were exposed in the reflected blues and ambers shining up from the street lights. Her nipples impossibly dark against the pale skin. Her straight cut hair obscured her eyes, but not the full black lips that, even at this distance, it appeared to be curled slightly into a half smile. I ached with depthless need. Something that stretched beyond the bonds of body and set the soul afire.
I panicked, terrified that I'd lose my chance; my moment of fulfillment after so much pain. I counted the windows up and over. I felt the heat from the main office engulf me as I walked to the exit. The motion sensors engaged the locks deactivated and I rushed through the hall to the stairway.
I navigated to the corner, impatiently waiting for the lights to change, glancing up at the windows of the hotel, but unable to see clearly from street level. The lobby was a mixture of non-entities. I tried to relax my pace, feeling anxious and exposed. The feeling of falling, but a controlled, deliberate dive to terminus.
I hesitated, then moved toward the elevator. A security guard stopped me and asked to see my room key. I patted my pocket, emphatically and shrugged at him.
"You can't pass without a key." He furrowed his brow as he said it. I turned heel and moved toward the front desk that was, thankfully, just around the corner out of sight of the guard. Anxiety was welling up in me. I felt like my opportunity was fading with each slippery moment.
A young woman, well groomed, attended the counter. She was a little homely, or too young, I couldn't tell what put me off at first glance. She looked up at me with a placidly blank expression on her face, an ability that was well used in the service industry.
"I need a room." I spoke, a little too breathlessly.
"Have you booked with us before?"
"No."
"I need to see your ID. How long will you be staying?" She eyed the address, acknowledging that I lived in town.
"Just the night."
"Do you have any preferences for the room? Smoking, non-smoking?"
God, just get this over with!
"Please, I … non-Smoking. Could I be on the seventh floor?"
"Let's see what I have available. Two fulls? Or a single Queen-sized?"
"Single Queen."
"It doesn't look like we have a Queen available on the floor."
"Just a room on the seventh floor then!" I snapped, then recovered rubbing my forehead, "I'm sorry. Sorry. Just any room on the seventh floor."
She looked me in the eye, hurt. Her eyes glossed slightly showing a crack in the facade.
"How will you be paying?" She said, her voice sharpened with the hurt in her eyes.
I held my credit card ready, pushing it to her anxiously. She shook her head and rolled her eyes unconsciously as she swiped the card. I could see the inaudible monologue in her head, but I didn't care. I didn't care at all. She handed me my ID and credit card back along with the magnetic striped key card.
"There. Here are your room key cards. Check out is at noon tomorrow."
"Sorry, yes. Thank you." I bowed slightly and backed away from the desk.
I was a mess of emotions. I kept my eyes downcast, glancing up as I waved my key and the security guard nodded slightly. I moved into the bank of elevators.
Seventh floor.
I walked into the narrow hallway of the old hotel. Door after door stretched on ahead of me down both directions. She was here, she was on this floor. I went to my room and flipped on the lights. The bathroom was first, and then two full beds sat looking uncomfortable and very far apart.
I moved to the window and looked down at the street and across to my office building. It was newer, more squat; a modern building with an antique facade. The energy saving windows were hyper-reflective, showing only the reflection of the hotel as I stared down where I had sat just minutes earlier.
A chill ran up my spine. I swallowed hard, but the longing had not released it's grip. I was breathless, heart racing. I couldn't shake her image reflecting my longing for connection. I glanced I moved down the hallway, listening at doors.
I gulped, my mouth dry. I was so unprepared. A beautiful woman behind one of these doors and I, little more than a blubbering fool. Seeking her. Desiring her. Wanting her. The hallways weren't air conditioned, so they were unseasonably warm in this stuffy old building. The heat was getting to me again. I was burning up.
I knocked at the door, wiping at my forehead. Feeling an old fool. I was breathless. I waited, hearing nothing. A woman who had delivered room service emerged from the bank of elevators. I knocked again and she stopped and looked at me.
"Did you get locked out?" She said with a little incredulity while she glanced at the room number.
"No, I …" I hesitated, "I'm supposed to meet someone here."
"Not in there. 707? No one is ever in there." She shrugged.
"What do you mean?" I said, sounding far too desperate.
"Just rumors, but I can tell you that that room is never used." She nodded at the door emphatically.
"You know," she said with a pregnant pause, "I could open that for $20," she looked at me slyly and almost provocatively rubbing her thumb and forefinger at me.
I fumbled for my wallet and pulled out a loose twenty from a bundle of bills. Her eyes widened at the billfold.
"I'll give you this card for," she nodded at the $120 some-odd dollars, "... all of that."
Money meant so little to me. It was unable to save me from this all consuming void of loneliness. I yanked out the bundle of bills and shoved it into her hand. She looked down the hallway both ways and tore the card with the string from the retracting assembly attached to her waist and dropped it on the floor and then continued down the hallway acting as if nothing happened.
I bent down and picked up the card in a fever. I dropped the card in the slot and retracted it, the light turned green and the locks disengaged. The door swung open into a room that was even warmer than the hallway. I fumbled for the lights, but they didn't turn on.
I moved into the room. A queen bed sat folded neatly. There was a slight must in the air. Reflected light glimmered off of a fine layer of dust that spread itself over all the surfaces. There was no TV, no refrigerator; none of the usual amenities in this room.
"Hello?" I whispered into the darkness. After barging in, I can imagine she would have hid herself. Being subtle wasn't one of my strong points.
A chill moved up my spine opposite the sweat coursing down my back. There was no one here, and there hadn't been for a very, very long time. My heart thudded away in my chest with the realization.
I should have felt fear, but I didn't. It pained me further, though. I longed for her. My head was spinning and my body quaked.
Just inside the door, I stood still, collecting myself for a moment, then walked to the window. There were wisps of fog remained, forming the shape of a delicate hand. I put my hand over the foggy print, clasping the chill in my fevered grip.
"Where are you?" I whispered out loud again, but mostly to myself.
She had been a ghostly image looking down on me. On me. No one else. I looked across the way at the mirrored windows of our falsely old building. A welling desire surged within me as I imagined her looking down at me from here.
"Why me?" I leaned my head on the window and absorbed the cool touch of the window. I leaned against the window, looking down on the street, for what felt like an hour. Slowly, over that time, I became aware of a sensation on my back. Soothing strokes, like a soft touch after a hard day. I moved into it, not wanting to turn around. Not wanting to see the source as it was likely to break the moment. But my movement stopped the sensation.
I turned into the room. My heart leapt and began thudding away again. The dark womanly shape in the room was a few steps away from me. I stayed still, stuffing down fear of the unknown conversely related to this feeling of overwhelming desire. She approached again, slowly, and reached a hand out to my face. She hesitated, briefly, and my breath quickened. She traced her fingers down my unshaven cheek and faint eddies of that sensation spun away through my skin, but I couldn't actually feel her touch.
I reached up to place my hand on hers while, to feel it against my face, she tried to pull away, but my hand passed through her. The dark silhouette faded briefly and she caught her hand and crouched, looking pained. I stepped forward to help, but she put a spread out another dark hand, motioning for me to stay back.
It was a cruel twist. To be brought together, but I was unable to touch her. A gulf that was insurmountable, separated by time, space, dimension; whatever this was. I had never feared death, and, at this moment, I sought to embrace it.
She regained her composure, seeming to draw energy from her surroundings. The air went cool briefly. I remained still, watching her, unsure of what to do next. I moved past her, giving her a wide berth. As I moved, the shadow I cast moved away and the reflected light shone on her and her eyes lit with a fiery preternatural glow. Her shimmering body acted like a prism, her skin and eyes glowing faintly once kissed by light. She looked at me, with desire yet tinged with distrust. A woman who had been hurt many, many times before.
Oh, and was she beautiful. I marvelled at her curved shape; shoulders, hips and breasts aglow in ambers and blues. Her hair was straight, bobbed, and with an angular cut from long in front to short in back. Her eyes were magical, everything she felt so clearly written in them. She looked like a classic pinup from the 20s. Absolutely beautiful.
I sat on the edge of the bed, and she turned toward me. The prismatic effect played in more, as the light played along her backside, her eyes glimmered more fiercely. The shimmering shape of her breasts moved naturally as she stepped forward. She put a hand to my chest, as if pushing me backwards. I scooted backwards on the dusty sheeted mattress, careful not to push through her. I laid back and stayed still as she moved above me, lightly touching the surface of the mattress, leaving no mark or impression as she practically hovered above me.
I stayed still, breathing slowly, which didn't seem to disturb her. She laid on my body, her head to my chest. The shimmering dimmed as she moved out of the reflected street lights. As she descended she faded into a faintly luminescent shadow. I longed to caress her, to ease this gulf between us, but I remained still. She, on the other hand, had moved her arms expertly running up and down my arms, along my cheek, and—while looking me in the eye with the faint glittering mischievousness in her eyes—over my crotch and down my legs.
I was a wired sleepless, her body resting on mine. My eyes traced over her, filled with fascination. Then fatigue pulled at me, forcing me to slip away under her weightlessness. I fell asleep, her wispy body lazing on mine.
* * *
I woke with a start. I felt delirious and parched. The bed was soaked with sweat, but I was dry, feverish. The lights outside were no longer visible with the only hint of there being an outside world were the stars that still lit the night sky. It was as if everything outside, but the void of the night sky, had ceased to exist.
I looked around cautiously, not seeing the form of my nameless love. I creakily pried myself up from the bed, eyes dry and lips cracking. I fumbled for the handle and opened the door into the hallway, the lights were out except for the blaringly bright emergency exit signs humming away as they ran on battery. It took a while for my eyes to adjust, but I noticed the luminescent silhouette of the woman moving ahead of me. The darkness was all consuming, but she moved up to me, reached up and touched my cheek and, exerting a force on me she could barely muster earlier. She pulled me close and whispered breathlessly against my ear.
Come with me. Be with me.
A fevered chill shot through me with the touch, the impression of her voice and the brush of her lips on my ear. I was numb, feeling dazed, but dragged along by desire. She took my hand and I stumbled along. Moving toward the stairway. Her prismatic body blazed with reds and greens as we moved under the exit sign. She turned and looked at me, fire in her eyes.
Flight, after flight, I awkwardly stumbled; weak, but determined. The main lobby was just through the door and I swore that could move no further. There were voices, lights from flashlights moving under the doorway, but I didn't want to go that way. No.
She tugged my hand and moved around to the back where another door stood. The exit sign cast an eerie glow on the more rustic basement door. The door reader was dead. I gave a push to the door and it clicked open—swinging wide—revealing a dark staircase. A flickering yellow glow emanated from below, dancing on the aged wooden stairs.
A raging heat washed over me as a stood at the top of the stairs, I felt the sensation and welcomed it. I licked my parched lips with my raspy tongue. My mind was ablaze already and ringing with a throbbing, dull ache. I weakly gripped the handrail, making my way down the stairs, preceded by the fiery female shape that glowed ahead of me. There, in the center of the room, an old coal fired boiler was stoked and burning fiercely.
She stood in front of the open, raging furnace, in all her naked glory; shimmering like heat itself. My head pounded, blood sloshing thickly through my veins. She turned toward me, eyes ablaze and every curve outlined in a prismatic white against the angry reds and oranges. She opened her arms welcoming.
Come to me.
I moved to her as she mounted the threshold of the monstrous boiler, moving in among the flames. As I moved closer, I felt my blue nylon button up shirt buckle and weld itself to my skin. She was everything I ever wanted. My only thought was to be with her. To touch her. My skin hissed as I grabbed the edge of the boiler and ducked in. I barely felt the heat. I barely felt the pain. I crawled toward her on charring stumps as my vision warped. I could hear the rapid beat of my heart briefly as bright light consumed my vision, turning everything black as the sizzling of blood boiled away in my ears.
I laid down with her and slept.
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