Encounters At The Loft
By: Meena Rose
“Hey you! Over here! Yes you, damn it!” The receptionist hissed urgently.
I approached hesitantly much to her ire. I had no clue what she wanted of me. I had just hopped out of the cab with my satchel in hand and promptly entered the Lobby.
In my mind, I was going to make a beeline to the receptionist and check-in so I could make my meeting. Instead, I found myself looking around taking in the marvelous historic architecture that had been preserved in the Lobby. I would even suggest that that section of the Lobby smelled like the Golden Age.
“Can you move any faster?” the receptionist quipped.
As soon as I got there, she launched into the most unexpected welcome of all. “Finally! Excuse my jumpiness. You must be Ron. Joe, over at The Tribune, said I could have one of his journalist in on the action so long as we split the dough. Understand what you need to do?”
I honestly answered no that I did not but before I could get a word in edgewise and tell her I was not Ron and that I had no affiliation with The Tribune, she grabbed my shoulder and turned me towards the veranda and whispered “See that brunette over there. That’s Callista Dietrich. Yes, Marelene’s great great grand daughter. You need to steal her necklace. You can grab whatever else you want but the necklace comes to me then you get paid.”
I will be completely honest here and tell you I was beyond shocked. I was quite literally astounded and quite taken aback. Two thoughts raced through my mind: call the police and warn Callista of her situation. In the end, I settled on approaching Callista and warning her. I figured the authorities would race over here simply because it was her.
I calmed my now jangled nerves or at least I gave that appearance. I have always been told I had a million dollar smile. I put all my faith in that as I stepped on to the veranda and said to no one in particular “What an amazing view!” I followed this with an immediately deep inhalation as my eyes surveyed the scene.
Only two of the people turned around to look at me. And, yes, one of them was Callista. Timing was everything. I actually caught her eye as she was looking back at me. I deepened my smile and surprised her with a wink. She smiled back and I knew I was “in”.
I walk over to her and we exchanged fairly banal pleasantries as I struggled with how to articulate the danger she was in. In a way, she was already looking quite nervous and downright fidgety.
“Hey there, is something wrong? You look a bit unsettled,” I ventured.
She turned around to completely face me and I was immediately taken in by her elegant swan like movement. I was so focused on studying the tilt of her head that I almost missed the words which she spoke next “Nothing’s really wrong. I am just wondering if I am about to make a big mistake. I mean, he has not shown up yet. I can just pack up and leave.”
That is awkward was my immediate thought. Guiltily, I quickly remembered that I was meeting my love, my valentine. Well to be quite frank, we had been doing the Facebook thing. Funny how that goes, I found her commenting on a friend of a friend’s page. We started chatting, her and I, coyly at first not sure and uncertain of where the next step will lead. We arranged a meet up at The Loft.
No strings attached. If the chemistry works then great otherwise we will erect the Facebook wall between us and move on.
“Interesting that you should say that. I am here to meet a lady friend. She is not here either,” I offered.
Looking at her nervously wind her scarf about her fingers only to rapidly unfold them and begin again, I could not resist succumbing to my craft and my trade. I hastily retrieved my notebook and pen. I had to capture this magnificent beauty in verse. The need was high and it coursed through my veins. The rush of blood in my ears drowned out the world. There was only her.
Blues eyes reflecting sunlight,
You shine so bright, your light captivates,
Your heart’s perceived plight begs more insight.
Why would you not give love a chance?
Has it burned you, scarred you, harmed you perchance?
How about a night of romance?
I was about to carry on with my verse when a gusted of wind scattered my papers about. Next thing I knew, we were both chasing after the flitting papers. The rescue now complete, she approached me as she straightened some of those papers out.
“Wait just one minute! Jameson Kent! You mean, you are Jameson Kent?” She asked. She was standing so close now. A ream of poems was the only think keeping us apart.
Overwhelmed, I took a step back. “I am surprised you recognize my name. I am not that widely published.” Suddenly uncomfortable, I looked over my shoulder and began to calculate the quickest exit to take as soon as I tell her about the lurking danger.
“Stop being silly, Jameson. I always thought it would make more sense for everyone if you just went by James or Kent or …”
“Even Fred,” I completed the sentence for her. There she was standing before me, the very lady friend I set out to meet. Breathless, I asked in a whisper “Alli? Alli Collins is that really you?”
She nodded and smiled and closed the gap. Standing this close to the woman my muse has serenaded for five months was heady experience. My smile faded as my voice cracked “Alli. Who are you really? The receptionist is convinced you are Callista Dietrich.”
There it was. A wall. A barrier. A thing of ice and rock where mere heartbeats ago it crackled with excitement and potential.
“Look, I am sorry. I have no clue what is going on here. All I know is that as long as the receptionist thinks you are Callista Dietrich, she will try to send someone after you to rob you.” I stammered as I added the following words hoping she would listen “I heard her say those words.”
I swallowed and gathered my things. Quietly, I turned around and started to walk towards the exit.
“Jameson, wait!” She called out desperation tinting her voice. I looked over my shoulder to see her smile and say “Let’s blow this joint.”
Now class, I hope you can appreciate just how charmed my life has been. Who is ready to write about Love or better yet, woe a Love?
- I Would Do Anything For Love Or So The Song Goes (2voices1song.com)
- Flash Write Fridays – Saturday Edition (2voices1song.com)
- Flash Write Fridays: Serving Up Liquid Courage In The Kitchen (2voices1song.com)
- Flash Write Fridays: Sitting on the Edge (2voices1song.com)
- Flash Write Fridays: Pathways to Redemption (2voices1song.com)
- Flash Write Fridays: Forever Blowing Bubbles (2voices1song.com)