Most of you who know me, also know I dabble in fiction writing. I’ve entered a few short story contests and am still working on my novel. I thought it was time I post some of my work here. Writing is meant to be shared. Hope you enjoy it. Whether you do or whether you don’t, I’d love to know what you think…
He’s Got my Number, A Short Story by Linda Johannesson
“What R U wearing?” The text message was spicier than David’s usual midday interruption. But one thing Meredith could count on was that if it was noon, it was David. Every single day for the past two years, her husband called, sent an email or a text just before or slightly after noon. Receiving the message was no biggie, but today’s subject matter was different. It was down on its knees begging for a response.
Two could play that game. In need of a little relief from the day’s tension, Meredith blocked out work distractions, swiveled her chair around so her back was facing the door and her gaze rested on the glistening harbour view. She could feel the smile lift in her cheeks. She bit lightly on her left lower lip as she contemplated and then tapped out her playful response, “that black lacey thong you like so much” and automatically hit reply.
The response from his end was swift. The inquisition continued. “& the matching bra?”
Sitting taller in her chair her two thumbs were poised and two hands holding her Blackberry, Meredith responded, “of course, u know me EVERYTHING has 2 match.”
It was 12:30 on a Tuesday afternoon and before this little e-flirtation, she had given little thought to anything other than the final rehearsal of her opening for the Lassiter account pitch. In Advertising, it was her sharp attention to detail that served her best. Her rapid rise in the creative world could be traced to her innate ability to sense the precise moment when the winning combination had been struck, when they hit upon it, the gem, the ground-breaking idea, the flawless strategy. She knew it because she felt it – physically felt it, a pleasant but prominent pulsation vibrating through the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t teach it, couldn’t call on it at whim, but she trusted it. She knew it would come through for her. And it did, time and time again.
Today would be exceptional. At 14:00 hours, she and her team would march one by one into the boardroom and take command of it. They were advertising sharpshooters, delivering, with laser accuracy, a pitch that had been rehearsed for five days, word for word, slide by slide, prop by prop, gesture by gesture. The target was in sight and it was Meredith’s job to ensure a direct hit.
In keeping with her meticulous management style, every economic and competitive influence, demographic challenge, product attribute, labeling choice, distribution option, spokesperson, charitable alliance, contest and promotional activity had been brainstormed, evaluated, researched then integrated only when and where they added value to their place within the overall campaign.
The group infused their collective expertise and creative genius to produce the most unique and powerful new product launch this client would ever see. Thanks to the CSI-like actions of the crackerjack research squad, every deciding factor had been identified and accommodated, everything including the individual tastes of both Lassiter’s two key decision makers.
Meredith was proud of the depth and daring of the solution they had constructed. Her tireless team of 12, affectionately known as the ‘Dirty Dozen’, was known for the provocative element that they infused into their campaigns. Not brazen, not vulgar, but addictively seductive. They flirted shamelessly with the ever-changing parameters of good taste and acceptable norms. Their sexy signature sent the industry aflutter. Were they followers? No. Could they be described as ordinary? Never. Were they desired, coveted, pursued and emulated? Yes, yes, yes and yes!
“Brrrrrmmm, Brrrrrmmm” her PDA vibrated across her desk.
“What R U doing now?” the unknown number asked.
Meredith texted back, “about 2 step in2 my big pitch. wish me luck.”
The display lit up again. “You don’t need luck. Go get’em sexy. I’ll B thinking about U.”
“ahhh…you called me sexy!” She grinned as she tapped.
She was still smiling moments later when the next note arrived “I wish I could B there 2 watch U in action – when UR pitching – so strong & confident, articulate, yet sensual & enticing. Very sexy. No wonder clients can’t say no to U. I can’t either.”
She felt the goose bumps rise across her skin. This was the first time this device had invoked a quiver using anything other than the vibrate mode. “thank u for your supportive words, they have touched me deeply…and u know how I love 2 b touched deeply.”
It wasn’t the kind of copy the Dirty Dozen would crank out, but it was real dialogue, playful and positive and reminiscent of their early years together. The talk she had with David the other night about infusing that lost spark back into their marriage had apparently worked. The discussion had been long overdue, in her estimation by about two years. Her unmet cravings for passion had become the norm. She missed the hunger for each other. She grieved for the lost emotional intimacy. She missed the old David and their old relationship. Thankfully her job distracted her, providing her with diversionary coping tactics, but she admitted, if only to herself, that it was not a permanent solution.
Something changed in him a few years ago, right around the time he made partner in his firm. The long hours, the stressful environment, the tough cases had all taken their toll on him. David was no longer the man who had captivated Meredith with his seductive spells of more than a decade ago. His creativity had been replaced by predictability, his unrestrained passion had given way to a series of perfunctory gestures, deep and emotional conversations had been lost to one word responses and passing idle chit chat. Slowly, but undeniably, the chasm between them had widened.
There were only tiny little morsels left of this strapping 6’4” man left to share with Meredith when he returned home at the end of each day. Meredith needed more. She was not sustained by the paltry leftovers.
Thankfully she had her career. Her agency was her trusted dealer and her job gave her the requisite adrenaline rush. It injected her almost daily with a passion fix. Like any addict, she realized that, in time, even that would not be enough.
She left the office, handbag hung over her right shoulder and tucked neatly under her arm. She felt the vibration through it tickle the outline of her right breast just below her underarm. She was torn between enjoying the pleasant sensation and receiving her latest message. Curiosity won.
“How do you think it went?” peeked out at her from the tiny bright screen. She read as she walked the two blocks to meet the gang at their usual haunt. By now, they had already invaded The Luxe and the showers of Moet & Chandon had surely begun.
Hitting reply, Meredith walked and thumbed “we GOT IT…they r so excited & so am i…going 2 celebrate with the gang for a bit”
His flirtations continued, “We’ll have our own celebrations l8r. What special thing can I do for U 2nite? A full body massage? Whip you up a treat from the kitchen? Hand feed you? Or should dinner be on you?”
“i’d love all of the above, but how about you choose. i look forward to learning your decision when I get home… should b around 9”
The gang was ecstatic, dancing, laughing and partying like freshmen living away from home for the first time. Rightfully so, they had earned it. The dozen would have to squeeze every drop of enjoyment out of tonight because the past month merely equated to a screening interview; the hard work had just begun.
The music thumped, the conversations sang out and the laughter punctuated each verse with its catchy refrain. The room was charged. The energy was undeniable.
Meredith circulated the room, champagne in hand, stealing personal moments with each member of her team. Sincere appreciation for their efforts travelled from Meredith’s lips to the ears and hearts of every one of her beloved team members.
She took extra time with Kentin, her second in command. Kentin and Meredith had been the agency’s unbeatable pairing for over five years now. They had a unique connection. He understood her. He challenged, inspired and supported her. He applauded her wins and willingly educated her on those few areas outside of her own expertise. He amused, entertained her and comforted her on those very rare occasions when she required it. And, in return, she was there for him in all the same ways. He was the one person she ultimately trusted. His strength was obvious. His patience, immense and his passion and verve were enviable. He was more an equal than a subordinate. Kentin was the only member of the team that she felt could step into her role and deftly meet its demands. Truth be told, she was sure that he would be far more capable at it than she, but the current arrangement worked well. Although, she doubted that the reverse would.
Kentin deserved a special thank you. So much of the passion that burned through this campaign, originated from him. She had lacked fervor lately and she was grateful for his taking the lead on this project and filling the gap. She grabbed two full flutes from the waiter’s tray and made her way across the room to make a special private toast. She pulled Kentin aside. With a wink, clinked glasses and thanked him for his ideas, his professionalism, his passion and his friendship. In a moment of vulnerability, she also confessed to needing his support this time. They clinked glasses and drank the entire flute holding each others’ gaze. He finished first, placed his glass on the table, then took Meredith’s from her hand and in an uncharacteristic gesture, moved in close, took her face in his hands and kissed her, directly on the lips. The scent of Gucci Envy and cool lips still tasting of champagne pressed against her for far longer than felt comfortable. She was also surprised to find that she was returning the gesture with same force it was delivered.
She broke free. Saying nothing, turned and then made her way to the ladies room and stumbled slightly into the stall. She relived the last few minutes, still feeling the force of Kentin’s kiss. She was surprised by it, but comfortable with it at the same time. She sat and smiled, happily welcoming the glow from the two flutes of liquid gold she had just enjoyed. Feeling somewhat confused, but sassy and invigorated by the win, and perhaps the kiss, she grabbed her link to the outside world and clicked on the last message. From the options, she chose ‘reply’ and tapped, “r u getting hungry? my eta is about an hour”
“Mmm…yum…..I’m licking my lips. I can almost taste it now. And, yes, I’m so very hungry,” came the near immediate response.
A short dance with Smitty, her senior graphic designer, a few Thai shrimp, one more flute of this tasty victory cocktail and a short cab ride were all that stood between her and the main event. Her anticipation grew with every click of the taxi’s meter. She smirked when she realized how ironic it was, that as the cab approached her lovely estate home, the driveway felt so much longer than usual while her breaths were markedly shorter.
Excitement rose and her cheeks flushed as she held the hardness of the polished brass knob in her hand. She opened the mammoth rosewood front door. The lights were low. She slinked through the hall. There was a soft light flickering from the den. She heard him before she saw him. There he lay.
Yes, David was asleep on the couch, mouth open, snoring, dressed in track pants and t-shirt, sprawled out in front of the big screen with the remote centred atop his belly like a cherry on a sundae. Her disappointment was sobering. She turned and slowly climbed the stairs that led to another night in a lonely bed.
Her PDA vibrated on her lap, distracting Meredith as she sat listening to the team’s debrief during what would now become a daily ritual. Kentin sat down after reviewing the first quarter media buy. The graphics team was standing either side of the massive LED screen proposing three variations for the first ad “I’m thinking about U – want to hold that beautiful face in my hands and kiss U deeply.”
Wanting for the passionate touch of ‘Sensual-David’, the man she’d fallen in love with, she immediately responded “and then…?”
“Listen to you tell me what excites U. What R your fantasies? You can share your deepest desires and we can start there.”
“why don’t i whisper them 2 u over dinner 2nite?” She guiltily typed back, distancing her mind from the meeting and indulging herself for just a moment. David had certainly made an effort and she would as well. Meredith had decided to overlook last night’s disappointment, and, instead, focused on the promise of the evening ahead.
For the second time that day, she caught her mind wandering off, visiting an erotic, steamy, sensual destination where she entertained her lusty thoughts at least until her journey was abruptly halted by the reality of the ringing phone on her desk.
David’s deep and familiar voice rumbled from the speaker, “Hey Babe, I just have a minute, but how about our own little celebration tonight?”
“I thought we had…ahem…plans?”
“What do you mean?
“We just….”
He cut her off, “Ah, never mind. Listen I’ve only got a minute, but let’s try somewhere new for dinner. Go somewhere no one knows us. It’ll be an adventure.”
“I’d like that. Surprise me. You know I have an adventurous side,” she played along.
“Oh yes you do! See you at home, then. Say around six?”
“I’ll likely be there a little earlier. See you then.”
Tapping the speaker button, Meredith disconnected the call. What things might they dare do tonight in public cloaked under the brave costume of anonymity? She mused at the potential.
She was smiling when she realized that Kentin was standing in her doorway with the purchase orders that required her signature. “Can you sign these before you go?”
“For you? Anything!” She wondered how much of the conversation he had overheard.
She left the office early to prepare for the evening.
“R U thinking of ways I can please U? Because I am,” was the message she received as she rode home. It continued “What 1 thing can I do for U that no man has ever done? Don’t tell me now. Just think about it. I’ll ask U again later and then I’ll demand 2 know every detail of your secret desire.”
Those last few questions had Meredith indulging a little longer in the shower, primping with extra effort and carefully choosing her lingerie, jewelry and outfit with the contemplation of a seasoned seductress. She applied more makeup than usual and did her hair in a rare up-do. The result was a woman, that, in her own right, was worthy of celebration.
David arrived home happy in his anticipation of a romantic dinner. Meredith was warmed by the smiles and attention he was displaying preparing for their evening. Maybe he was capable of being ardent and adventurous. Tonight, he actually stopped and picked up a fine French vintage and a special surprise in a plain paper wrapper. He wouldn’t even hint at what it was. All he would commit to was that it was for later at home and it was for both of them.
As they drove to dinner, he looked at her often and within the series of glances, there was a brief but real appreciative gaze that she remembered from their early days of yearning. Meredith pondered the extent of his love for her and reminisced about how sexually adventurous they once were. She wondered if that lost passion was irretrievable. Had it been neatly tucked away between their dreams and their youth?
The meal was a five course sensual delight. The restaurant was dim and elegant with small spotlights created by the candles creating an intimate stage of each table. Jazz notes hung and wafted through the air. The servers were overly attentive. In fact, they were more so than David.
Just as they swallowed the last bites of dessert, Meredith’s PDA tickled her thigh from inside her small silver dinner bag, seducing her with yet another proposition “I want 2 take U on a sexual journey with me to places U never dared go B4”.
She read it, smiled and wanted to express her growing anticipation to David right there at the table. Yet she was held back, restrained by a budding confusion. She glanced at him then back down at the message. David hadn’t left the table once in almost two hours. His hands were clearly visible all night. His behaviour had been somewhat flirtatious, but nowhere close to the level of intensity and ardor suggested by his messages.
His messages? The realization dealt her a devastating blow.
She sat still, frozen in her seat, unable to move yet her mind was racing.
The waiter pouring her coffee hurled her back into reality. Meredith regained her composure, waited a few minutes, excused herself and went to the ladies room.
She had to know. She needed clarity. She typed “what r u wearing?” into her PDA. But this time she had carefully chosen David’s cell number from her contact list before hitting the send key.
The response took a few minutes to arrive, “You know what I am wearing. My blue suit and white shirt, why?” was the modest, matter of fact response she had dreaded.
She stared at all the proof she needed.
In desperation, her fingers then scrolled through the conversations from the past few days, re-reading the messages and words that had stirred her, indulging in their playfulness, their excitement, and in the intense emotions they had evoked in her.
Moving her gaze to the vision in the mirror, she recognized a woman she once knew, a sensual woman whose energy was invigorating, a women she missed, one whose passion had been obvious, a woman who had been withering over the past two years, yet over the past few days had come alive with yearning and passion.
Clutching the key to her rebirth, she hesitated at first but then tapped another message. This time with the full knowledge that she had just begun her flirtation with destiny, “i need 2 take that journey, where do we begin?”
There was no response.
She adjusted her hair, looked down at her PDA and there was still nothing.
She was about to rejoin David at the table when the device vibrated in her hand sending chills through her body.
“How ‘bout we start with proper introductions… “
Another vibration.
“my…”
And another.
“name…”
Another vibration.
“is…”
And, finally…
“Kentin”.
