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| Friday | |
| By Ciaran | ||||||
| 17 June 2006 | ||||||
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This is a character development piece for a story I am compiling. It is not actually a feature in the main text. The narrator and main character, Michael, is a New York detective who has lost a high-profile investigation during the week. He was phoned by an old flame who invited him to a corporate date. It picks up from there. I normally hated Fridays. It was the one day of the week where everyone else talked about enjoying their two days of freedom and relaxation away from the strains of work. The truth for me, as for any investigative officer, was that it meant two days of avoiding the fun-lovers and getting down to some serious alone time with current cases. I felt it a personal insult when text messages beamed onto my cellphone inviting me for a drink when, right beside the cellphone, there was a leather folder opened, its contents spilling out pictures of dead women, raped and stabbed tens of times. This Friday, though, I was as happy as every other office worker. I was free for two days. Annie had called again early in the afternoon to check that I could still make our appointment. I was hesitant to call it a date for fear of getting my hopes up. My conclusion was that Annie really did just need a date and, as the boy who chased after her from eighth grade until college, I was ready to fall at her feet again. I was. It wasn't so much that I needed Annie, I just needed a friend right now. A friend who knew nothing of the case and could let me just zone out. I figured that, with her position as a high-end commercial defense attorney, she'd have far more pressing cases than mine and it wouldn't even surface as a blip on her radar. I hoped. I pulled up out front of Jupiter Buildings at 5.56pm and, out of laziness, rang her cell instead of walking up to ring her doorbell. She didn't answer, taking the rings to mean I was waiting for her outside. Within a minute, she had slipped out of the front door and stepped into the passenger seat of my Town Car. "Quite the romantic, Michael." Her sarcasm slipped off me like water on a duck's back. I found it rather endearing. "So, where are we headed?" "6th and Belmont," she replied, "Hollander & Sons offices." I nodded as though Hollander & Sons meant something to me. I guessed that, being Annie, it would probably be a law firm who were meeting and greeting opposition lawyers today and sueing the asses off them the next. It was, in all likelihood, a chance for them to sum up what they were likely to face, a recon mission. Annie looked across at me. "You know, Michael, you've gotten a lot older." I didn't know quite what she meant. I mean, it had been twelve years, doesn't everybody age? Then she answered my question, without me even asking it. "I mean recently. You look worn down. Like you need this." "All I need is a drink, Annie, a stiff one." She nodded and didn't say anything. She didn't need to. I took my mind off talking and dedicated myself to driving the fifteen or so blocks to 6th and Belmont. Within a couple of minutes, we were there. I decided chivalry was my best option after my let-down outside her apartment and so walked around to open the passenger door for my companion. She smiled sweetly, her rose red lips pursing. "Thank you." The place was already full. A law office had been turned into a heaving bar, complete with waiters and a fifteen-feet long waiting table. The drink had seemingly been flowing for quite some time, judging by the loudness of voices and the free touching of one-another. Annie slid her left hand into my right hand and led me through the crowd, walking straight towards the bartender. She ordered me a large scotch. Wow, I thought, unbelieving that I'd been drinking the same drink for twelve years. I should really change that. Annie got herself a white wine and I pulled out a twenty dollar bill to cover the drinks. "No, Michael," she whispered, pushing my hand back into my top jacket pocket, "It's paid for." I loved it when she said that. I loved it when anyone said that. Having found a sofa against one of the office walls, Annie placed her drink besides it and sat me down next to her. She took both of my hands in hers and put them over her knees, turning her body, so beautiful in a sleek black hip-hugging gown, towards me. "Tell me Michael." I sighed, feeling so exhausted I could have cried. "I want to forget about it Annie, really. It's just been a hellish week, I had a concrete case fall through. Or at least I thought it was concrete." I felt myself repeating to Annie what I had already complained about to anyone with ears so I stopped dead in my tracks. "Please, can we talk about something else." Annie was receptive, telling me she just wanted me to smile, and I did. She was incredible and moments like this, exaggerated by the presence of alcohol, made me wonder exactly why I had left her. Or even if I had left her. That was a question best left of the menu for that evening. "You're not doing much networking," I noted, having seen that Annie hadn't ventured away from our sofa despite each of us being on the fourth, or maybe fifth, of our respective drinks. Annie shrugged. "Ah well, they'll see me Monday." I turned my head slightly and furrowed my eyebrows. "I'm moving, this is my new office." My eyebrows quickly unfurrowed and, even quicker, arched in surprise. "That's why I wanted you here, Michael. I want to see more of you now that we work so close." Though my head too was slightly adrift after so much alcohol having been consumed, I still had to think about whether I was listening to Annie or the wine and, for the sake of my own prosperity, I concluded it must have been the former. Hindsight would certainly tell me different, I predicted. "Look, I'm done socialising for tonight. Let's head home." Home? Where was home? "I can't drive." Sure enough, my inability to construct even a three-syllable sentence paid testament to that admission. "Then we'll walk." I pondered whether her head was clearer than mine or whether she just had a better grasp of local geography. Her apartment was only a matter of blocks from this office. I guessed that was 'home'. We left the party without saying any goodbyes and hailed the first taxi to come our way. It seemed our good intentions had faltered after the struggle of navigating the office's stairwell. Four-dollars-twenty was the cost of the fare. I glanced a thought at how ridiculous it had been to get a taxi for such a short journey. Annie's right hand creeping into my waistband distracted me and so we both exited the taxi, with me footing the fare. Inside her apartment, Annie asked if I wanted another drink. I thanked her but declined, aware that I was already somewhat detached from my senses and certain that most of my Saturday would be spent nursing a nasty headache. That didn't stop her pouring a glass of white wine for herself. She then came and sat beside me on the living room couch. She leant into me, resting her head on my chest so I was uncomfortable to leave my arm anywhere but on the bottom of her back. She moaned gently, somewhat in appreciation of my returned petting. She hadn't sipped her wine after five minutes of resting against me and so I made the next move, asking her if she wanted to go to bed. I thought it innocent at first but, upon revisiting my utterance, decided it was a definite come-on. My excuse? I thought she was tired. I probably would have been more embarassed about the blatent pick-up had she not agreed so eagerly. I woke up, opening my eyes to bright sunshine. Straight away, I closed my eyes back up again as I felt a cracking pain rifle down the centre of my head. I groaned. Annie turned over, facing me and smiling with tired eyes. "You okay?" I asked and she just pursed her lips. Her eyes closed and she shuffled her body up against me. My memory of the night before had become somewhat scarce. I dreaded what I may have said to Annie in the heat of the moment, hoping my talk of commitments to her was nil. I feared it may not have been. I eased up my muscles, leaning back into the pillow, and let myself drift off to sleep once more, this time with Annie laid over my arm.
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