5PM

by Chris Heinicke

  Damn, I’m a pervert. It has to be the lack of sleep causing this paranoia making me think this chat girl has invaded my real life. There are millions of people living in this city, and what’s to say BluesGirl88 even lives here? She could be from another state or living in another country. But then again, I didn’t detect an accent.

  The brief goes for another ten minutes before Phelps decides someone else should talk. He invites Emily to speak about herself.

  She stands with one hand on her hip and the other to annunciate her words. Looking at all our attentive faces, she tells of her education in real estate sales, small business management, and her working holidays overseas, and lastly, she’s looking to anchor herself and settle down. Listening to her speak is like sexual chocolate, and she exudes enough confidence to put even Roger in his place if need be.

  “So are you single?” George asks.

  Roger looks at him and raises his eyebrows as if to ask, “What the fuck?”

  “Recently single, yes, but I don’t think I’m your type,” she winks as she says it.

  George laughs. “Well, this is obvious. I thought we could go out for drinks sometime and you can see what’s on the market in this city. At least, if they’re not your type, they might be mine.”

  “Hey, George, we’re not here to play Mr Matchmaker. Now, Emily, you can work with me today, and tomorrow you can go out there and do your magic,” Phelps says.

  We all go our separate ways, and I watch from behind as this blonde newcomer follows the boss to his office. As she turns to the left to go in, she notices me checking out her arse as her head swivels, and then turns away as she steps into the dragon’s den of Phelps’ office, as we have nicknamed it.

  I walk to my own office and close the door and the blinds. I boot up the work computer and wait for it to load. Why the company doesn’t update their system is beyond me. I have enough time to go make a mug of coffee and bring it back by the time the system is ready. I type in the internet address for 3DDreamchat and download the basic, low graphic version. I know this will take a while, so I call up Mrs Pellmont, but reach a younger sounding woman saying she’s her assistant who is able to confirm our appointment for Friday. Then I do a few followup calls for clients who have expressed interest in buying property in certain areas. I make mention to each of two or three properties that might possibly meet their needs. I do a kick-arse job of disguising my tiredness to help ensure I make them feel confident I am able to help them find their dream property.

  Checking on the progress of my download, I see the chat program has completed so I install it. I know this goes against the company terms and conditions for using their computers, but I need to check to see if this BluesGirl88 is online so I can eliminate my suspicions. It takes a few minutes for the PC to install the software and then restart, so I refill my coffee mug again whilst waiting.

  I’ve lost count of how much coffee I have ingested today, but I care little for those stats. The computer is ready and I run the 3DDreamchat software. Entering my username and password, I soon see there is no sign of the blonde I’ve spent hours chatting to online.

  Damn, I’ve loaded contraband software to the company computer and haven’t achieved anything to dispel my suspicion about the chat girl and Emily being one and the same. I exit the program and make sure there isn’t an icon for it in my start menu, desktop screen, or quick launch buttons. Someone would actually have to search to find it if they wanted to see if I have anything on my system that shouldn’t be there.

  I look at my appointment book. There’s a young couple booked in to take a look at a property in their price range an hour from now. It’s a great opportunity to get out and try to clear my head and if I leave now, I’ll have time to grab a latte to go from the cafe a couple of blocks from the property I need to be at.

  I shut down the computer, grab my briefcase, and head towards the back entrance to make for the car park at the rear of the building. I manage to avoid human contact until I exit the rear door of the building and see Emily out back smoking a cigarette. My heart rate climbs and I breathe in long and hard, then let it out at the same pace. While she’s still out here smoking, I have my chance to confront her.

  “Terry, are you feeling better?” she asks.

  I nod and head for my car. Feeling her eyes follow me, I turn back to her and stop in my tracks. I then start heading her way. “What the hell are you doing here?” I ask from a few feet from her.

  She takes a couple of graceful steps my way and stops as I do, with just a foot between us. Taking a long drag on the menthol cigarette in her mouth, she stares at me while exhaling smoke in my face. “I work here.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, why are you following me from 3DDreamChat to my real life?

  She laughs. “3DDreamChat? Hey, whatever you’re smoking is obviously a lot more fun than this menthol. What are you talking about?”

  I point at her shirt. “You were wearing the same shirt last night with the same skirt. You dressed like this on purpose to mess with my head. Even your ponytail.”

  “You’re funny but obviously nuts. How would you know what I was wearing last night?”

  “Like I said, 3DDreamChat. You had me at your mansion and you had a white shirt and black skirt on. We talked for ages and then... did... other things.”

  “Oh, Terry, I’m sorry, but you must have me mixed up with someone else,” she looks at my ring finger, “and what’s a married man doing chatting to a woman who looks like me on the internet?”

  I could throw up again right now. Have I made myself look really stupid now? I guess this is what happens when one doesn’t get enough sleep in a day. “Never mind. I’m so sorry, Emily. I must sound like a crazy man.”

  She throws down her cigarette butt and grabs my hands with hers. “It’s okay, Terry. You’ve obviously had a rough night.” She releases one of her hands from mine and feels around her handbag, pulling out a small coin purse and opens it. “Take one of these. It will help you get through the day.” She puts a small white pill in my free hand.”

  “What the hell is it?” I ask.

  “You’re tired. This will make you not tired. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have any hallucinogens in it, but when it wears off, you will crash down pretty hard.”

  “How long does it work for?”

  “Eight to ten hours, give or take. Depends on the person, but for me, it’s normally ten hours.”

  Her hand is warm and soft, and she lingers with a fine touch for a few seconds longer than she should have. “I have to go,” I tell her, and release myself from her hypnotising blue eyes. As I walk towards the car, I throw the pill down my throat and don’t look back at Emily until I’m in my car.

  She looks back at me and waves as I drive away to meet my clients.

  * * * * *

  When I’m tired, I like to tell myself the coffee will fix it, but today it was a little white round pill that fixed it. I’m driving home and I haven’t felt better in days like I have in the last few hours. Emily had been right about the pill.

  The afternoon had been a busy one, and I think I might have nearly secured another property sale before it even has a chance to hit the market. The clients, Yvette and Robert, make such a nice young couple. One of those couples who always held hands and finished each other’s sentences and had a bright-eyed reaction to every part of the house I showed them.

  They remind me of how Talissa and I were during our first few years together. Even in my late twenties and early thirties she made me feel like a boy happily suffering an intense form of puppy love. Yes, we still love each other deeply, but I miss those days when we could just do what we wanted, go out for dinner whenever we felt like it, and fuck each other’s brains out at a moment’s notice. Of course, I love my children and could never be without them, but sometimes I wish I could go back to being the solitary centre of her universe. I know it’s selfish to think like this, but at times, I feel growing older and respon
sible sucks.

  “Enough,” I tell myself out loud. Anyone looking at my car just then would think I was crazy yelling out at myself. The road ahead is full of traffic and only travelling at the pace of a snail, and I soon see why. A little white hatchback has been t-boned by a red four-wheel drive, and the traffic has been restricted from four to two lanes for outgoing vehicles. I see a man talking to a blonde lady, his body language looking apologetic, and as the woman turns her head, I see the face of my new work colleague looking back at me. Her mouth opens, and at that point, I know she’s recognised me.

  Shit! I can’t just drive past her now. It takes a few minutes for the traffic to move around the left-hand corner just past the collision site, and I find a spot to pull over legally. In my twenty-three years of driving, I haven’t once been hit with a traffic or parking offence, so I don’t see a reason to risk it today.

  Emily runs over to me, and I push the button for the window to come down so she can speak through it. “Terry, you wouldn’t believe what happened. This idiot went through a red light and took me out at the T-junction back there. I think he’s been drinking.”

  I know I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do, but I can’t leave her stranded if she needs to be somewhere. “Do you need a lift somewhere?”

  “Really? You would do that for me? I need to grab my gym bag from my car though. I’m supposed to be teaching a class in twenty minutes.”

  “You’ve just had a car accident, does the gym class matter?”

  “Yes, people depend on me. I’m not hurt and I’ve already spoken to the police and tow truck driver, so I’m all cleared to leave.”

  She runs off before I can say anything, and in my side mirror, I see a police officer walking towards me. It’s a female cop in a pale blue shirt with a bulletproof vest and dark blue trousers. They say a female’s uniform is loose fitting so as not to feminise them too greatly, but this one seems to have neglected the norm. Rapidly approaching my side of the vehicle, she has her police badge produced as she arrives at my door. “Excuse me, sir, do you know this lady?”

  “Yes, we work together, as of today actually. Thought she could do with a ride.”

  “That’s awfully generous of you.” She looks at my hands on the wheel, and I can almost feel a laser-like light on my wedding ring. “I trust she will get home safely?”

  “You have my word officer.” I flash my million dollar property smile.

  I can’t help but notice her good looks and blonde hair that looks like it’s been put in a bun under her hat. It makes me remember I still need to get Talissa a naughty police officer suit for our ‘private time.’ Just another sexual fantasy to tick off my bucket list.

  “She has my card, so I better hear from her in the next couple hours, or you’ll be getting a visit from me.”

  I could think of worse things. But I understand her point; the streets aren’t what they used to be and not everyone who appears as a Good Samaritan is necessarily just that. I know, when my daughter gets older, I’ll be the most paranoid father on the planet.

  “I understand, and I’ll remind her to call you.”

  Emily gets to the passenger door, gym bag slung over her shoulder. She pulls the door open and gets in and says bye to the lady cop.

  We get waved off and I turn to Emily. “Please remember to call her when you get home.”

  “She put the hard word on you to leave me alone?”

  “Not quite, but it felt kind of insinuated. So how far away is this gym?”

  “About fifteen minutes up this road. It’s gonna come down to the wire.” She smiles.

  “I’ll do my best. Are you going to have time to get changed?”

  “Of course, I will. Just try and watch the road though.” She starts unbuttoning her blouse.

  Oh, no, I can’t believe this. I look straight ahead, but through my peripheral vision, I see her hands making her way down until she slips the garment off her shoulders. Her white lacy bra is in full view as I sneak a quick look while pretending to look for traffic to the left and right as we sail through a green light at a major intersection.

  This is too much.

  She opens her gym bag and pulls out a black crop top, pulling it over her head and over her bra. It sits a few inches above her navel and shows off her toned abs. Jutting her hands up the back of her top, she unhooks the bra underneath and carefully slips it out and places it in her bag.

  “I’ve done this a few times, you can probably tell.”

  “I’m trying not to look, but I’m only human.”

  She giggles, and then it gets worse. She pulls out a pair of red shorts from her bag and puts her hands up her skirt and then pulls down a pair of white lacy panties to her feet. I keep my eyes to the road, and a couple of minutes later, she tells me it’s okay to look. Her skirt has also gone but the red shorts are on, and I wish I could be in her class—whatever class it might be she’s teaching.

  She puts on a pair of ankle socks and white sneakers, and her transformation from business woman to a gym instructor is complete. “I really appreciate this, Terry.”

  “I don’t know how you do it, work in the office all day, and then teach whatever class it is you teach at the gym.”

  “I instruct what we call Weights and Beats. Basically using light dumbbell weights in many repetitions in tune to music. We get people of all ages coming in to do it. Maybe you should try it once.”

  “So let me get this straight—you smoke but also instruct classes at the gym?”

  “I’m trying to give them up, but it’s damn hard. I’ve cut down to ten smokes a day, which is great considering I used to smoke a pack a day from the age of sixteen.”

  We drive a little further and she points to the sign to the big name fitness company where she needs to stop. There’s a huge car parking area out in front of the building, which has a lot of floor-to-ceiling windows. I bring the car to a complete stop and before she gets out, she leans over to my side of the car and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. “I owe you big time for this.”

  “No, you don’t. Now get going so I can get home before the wife sends a search party for me.”

  I stare at her arse as she runs to the front door of the gym; one could bounce coins on her tight round picture of perfection. I tell myself to push those thoughts away and concentrate on getting home to Talissa and my children. As much as I like to sneak in a perv look at a hot body, having a look at a work colleague could only lead to trouble.

  * * * * *

  I walk through the door and can smell dinner is all ready to be served. Talissa asks how my day was, and I tell her about Phelps hiring a temp to help with the workload, but I don’t mention the fact the temp is female and a hottie. Not that my sweet wife would get jealous—she never does, but sometimes less information is better.

  “Daddy, you seem really awake tonight,” Isaac says.

  “I had a good day at work, son, so I’m really happy.” I smile at him. “It makes all the difference.”

  He smiles back. “Yes, it does. Mummy says you work too hard and that’s why you’re so tired lately.”

  “Mummy’s right. I promise to try and work less on weekends though. We have a new worker who might be able to do some more of Daddy’s work.”

  “Yay!” he says. Matilda echoes his cheer and we’re all sharing a smile at the dinner table.

  I look at the time and realise it was seven hours ago when I took the pill and don’t even want to contemplate what will happen when it wears off. Surely, it couldn’t be something as drastic as falling asleep at the table.

  There’s a knock at the door, and before I can even think about getting up from my chair, Talissa is up and greeting the person interrupting our meal. I hear a familiar woman’s voice introducing herself as a Constable Hannah Hall.

  “Terry,” Talissa calls out, and when I turn the corner from the dining room to the hallway, I see the blonde lady cop from the car accident scene.

  “Hi, officer, is everyt
hing okay?” I ask her.

  “I haven’t received a call from that Emily lady who got in your car earlier this evening. Can you account for her whereabouts?”

  “Terry?” Talissa’s furrows her eyebrows.

  “I dropped her off at Heavenly Bodies and then continued my journey home.”

  “Sounds like a strip joint,” the officer says. “Sure you didn’t stop in for a while?”

  “It’s a fitness centre. She teaches classes there,” I tell her.

  “So you just pick her up after a car accident, drop her off at the gym, and not wonder how she’s supposed to get home?”

  “Have you tried to call her? You must have her details from the accident report,” Talissa asks.

  The officer turns her attention to my dear wife. “As a matter of fact, I have tried several times, but her phone keeps ringing out. Is your beloved husband always in the habit of giving good looking women rides?”

  “Well, he rides me at least twice a week,” Talissa winks at me.

  “You think this is a joke?”

  “Yes, I do. Terry did a favour for a work colleague and because she hasn’t called you, you drop around here and try to accuse him of something. Either make a charge or leave us to our kids.”

  The cop stares back at her, and as she opens her mouth, I hear a mobile phone ringing. Staring back at me, she answers it, “Constable Hall.”

  I watch as she nods with every ‘uh-huh’, and a minute later, she ends the call. “That was Emily. Her phone ran out of charge and she only just got home. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience.”

  “You should be sorry for the thinly veiled accusation. Good night, Officer,” Talissa closes the door, and as I’m just about to walk back to the dining room she grabs my arm. “You didn’t tell me about your taxi service this afternoon.”

  “I didn’t think it mattered. Emily had a crash and I saw her and couldn’t just drive past. She just needed to be dropped off at the gym. That’s all.”