5PM

by Chris Heinicke

  He takes a few steps towards me, and I know Emily’s won this round so I release my grip. “Sorry, Em. Just a misunderstanding is all.” Now it’s my turn to speak in a loud voice.

  George retreats back to his own office, and I stare down the blonde who has caused so much trouble. She smiles and winks back at me, making my blood boil and providing the catalyst for me to rush back to my own office. I slam the door shut behind me and close the blinds to make myself invisible to anyone curious as to what I’m actually up to.

  I tell myself to get it together. This Pellmont property is the key to a big pay cheque that no one can take from me if I can convince the poor widow to pick me as her agent. But I’ve done this before. I can do this in my sleep. I have the gift of empathy, and I can make most people like me enough to want me to sell their property.

  * * * * *

  I decide to leave a little earlier for my midday appointment to try to get a feel for the area where the lady’s house is. I find the up-market suburb, and as I drive the streets, I can’t help but think of the hope I could one day afford one of these oversized houses. It’s not just for me, but for my sweet wife and children, too. Talissa deserves the best of everything. I’d like to give my own kids the chance to grow up in a life of luxury, and not just getting by week to week like our family did on the farm. For each generation, it gets tougher to find one’s financial feet, and I want those feet of my kids to tread on marble and not dragging them through mud.

  I drool over a few more grand looking estates before the time is right to approach Mrs Pellmont’s place. I can’t believe my eyes as I pull up and park on the side of the road out in front of her house. There are three levels to it, and the stonework is white and appears to have been recently cleaned. The front gardens are well kept and the hedges trimmed. The lawn out front surrounds a fountain standing as tall as me, and looks like it’s been mowed recently. It’s the colour of a green tree frog

  I admire the view for a minute, a view not unlike the cover of a gardening magazine, and make my way towards the front door. This place could probably fetch two and a half million the way the market is at the moment. If I can build a reputation in this area, I could tell Phelps to go shove this job where the sun don’t shine.

  I take short paces and absorb the journey to the front door through not only my eyes, but the pores of my skin. Even the air feels so much cleaner and crisp here. With just a few feet to go before I reach the end of the path, I see the front door open, and I’m greeted by the sight of a beautiful woman wearing a long white summer dress. Her shiny blonde hair is styled in a bob and her green eyes guide me like a pair of lighthouses. Mrs Pellmont must have sent her daughter to meet with me, and now I find myself in a different scenario to what I originally expected.

  “Good morning, Mr Cooper. Please, come on through.” She smiles as I’m near to her position.

  I extend a hand for her to shake. “Please, call me, Terry.”

  “Nice to meet you, Terry. I’m Lauren, Lauren Pellmont.”

  “You look so young. I thought you must have been the daughter. Sorry for your loss, Lauren.”

  “Donald wasn’t a well man for some time, but he made sure I would be taken care of after he passed away. But the truth is, I no longer want to stay here. I need to get away for a while and see the world again.”

  The file said that Donald was seventy-two when he died, so was Lauren some kind of a trophy wife for him? Part of me is disgusted, and the other part of me has nothing but admiration for the old guy landing such a young hottie for a wife at his age. “It’s such a nicely presented house from the road. If the inside is anything like the outside, I think we could get two and a half for this place. That will get you a lot of travelling.”

  “I promise not to disappoint you, Terry.” She leads me through to the open kitchen, dining, and living area that screams open living entertaining as I wander to the middle of it and let the beauty wash over me. I could really see myself in this place, or something very similar to it. There’s a study and a library and laundry to fill out the rest of this level, and we take the staircase to the second.

  There are three large bedrooms, which I know my kids would lose themselves in, and another living area with a steel pole in the centre going from floor to ceiling. There is also a couple of couches and a large television screen parallel to the wall adjacent to a guest room.

  “Interesting pole you have there,” I say to her, the vision of it reminding me of something I had seen in the chat program. A second after the words leave my mouth, I wonder about the wisdom of my statement.

  “I use it for practice and to keep in shape. I used to dance on one regularly in a club if you catch my drift.” Her smirk is full of mischief.

  Why is she telling me this? As much as I’d love to see a demonstration, my mind needs to go back to the job. “The second level is immaculate. I would love to see the top level.”

  “And I’m dying to show it to you.” She leads the way to the next set of stairs, and as she starts to ascend them, she wraps her dress tight to her left leg. I try not to stare directly above me as this action of hers shows off the nice round shape of her arse.

  Don’t look, don’t look. I keep these two words repeating through my head, and when we reach the top level, we enter a sitting room. Sunlight sparkles throughout the area courtesy of a large domed skylight window and the cream coloured furniture and decor contrast beautifully against the dark carpet. I see a door ahead, which I assume is the entry for the master bedroom.

  “We have just one more room to look at, and I’m sure you will love it.” She smiles and looks away, and then she walks slowly to the door. This is when I realise she’s no longer wearing shoes, and as I look around me, I don’t see the pair I saw her in when I first met her at the front door.

  She opens the door and gently pushes it inwards. I follow a few feet behind, and the room she leads me into is like a bedroom I have never laid eyes on before. The ceilings are twice the height of me from the floor, and a giant bed sits in the middle of a space almost equal to a basketball court. I steer away to the left and head for the ensuite bathroom, finding a shower cubicle with twin shower heads and two hand basins, each large enough to bathe a baby in.

  I exit the bathroom as I look past the bed and see an outdoor deck area on the other side of a large sliding door. “This is amazing, Lauren,” I say as I walk onto the deck and see a four person spa bath built into the deck. Long cane lounges lined with cushions sit on pavers either side of the larger than the average spa.

  “My husband and I spent a lot of time out here. The night time view is amazing and reminds me why I married a rich guy. It’s hard to let go of this place, Terry, but it’s something I have to do if I wish to move on and spread my wings.”

  “I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose a spouse, but we each deal with it in a different way.”

  She smiles, her teeth exceptionally white. “I did love my husband, but everyone knew what this marriage really was. I earned a lot of money dancing at clubs, showing nearly all my skin for the leering faces of all sorts of men, but even doing so, I knew I’d never be the sort of rich where I felt I was entitled. Mr Pellmont didn’t want to grow old with an old woman, and I was his third wife in fifty years. So, we each got what we wanted from this marriage.”

  She walks closer, and there’s a look in her eyes that makes me feel like hunted prey. I can’t say she’s not attractive, and her voice has a slightly deep tone that would sound great on the radio. There are no right words to what she just said about her dead husband and marriage of convenience, so I continue looking into those eyes of hers as she approaches me.

  “So you like the house then, Terry?”

  “Lauren, I wish I could buy it myself, but I’d actually have to sell a number of houses in this price bracket first to be able to do it. I really think you could ask two-point-eight mill for this place, maybe two-point-nine.”

  “A girl could do a lot with that money
, don’t you think? A girl could buy a little pink convertible and travel the country, stopping when she wanted and where she wanted. When she got sick of it, she could sell it and start travelling to every country around the globe.”

  “Yes, she could.”

  “But you know what? I need to have an afternoon in this place that will leave me with another set of memories.” Then one by one, she pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulders, allowing it to fall on the deck. I never realised she had such voluptuous breasts under her dress, but now they sat high and supported by a red lacy bra barely covering her nipples.

  “Lauren, you are a very beautiful woman, but this isn’t appropriate for many reasons.”

  She takes a couple more steps and her generous bust is almost touching my own chest. “Who cares about appropriate. I’m your client, and you owe me the services I require to sell this place. But it comes with a condition where you need to do what I say.”

  “I’m a married man.”

  “That hasn’t stopped you before, has it?” She looks at my eyes with such intensity, I feel like she can read my mind. “You don’t need to answer that.”

  How stupid am I? I’ve seen parts of this house before, not in real life, but in that dreadful 3DDreamChat program. These past couple of days, I was barking up the wrong tree, thinking BluesGirl88 was Emily, but instead, she’s the freaking so-called grieving widow. Even the 88 part of her name now makes sense, given that she’s twenty-six years old.

  “Your body is telling you to take me and make me yours for the afternoon. I can see that bulge in your pants.”

  I wish she were wrong, but after Talissa doing what she did to me before work, it wouldn’t take much for me to lose control. “Why me? You could take any man home and do wicked things to him for however long you wanted.”

  “You’re a man bursting with sexual confidence. I picked your branch to sell this house because I wanted YOU to sell it... after you sell yourself to me in the bedroom. I won’t tell your wife about this or your boss, or even your friend, Roger.”

  “How do you know Roger?”

  “The idiot tried to pick me up in the bar a couple weeks ago where you and he were having drinks after work. He might think he has a way with words, but he knows nothing about the modern woman.”

  I don’t remember seeing her face before, but then I see a lot of faces in the bar we like to visit every Friday afternoon. I tell a lie. “If you were at the same bar as me, I would surely remember your face.”

  “From where I was sitting, you wouldn’t. I observe people, and when I do, I make sure they can’t see me. I saw the way you carry yourself, and the sound of your voice made me so hot that night. I wanted to say hi to you, but Roger was always by your side, and I couldn’t have him see us talk. So once you left the bar, I went and sat near him and glanced in his direction from time to time. A few drinks later, he almost pounced on me. Men are so predictable when they drink; they need a few under their belt before they chat to a beautiful woman.”

  “So you obviously turned him down.”

  “You’re not paying attention. I spoke to him. I had him talking about what he did for a living and where he worked. I went home that night and couldn’t believe my luck. I used him to make an appointment with you, the poor unknowing bastard.”

  This is the strangest story. What is going on?

  She continues. “I have to sell this place anyway, so why not use you for sex and you use me to get exclusive rights to sell this high priced property?” She grabs my tie and undoes it.

  I can’t cheat on Talissa again, but this woman has me so horny right now, even if she lets me say no to the sex and allows me to remain her agent, I don’t know if I want to turn this opportunity down.

  “The commission from this place will do so much for you and your family, so it’s a win-win situation. I don’t want to take you away from your wife and kids. I just want to feel your body close to mine.”

  Her hand runs to my top shirt button, and then the next, and to each one all the way down my front, loosening each button from its respective hole. I move my shoulders back and allow the garment to slide down to the floor behind me. She runs her fingers over my chest. Wanting to do the same to her, I unclasp her bra with a single hand, and then use both to grab a strap from each of her shoulders, pulling them free from the best pair of boobs I’ve ever seen in real life.

  They are surprisingly perky for their size, and I grab them with my hands which are dwarfed in comparison. She leans forward and kisses me. I take one hand away from her breasts and slide my fingertips down the front of her, slowly passing her stomach, and then her navel, which is one underrated area of the female body that I find an extreme turn-on.

  Her hand takes a similar course, and I soon feel my belt loosened thanks to her quick moving fingers, whose touch is light, but precise in their movements. The belt is ripped through the loops of my pants and thrown to the floor, and then her hands start working on the zipper and button of my trousers. I bring my other hand down and now I have one on each of her hips, making for a grip on each side of her red lacy panties.

  She whispers in my ear, the soft breeze emitted tickling me and adding to my hunger for her. “Go on, take them down.”

  My trousers hit the floor, and a searching hand grabs my erection through my cotton underwear. The side straps of her panties are in my hands, and slowly, I send them downwards. She releases her grip as I get on my knees, and soon, she is fully exposed to my leering eyes as I send her last item of clothing to her ankles. I can now see she mustn’t be a natural blonde as she sits on the bed and throws herself backwards against the covers, her legs draped over the end and slowly opening.

  “Stand up and bang me like a whore,” she yells.

  And I do as she asks.

  * * * * *

  I wake up and see darkness through the sliding doors. How many hours have I been sleeping? I turn the other way and feel for the woman who I spent intimate time with, only to discover I’m alone in her bed. The house is silent and I have no idea what the time is until I press the light button on my watch and see that it’s now seven-twenty-four p.m.

  What the hell happened? I surely couldn’t have been so tired that I needed that much sleep in the afternoon. Picking up my phone, I see there are a few missed calls—two from Roger, one from Phelps, and three from my wife. I didn’t hear a single call come through.

  I pick the one I least care about. Phelps’s voice has an erratic tone asking what the outcome of the meeting with Mrs Pellmont was. The first call from Roger inquired why I wasn’t at our usual Friday meeting spot for drinks after work, and the second call saying he had received a call from Talissa asking where I was just fifteen minutes ago.

  The first call from Talissa requested I bring home some bread and milk, the second asking why I wasn’t home yet, and the last one, just five minutes ago, saying she’s on her way to the place where my boss, Phelps, said I was meeting with a client.

  Oh, shit. She’s coming here and I’m lying naked in a messed up bed in someone’s house. From my calculations, the longest she will take is twenty minutes from our house to this place, which doesn’t take into account if she’s already on her way here. I find my clothes scattered around the room, picking them up, and trying to dress as quickly as I can. My shirt and trousers are wrinkled. I run to the bathroom attached to the bedroom and grab a hairbrush to try to fix my bed hair.

  I gather my briefcase and jog through the house and down two flights of stairs on my journey to the front door. While not leaving me breathless, I do begin breathing heavier after the burst of energy. I grab my phone and try Talissa’s number. I see a dark car heading up the driveway with its headlights shining at me. Putting up a hand to filter the brightness, I take a glance every couple of seconds to try to make out the car, and I soon discover what I suspected.

  My wife’s car is just a few metres from me now.

  How the hell do I explain this, being at a client’s house
hours after the appointment? I don’t have a filing cabinet inside my head full of readymade lie files I can pull and utilise at a moment’s notice. But as the car stops and Talissa throws off her seatbelt, I find something.

  “Baby, I’m sorry. We got caught up in some tough negotiations,” I say as I walk over to her. Our children are seated in the back of the car. I notice a lot of stuff packed into the car.

  She steps out the car and looks me over from top to bottom. “Tough negotiations that wrinkle your clothes?”

  “Talissa, it’s not like that at all.”

  “Then why the hell didn’t you call me and give me an update? I’m sure a client could understand if their agent wanted to let their wife know they would be late coming home from work. You’re up to something, Terry.”

  “You’re acting silly, there’s nothing—”

  A slap across the face stops me in my falseness. “Women’s panties in your car, no phone call to say you’ll be late, and I see you in wrinkled clothes and those late nights on the computer, as well? You’re obviously sleeping with someone else.”

  “Please Talissa—”

  “The kids and I are going to my mum’s for the weekend, so just do whatever the hell you want. We’ll talk about this on Monday. Maybe my mother will calm me down, but I can’t be in the same house as you this weekend. I don’t want to have to tell the kids I murdered their father. Goodbye, Terry.”

  I watch her get back in the car and drive away.

  * * * * *

  I grab some takeaway burgers on the way home and a bottle of rum. Maybe if I drink enough, I can drown away the mess I’ve created. How the hell did I walk into this trap someone set for me? I turn the computer on, flick the lid from the rum bottle, and take a big bite from this mess of a thing resembling a cheeseburger. Logging into the chat, I soon find BluesGirl88 and summon her to a private chat.

  “You fucking bitch! Where the hell did you go today?” I type. I alternate between taking a bite from a burger to taking a swig of rum.