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Short Story: The Encounter-Part I
This story has been divided into three parts due to its length. If you are reading this hub you are at the beginning. Be sure to catch Parts II and III for the rest of the story...
The man knew he was going to pick her up as sure as he knew his name was Jack.
He spotted her earlier in the buffet line and later observed her dancing with a little girl of four or so. She herself looked young, which was part of the attraction. Her youthful features bore an innocence that triggered a flash of heat, followed by a giddy sense of excitement. He felt the familiar throb as blood surged through his body.
It was her casual appearance at this gala that struck him first--overly casual. He wondered if she was being unconventional or just rebellious. He hoped it was the latter. He watched honey colored curls bounce off her shoulders and back as her hips and rear swayed to the soft sounds of the samba.
“Not much of either hips or ass,” he thought lustfully, observing tight jeans and knee high suede boots clinging to her sylph body. It was the type of body he admired most--lean and athletic. Her short-sleeved, embroidered blouse was the color of milk chocolate and hung just above her belt, high enough to reveal a strip of white, now and then, when she bent over to twirl the little girl wrapped in her fingers. Her whole outfit looked out of place and indeed it was.
“Who wears jeans to a wedding?” he thought with incredulous delight. But her sultry moves were for him alone--an invitation to a late night liaison.
She was oblivious of him, and he liked that. It made the chase all the more enticing. She seemed unaware of everyone else around her save for the little girl, and he wondered which side had invited her there--bride or groom ?
He looked around the room as she left the dance floor, watching her guide the girl through a sea of white linen to a table in the far corner. Too far for him to innocently meander by, and he did not recognize the group of people she sat with, all who were formally dressed, including the little girl.
He lifted his empty tumbler toward the somber faced young man behind the counter who efficiently refilled his glass. Scotch and water, his usual at these affairs…smooth…like him. He chuckled aloud to himself at his joke. He was enjoying his anticipation.
Replenished, his attention turned to the corner table once more. He had no plan. To have a plan would have pricked the spontaneity of the encounter. He wasn’t nervous. He had been at this game far too long to be nervous. He recalled an earlier time in his life when his tongue would trip over itself the moment any girl would pay attention to him. However, the older he got the more he enjoyed the challenge of the conquest.
He watched the table, forcing himself to appear casual and waiting for an opportunity. If there was one thing he knew about women, it was eventually they would take the inevitable walk to the bathroom.
To make the initial contact the timing would have to be impeccable. Would she be alone or with the little girl? Would any one of the few people he knew choose that very moment to engage in some meaningless prattle and interrupt his move? Would he get his foot far enough into her door to wedge it there, making it impossible for her to resist his charms?
“Oh, Jackie Boy,” he whispered aloud, impishly calculating that it had been far too long since he had had any fun, “where’ve ya’ been all this time?”
He acknowledged the advantages of being a stranger at this celebration.
Turning his body slightly to the left, he could view the table without staring. However, as he did so he noticed that she was gone, as was the little girl. His eyes briefly scanned the dance floor and then continued to the more obvious points of interest: the empty head table, the desert bar, the photo shoot of the newlyweds cutting the cake…each time coming up empty.
He concluded that she must have slipped out of the room. Then, in one of those defining moments when the outcome of the evening could have turned out disappointingly different, the group hovering at the bar parted, revealing her tiny frame at the opposite end. He was almost past that point when he spotted her and deftly moved his body against the tide of people rushing to quench their thirst.
Are you intrigued enough with part 1 to continue reading?
I created The Encounter from a basic writing exercise. In the attempt to build the character of Jack, the depth of the story unfolded as the psychological makeup of this man’s behavior was revealed. This short story was completed in 2009
No part of this original short story may be used, copied or reproduced without the expressed written permission of the author, Denise Handlon
- The Encounter-Part 11
As smoothly as he maneuvered himself between her and the man she stood beside, he slid the gold band off his finger, dropping it deep into the pocket of his gray dress slacks, and pressing his body subtly...
- The Encounter-Part lll
The early morning rendezvous stretched into mid-afternoon with very little sleep in between. The toast he had made the night before had come true, thanks to his crafty maneuvering. She proved to not...