Chapter 5
FEEL FREE TO
Vacation time was rapidly approaching, so Dan kept his nose to the grindstone. He hadn't run into Mr. Fletcher since the incident and didn't particularly care to, nor did the receptionist ever return after being chair-screwed on that eventful day.
The next few days were taken up with arranging vacation schedules and interviewing receptionists. Finally, after two days of screening, he picked what he considered a very attractive creature. Her name was Beverly Johnson, just in from Chicago.
Quite a difference from that old fart that was here before, he thought as he welcomed her into the firm and explained her duties. Now, with that done, he would have some time to figure out where he was going to spend his vacation.
The next few days found New York in the grip of an overwhelming heat wave and Dan, like so many others, was grateful for the invention of the air conditioner.
Every spare moment he had was dedicated to looking through the various resort brochures, and as he did so, passionate thoughts flashed through his mind as he pictured himself screwing all those beautiful women whose photographs appeared in the colorful resort advertisements. Finally, V-Day had arrived and his long awaited liberation from the hot city was at hand.
A final check, to make sure that his subordinates knew exactly what to do during his absence, and then with a big smile on his face and his jacket over one arm, he waved farewell as he made for the elevator. Once outside, he noticed that the heat wave had broken, as cool breezes once more filtered through the canyons of the stone jungle of Manhattan.
Taking a deep breath, he felt like a million. "Ah, there's nothing like being free," he sighed. Then, turning toward the entrance of the Fletcher Building, he crossed his right arm over his left arm in a 'fuck you salute' and said, "And that's for you!"
Dan was quite proud of himself as he sat lazily back on the couch with his legs outstretched puffing a cigarette and looking at some more resort brochures that had come in the mail, while at the same time thinking of the terrific job that he had done at the office and how, when he got back, he was going to hit old man Fletcher for a raise.
The ring from the telephone interrupted his thoughts. "I hope it's not some dumb bastard from the office calling me to ask some stupid questions about the assignments," he muttered, lifting the phone from the cradle.
"Hello," he said in an unfriendly tone.
"What's the address of the place where the dance is being held tonight?" an unfamiliar voice on the other end of the phone asked. Dan paused, and again the voice repeated the question.
"What is this, some sort of gag?" Dan asked.
"It's no gag. The ad in the paper says, 'Gala dance tonight, select group, college grads only'. "
Dan's mind raced quickly. "What paper did you say you saw it in?"
"I didn't say," the voice replied, "but it's on page twenty-seven in the News."
"Hold it a minute," Dan said as he quickly thumbed through the paper. There it was in broad black type: 'Gala Dance Tonight, Select Group, College Graduates Only. For address, please phone so and so.' It's my number all right, except for the last digit. Once again lifting the phone, this time in a much friendlier tone of voice, Dan said, "Sorry pal, but you got the last number wrong. You dialed three instead of two."
There was a pause on the other end. Then the voice said, "Oh, I'm sorry."
"That's okay, pal," Dan laughed good-naturedly as he hung up.
Yeah, it looked like a nice day and he had fourteen of them, all dedicated to having a good time.
As Dart went back to the couch and began looking at the brochures again, he began to think of the phone call and the dance that was scheduled for this evening. I wonder, he thought, could this be fate's way of telling me that I should look into this? After all, I didn't plan to leave town until tomorrow afternoon. What the hell, maybe I'll give this thing a whirl.
Picking up the paper, he gingerly dialed the number and a rather sexy voice on the other end gave him an address to one of midtown's most prominent hotels.
"It starts at nine p.m., " she said.
"I'll be there, baby," he laughed as he hung up, "with balls on."
"Yes, this just might be something," he said to himself, as he rubbed his penis visualizing what the female voice at the other end of the line looked like.