romance short stories

Higher lover

"You know that the more times you press the "up" button . . . the faster the elevator will arrive," said Pierre mischievously as he poked away in exaggerated fury.

"You are so silly," answered the smartly dressed, young, blond haired woman with a coffee cup in her right hand . . . and a smile growing quickly across her face.

"NO . . . it's true . . . see . . . the door is opening . . . right . . . right . . . . n o w," he continued, feigning to be serious, and purposefully stretching out the word "N . . . O . . . W" to synchronize with the elevator's arrival. "And where might I might I have the pleasure of delivering you today milady . . . Paris . . . Rome . . . forty-fourth floor?" continued Pierre as he changed his routine . . . now awkwardly trying to sound British.

"Oh . . . I think should like to return to Rio . . . or . . . no . . . how about . . . the . . . forty-fourth floor?"

"My pleasure . . . milady . . . 44th floor it tis . . . but alas . . . I can only guarantee your safe passage to floor 21 as I have important business for the Crown that beckons . . . ."

Stepping off the elevator, Pierre turned back and placed his hand into the opening to prevent the door from closing, causing an alarm buzzer to sound. "This is the second time in a week that I have had the pleasure of sharing an elevator ride with you, milady, and I shan't leave you again without first learning your name . . . ."

"Sally," she replied, struggling to contain the urge to giggle.

"I'm Pierre . . . Godspeed Sally . . . Godspeed."

"Hi, Sally," said Pierre from behind . . . trying to catch up as she walked briskly across the pink marble lobby floor towards the elevators.

"Oh, hi!" she said curtly without breaking stride.

"I haven't seen you for over a week," Pierre continued, trying to pose a question, though expressed as a statement.

"Really?" answered Sally, trying to make a statement, though posed as a question.

Stammering, Pierre followed up, "so . . . uh . . . I hope the groundhog sees his shadow . . . I mean . . . doesn't see his shadow tomorrow . . . how about you?"

Sally turned and looked blankly at Pierre without speaking.

Silently, the two merged into the morning crowd awaiting the next available elevator and became separated without further intercourse.

"Where are you headed? asked the tall man in a crested blue blazer, seated comfortably in a chair beneath a "Visitors Report Here" sign.

"I have a delivery."

"Follow me," responded the attendant, walking to the closest elevator where he held his security pass up to the card reader while looking for further instruction from the delivery man.

"44, please."

"Oh, how pretty," said the receptionist. "And who is the lucky person?"

"Someone named Sally. I don't have a last name."

"Oh . . . for Sally . . . I'll take care of it."

After the elevator door had been closed for what she deemed to be a safe period of time, the receptionist opened the card attached to the vase with a red and green ribbon.

Sally,

As winter persists in extended fashion

Your occasional glimpse reignites the passion