engaged in conversation. Amongst the cacophony is the very distinct sound of sharp male shoes against the garage asphalt. I turn my head and see the handsome stranger.
His back is turned to me. Fuck! I can’t see his face. But I can see his shoulders, his legs and that very round rump of his. Yeah, he looks as good going and he does coming towards me. I just stand there and watch my obsession walk away from me. As I take a step towards him, I am nearly knocked over by a group of women headed to their cars. That jolts me back into reality. Alright, I got my eight seconds of thrill. That will have to hold me over until tomorrow.
***
It’s Friday. The end of the week is always slow at the office. I’ve been working reception at Cole Group for almost six months and I am not even sure what they do as business. I think they are an ad agency or a marketing research group. I have no idea. All I know is that everyone always seems to take off at around 4:30 on Fridays. By 5:15, it is a dead zone. It’s 5:30 right now. The office is so dead that I can actually hear the faint sounds of the janitorial crew rolling their cleaning carts onto the hardwood floors. To be honest, the only thing keeping me here is my hopeful 6:00 “handsome stranger” sighting. At 5:45, the officer manager walks past the reception desk and says, “You can leave if you want, Carrie.”
“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll stay for a few more minutes.”
“Wow. Usually, I have to worry about reception people leaving early. You are just the opposite. Good for you,” the office manager says as she walks off.
Yeah, little does she know I am delaying my weekend for one of the most pathetic reasons imaginable.
6:00 p.m.! I rush out of the office and head downstairs. I am one of the only people to leave the building. The traffic in downtown LA is lighter than usual. There are less than five people at the crosswalk leading up to the parking garage. I walk up to the pedestrian entrance of the parking garage and look around for that tall drink of sexy. Nothing. Perhaps my handsome stranger decided to start the weekend off early. Of course he did. As I walk up the garage stairs, I can hear the echoes of my own footsteps. There are only a handful of cars on each level of the garage. On the good side, I should be able to get home to my Culver City apartment in record time.
I reach level three and see my little Honda parked all alone. As I walk towards my vehicle, I notice someone from across the garage. It’s him! I can tell right away by that confident stride. I quickly run across the garage to catch a peek of my favorite handsome stranger. He is walking away from me again. Oh, so this will be two whole days I don’t get to see his gorgeous face, deep brown eyes and full lips. Oh well, at least I get a nice view of that butt!
Unlike yesterday, there is nothing standing between us. I keep about ten feet away from the suited stud. This is so weird. I used to stare at the man. With us all alone in this garage, I feel like a stalker! The stranger walks around a corner. I quickly turn to follow him when he stops in his tracks. Oh fuck. He knows he is being followed! I duck back behind the corner, holding my back up against the wall. I hear him turn around. I am so busted. I know he is looking back towards me. What do I do? If he comes back around the corner, he will know that it was me. I slowly peek my head around the corner.
I see the tall stud looking back towards me. I don’t think he has spotted me, though he is definitely looking around for someone. As I stare at him, my body freezes. I should go back to my car. Every few seconds I steal a peek at the handsome stranger’s face, I expose myself. The man looks around. Then, I swear, he makes eye contact with me. It’s only a split second moment. But in that moment, I am sure he sees me. The stranger turns back around and continues to walk away.
I nervously head back
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