Submitting your vote... Letters : 10619 Words : 1998
As planned, I called Amanda the next day, around noon.
"Hello?", she replied with her simply sexy voice.
"Hello Amanda, it's Jerry. I hope I am not bothering you"
"Not at all, I was just thinking about you!"
"Well, I realized that in all of the excitement of the night, I gave you my phone number, but I didn't get yours. I thought that perhaps you didn't want to see me again...", she laughed but with a laughter which seemed to hide a certain discomfort. As if she was afraid to sound too desperate.
"Well, I do have caller id. I just saved it in my favorites, but then again my dentist is there too so it doesn't mean much.", her tone of voice could tell me that she was clearly flirting with me, so I decided to risk it right away.
"I hope I can turn this around. When do you think we could see each other again?"
"How about tonight? Yesterday you picked the restaurant. Now it's my turn: on Sunday evenings, the restaurant on the 17th floor always has a special meal."
So it would be a nude date once more. I thought of risking saying something like "Oh, so you want to see me naked again", but I thought it was too much double entendre. I wanted to show that I was a true naturist and not a pervert wanting to see her naked at all cost.
Instead, I went with: "It's a date. When do you want me over?"
I always dreamed of living in a naturist center but all of them were far away from the city and with my real estate agent job, I really didn't need even more commute time. Amanda's apartment seemed the perfect compromise: it was like living in a naturist resort but deep in the city.
Within 10 minutes of hanging up, I was in my car, driving to her apartment.
I know, you will probably say that most New York residents prefer the subway or even the cabs, but the reality was that as a real estate agent, I had to drive my customers around when visiting.
It made me an expert at avoiding traffic jams as well as in finding good parking spots. Sure, I had to walk the rest of the way but I was in good shape.
I nervously rang her apartment and after a quick ride in the elevator, was standing in front of her door.
I was surprised to find her wearing a red cocktail dress, making her a lot classier than my current suit pants and green shirt combo.
I complimented her on her dress and she said the shirt helped bring out of the colors of my eyes, whatever that meant. It wasn't the first time I heard it, but as a guy, I could only thank her without really grasping meant it really meant. I knew it was a compliment, but to me it was the same as "I like your shirt".
Amanda offered me an orange juice instead of wine and soon enough we were sitting in her living room with a glass of OJ each, still wearing our clothes.
She opened the talking: "I was thinking about something you said last night, in the pool. I don't know why, but yesterday it just flew over my head and this morning, it resonated."
"Does it happen often?"
"Professional trait I guess. As a detective I need to rethink about every interrogation because sometimes, a truth slips between two lies. So, I thought about what you said, about naturism being a choice for you and not so much a lifestyle."
"Yeah, I think it was in response to Eddie who said it was a lifestyle for him." I tried to remember exactly what he had said, but his words escaped me.
"Indeed. I realized this morning that it is closer than what I think. For Harry, naturism was truly a lifestyle but for me it was more of something to do. When this building opened, we decided to take an apartment but even thought I love naturism, it's not something that defining for me."
"Do you mean that for you, naturism is something you want to do whenever you feel like it, but from time to time, you want to dress up?", I asked for clarification.
"Yeah, I guess I do. Harry never understood why I had so much clothes. To him, it was ridiculous. Clothes were what you wore when you had to dress up, not something to express yourself with. He was a cop too and I think he only owned one pair of pants that were no for work."
"Well, to me, clothes and naturism are ways to express yourself. Everything you do is a way to express yourself. You decided to wear this nice red cocktail dress and you expressed yourself. If naturism is about freedom, you should be able to choose what you want to do."
"That's what I like about living here. I do what I want in my own apartment. There are weeks during which I never go to the other sides, and some week-ends where I don't wear anything."
"Indeed. Jerry, I think you fully understand."
"You cook?"
"Do I cook? My cooking is renowned! My mother kept insisting I should open a restaurant, but cooking for money and cooking for love are two different things."
"It depends. I can give you a menu."
"Ooh, like a real restaurant"
"And you'll have the best table of the house!"
She laughed once more.
I pulled the closest chair and helped her sit.
"Now, if you excuse me young Lady, I have to check our inventory"
But, I managed to find a few interesting thing in her kitchen. She complained a few times that she wanted to look and help me, but I had to assure her that everything was in order.
Sadly, there wasn't enough for an actual menu, so I simply proposed the chef's special, which, in this case, was composed of the last few pieces of pasta found at the bottom of 3 boxes, some frozen breaded chicken filet which I un-breaded and braised in a pan along with some onions and little bit of carrots. Her olive oil perfect for the task and I manage to whip a nice sauce with some flour and milk. She had carrots with leaves still on them so I use them to help with the presentation.
It wouldn't be a gourmet meal per se, but I was hoping to score some points with her by using the little I had for me.
While cooking, Amanda told me exciting stories from her police work including some gory details of a bust gone wrong.
Most women seem to have their appetite spoiled by the thought of blood, but not Amanda.
Instead, her eyes opened up when she saw the plates I had prepared.
I explained everything and I quickly realized that she was completely enchanted by my inspiration and completely surprised by the taste of everything.
"You know Jerry, if, as a detective I had to recreate the scene of the crime and discover where you got everything, I would be completely lost."
Amanda had her mouth full but her eyes showed me she wanted to know more.
"You must already know that the smell of fresh cookies can help to sell a house. In fact, they make fresh cookies air fresheners for realtors like me. But I sometimes go above and beyond and prepare snacks for a visit and even meals when it's time to sign a new house for sale."
"Not when you sell the house?"
"The one thing that most people don't understand, is that the hardest part of our job is not selling houses, it's getting houses to sell. Once I sign a house, I have a few weeks to make it known, to try to get interest, to find a buyer. But once a person decides they want to sell their house, they usually find a realtor within 24 hours. Most people are difficult buyers and inspect the houses they want to buy. No one inspects their real estate agent. You need your name out there so that they think about you."
"And cooking for them makes them talk about you to their friend."
"It's a little like this new drug I told you about, Bliss. Dealers we manage to arrest explain that one of the reasons they switched from their old supplier to Bliss is not just because it's cheaper, but it's because they get their first few shipments for free. Whoever is behind this is brilliant."
"Yeah, you told me about it the first time. Is it more dangerous?"
"That's the odd thing. Not one overdose from it. And the crack-like version doesn't cause violent outbursts like crack usually does."
"It sounds like it's almost a good thing, isn't it?"
She seemed lost in her thoughts. I wondered if perhaps, Harry had been shot in duty. I mean, the odds were stacked in that direction.
Sadly, our meal got interrupted when she was asked to report to the station because of her guys had shot a dealer in a bust gone wrong.
I proposed to clean up behind her, so which she thanked me profusely.
She quickly changed out of her dress and into her uniform, without bothering to close her bedroom door behind her. I saw glimpses of her nude body but I didn't stare: it's not my style.
She gave me a key to lock up behind me and kissed me passionately on the mouth.
As quickly as she had undressed the first time I entered her apartment, I was now left alone and in charge of in her absence.