by Lily Tierney
Originally from Texas, Della is working temp jobs in New York City. Her dream was to become a poet. She is currently working as a receptionist at an ad agency in midtown. The Personnel Department asked her if she was interested in working full time with them. Della immediately said yes. The job was easy enough answering phones, greeting guests, and receiving some packages.
Della had a roommate in her tiny apartment on York Avenue. She was hoping to be able to afford her own place, but she realized that was a ways off. Her best friend, Diane was now married with a baby on the way. Diane would tease her about getting married and starting a family herself. Della thought one day, but not now.
It was Friday afternoon about 4:30p.m. At 5:00 o’clock she would close the phone down and lock the door behind her. A young man named Theodore walked past and started talking to her. He worked in the Art Department as a copywriter. Della thought he was cute, and flirted with him. He asked her if she had any plans for this evening. Della said she had none. He then invited her to a friend’s place in SoHo. He said his friend was having a party tonight and she was welcome to come along. Della thought that would be interesting. She met Theodore by the elevator banks, and they were both on their way to SoHo. The subway was just down the block, and the ride would be fast on the express train downtown.
Della had never been to SoHo before. To her it was a ritzy place with artists. His friend lived in a loft in an old building with an equally old elevator. They ascended to the third floor and got out. Once she stepped inside the loft she was floored. It was like nothing she had seen before. The place was huge with while columns and a large beautiful expensive rug. The furniture was antique start out of an auction house.
Theo, to his friends, introduced her to a man named Lane. He was tall, dark, and handsome In that order. She fell for him like a ton of bricks. Della was blushing and words were inadequate. She just stared into his eyes and smiled. He smiled back. Lance asked her did she want a drink? “How about champagne,” he asked. “Yes,” she replied. He got a glass and poured from a bottle of very expensive champagne. She was impressed. He then offered Della a seat on one of his couches. Della could not believe this handsome stranger was paying attention to her. She was flattered.
She found out Lance was living on a trust fund from his wealthy parents. He didn’t have to get a real job. He dabbled in art a bit, but confessed he was not that good. Della told him about her longing to be a poet, and admitted she was not that good either. Unlike Lance, Della had bills to pay. She needed a job. It was around 11:30 that evening when she decided to leave. Lance offered to pay the cab fare back to her apartment. She agreed. On the ride home in the cab, she realized Lance never asked for her number. Well, it was a fun evening, anyway.
Monday morning was hectic. The phones didn’t stop ringing and applicants were all over the reception area trying out for a spot in a commercial. Della looked for Theo all morning, but he was nowhere in sight. She couldn’t wait to go to lunch to get out of this madhouse. Just before lunch, she spotted Theo. He said hello and Della asked how Lance was. He looked at Della with a sly smile and said he has been asking about her as well. She returned to the madhouse after lunch. It didn’t quiet down to later that afternoon. She was exhausted. She started to pack up for the evening, and the phone rang. She answered it. Lance was on the other end. Della was overjoyed. She forgot about her hectic day. Lance asked if she could come over for dinner. She excitedly said yes. Two minutes later she was out the door on her way to Lance’s loft.
When she got there, Lance opened the door looking every inch the handsome devil he was. Della could not take her eyes off of him. He invited her in and asked would French cuisine be okay? Della thought if he offered her a can of sardines she would be in heaven. Della sat on the same couch the first time they met. Lance looked at her, touched her check then kissed her. Della was not expecting this. They looked into each other’s eyes and kissed again. The buzzer downstairs rang with the food. Lance buzzed the delivery up. She could smell the food as he opened the bag. It was going to be a fantastic evening. She was starving. They ate, and were joking and laughing about their days in school. Della went to school in a small Texas
Town, while Lance went to private schools in Manhattan. They finished their dinner, and Lance offered her some wine and music. “What music would you like, Della?” he asked. She thought smooth jazz would be good. Lance put on some sexy smooth jazz. They spent the night together. Della was falling hard for him. She knew she cared deeply for him. She didn’t know how Lance felt. He didn’t say anything.
The next morning he was quiet, and made Della breakfast. She really wasn’t hungry. She had a headache from too much wine the night before. He told her he had to see an art dealer later in the morning. Della got her things together, and left. He didn’t kiss her goodbye, just closed the door behind him. Della was sad and started to cry on her way to the subway. She wondered if Lance was just having fun with her. Della arrived home, turned the key in the lock went inside. She collapsed on her bed. She knew Lance was not in love with her.
The following Monday, she saw Theo at work. He didn’t say anything to her. She felt he was definitely avoiding her. Lance never called again. She never asked about him either. Della realizes she fell for a guy she hardly knew. She wanted to believe it was love. Lance was a ladies’ man. Della knew that now. She was one of many women who were taken in by his charm and good looks.
Della has moved on from the ad agency and works in real estate. She now has her own place, and knows love is not a four line poem. It is a lifetime of commitment.
She still writes poetry, and is still looking for that someone special. This time she knows love take time. She thought that may be a good title for a poem!
* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright Lily Tierney 2017