“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the time difference,” Samantha said. “It’s so weird, like I’m always running late or something.”
“You? Late? Never,” Denise joked.
“Ok, talk soon. Love you.”
“Love you.”
Samantha hit end on her cell and put it down beside the glass of wine. She grabbed her glass, took a sip, and cried.
CHAPTER 6
Jason awoke to the sound of heavy drops of rain hitting the bedroom windows. Raining again, he thought. Great.
He reached over to grab his phone, and quick panic shot up his spine. His hand grasped nothing; he looked over to an empty nightstand. Empty except for the lamp. The deep fear of being late for his second day of work worked him over like a fever. His heart began to pump; sweat began to bead on his forehead. Just then, his alarm broke the silence. Relief and confusion swept over him like a wave. “What the…” he muttered.
Jason reached down and pulled on the brass handle of the wooden nightstand. Inside were the contents of what should have been on top of the stand. His phone was there, and the book he had been reading before he turned the light out to sleep was too. Even the short glass of water, a quarter full, peered up at him from its odd hiding place.
“That’s fuckin’ weird,” he said to himself.
Samantha stirred as she made her way back to consciousness. She rolled over and began tracing imaginary curved lines on Jason’s naked back. “Morning,” she said sweetly.
“Did you put all my stuff in the drawer last night after I fell asleep?” Jason asked.
“What? Why would I do that?”
Sam propped herself up and looked over Jason’s toned back.
“Your stuff is in the drawer?”
“I woke up, and the table was empty. Then I thought I slept in ’cause I didn’t hear my alarm. Then the stupid alarm went off inside the table. I opened it up, and fuck me, everything that was on top is inside. How?”
“Maybe you put it all in there and forgot,” Sam suggested. “No friggin’ way. Why would I do that? My glass? Why would I put a glass of water in my nightstand? Doesn’t make any sense,” Jason complained.
“Well, you must have done it in your sleep then. Either that or we have ghosts,” Samantha said.
Jason had already pulled his phone out to silence the offensive alarm. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, took out the other items, and placed them on top of the table. The wood quietly squeaked as he closed the drawer.
“I must have moved it in my sleep. How creepy is that?”
Jason gave the table one last look and headed for the shower.
* * *
“Parasomnia,” said a voice from the kitchen.
“What?” replied Jason.
He toweled off the remaining moisture from his naked body, wrapped the towel around his waist, and left the bathroom. In the kitchen, Sam had her laptop open behind the island while turkey-bacon and eggs bubbled and popped behind her on the stove.
“Couldn’t hear you,” Jason repeated.
“Parasomnia,” Sam began again, “is a group of unusual behaviors that can involve talking, walking, or even moving things around while in or transitioning into various stages of sleep.”
Jason walked over to see the laptop. He scrolled the document briefly and closed the computer.
“So, I’m just moving shit around in my sleep now. What’s next? Sleep sex?” he asked.
Samantha turned the oven dials off and removed the pans of food from the hot burners. She turned and grabbed Jason by the towel.
“Would that be so bad?”
She pulled him closer as her almond-shaped eyes looked into his seductively. He looked down at her plump lips; soft and supple. He smiled, and his dimples popped on his freshly shaven cheeks. Samantha’s hand came up to caress his cheek, and she kissed him gently. Her hand slowly traced its way down his neck and onto his bare chest. Samantha’s hand continued down and tucked itself into Jason’s growing towel.
“I mean, yeah,” he breathed. “I’d rather be awake.” Sam kissed him once more.
“You better get dressed and eat; you don’t want to be late.”
She gave his toweled bum a playful smack and turned to finish with breakfast.
“Damnit,” he said as he looked at the stove clock. “Wish I could just stay home.”
* * *
The heavy rain had subsided into a fine mist so that when Jason arrived at his office tower, he was not completely soaked from the calves down. He crammed himself into the elevator once more, feeling much like a sardine would, he thought, if it wasn’t dead and had no feelings. There wasn’t much talk from the other elevator occupants this morning, just a heavy kind of silence.
The elevator ding indicated to Jason that it was his stop, and he thankfully exited the claustrophobic box.
“Good morning Veronica,” he said as he walked into the main lobby of the office and past the reception desk. Veronica looked up at Jason.
“Good morning, Intellican. How may I direct your call.”
Veronica had her blonde hair up into a tight ponytail; a small blue light blinked monotonously from her Bluetooth earpiece. She smiled at Jason.
“Just one moment, please,” she instructed the caller and patched them through.
“So you liked us enough to come back a second day?” she asked.
Jason stopped, extended his security card from the retractable lanyard on his hip, and pressed it against the little black box beside the security door. It beeped and the mechanism inside the door relaxed with a click. He grasped the handle.
“So far, so good,” he said.
Jason smiled and nodded as he entered for the second day.
The main office area was mostly empty of people. Jason watched as the few people that were there dropped their jackets and bags off at their desks and headed towards the common room.
Jason followed their lead. He removed his coat and hung it over his chair. He placed his leather courier
