“When you close your eyes, do you see her? In your dreams, the one you don’t tell your wife about, is it her that you feel clinging to you, soaking you?

When your current woman asks: 'Am I the best?' Do you pause before you lie? I do. God help me, but I always do.

Unless, you’ve been where I’ve been, felt what I’ve felt, and lost what I’ve lost, then you can’t understand what I’m about to tell you. You may empathize, you may imagine, but you will never truly know, and for that you should be grateful.

I didn’t know her name, still don’t, and I don’t expect to ever see her again, but I’ll never forget her. I was in Chicago for a conference. My room was on the thirty-fifth floor of the thirty-six story Hilton. It was a pretty upscale place, in the heart of downtown, not something I could afford, but my company was paying so I enjoyed the luxury. 

Staying in a five star hotel may sound fun, but it’s not without drawbacks. The most annoying, and one I should have foreseen, was that most of the occupants were wealthy, while I was a working stiff, with a maxed-out expense account. I’m not complaining about that, or playing the woe-as-me victim card; it’s just a fact.

Anyway, being near the top of the hotel, I was usually alone when going down, but that morning there was a woman inside when I got on. She was pretty, not a movie star, but very nice looking for her age, which I guessed to be in the early thirties. She had long blonde hair, which was loose and wavy. She wore a white summer dress. Her eyes were pale blue. I remember looking up into them, and thinking how a man could easily lose himself in them.

Wait a minute; I’m getting ahead of myself. When I stepped into the elevator she did what I’ve seen most women do when a man enters with them alone; she immediately moved to the opposite side and lowered her eyes. She hit the lobby button twice, and I turned my eyes to the descending red numbers so as not to spook her.  We were between floors thirty and thirty-one when the lights went out and the elevator stopped. I heard her gasp and then the emergency light flickered on.

“Shit, it stopped,” I said, then pressed the lobby and open buttons, but got nothing. “Ah, the phone,” I said opening the small metal door and pulling out the receiver, but before I could do more.

“Those guests in the elevators should remain calm. The power is currently out in the building. We have notified the Fire Department, and they are on the way. Please, do not try to force the doors, as such action may cause the emergency brakes to release. We apologize for this inconvenience. Hilton incorporated is not responsible for the injury, decapitation, or accidental death of any guest or employee attempting to leave a stopped elevator. Thank you.”

Well, that’s that.” I hung the phone up. When I turned around she had her cell out and was waving it in the air. I quickly took my own out and then sighed. “Shit, this is bad.”

“What?” She looked at me. “You can’t get a signal either?”

“No,” I answered and removed my coat. I laid it on the floor and then sat down.

“Damn, this elevator must be blocking it.”

“It’s not the elevator. It’s the power. It’s out.”

She stared at me, with utter contempt in her eyes. “I know the power is out, but that doesn’t affect cell phones, and why are you sitting down? The fire department is on its way.”

From my position on the floor, I noticed she had nice long legs, with strong calves. She was clearly a woman who worked out. I smiled at the thought, and she must have noticed, because she took a step back. I looked up and saw that her face was a little redder than before, and I thought my grin must have spooked her.

“I wasn’t smiling at you,” I lied. “I was thinking about what you said. The fire department isn’t coming, because the power is out in the whole city. You may as well take a load off; it’s going to be awhile, even if they get it back on.”

“What do you mean? If the power is off, then our cell phone would still work.” I heard a hint of panic in her voice, and knew she was trying to convince herself, more than me.

“Sorry, lady, in downtown Chicago, the cell towers are on the grid. No signal, means no power… for anyone.”

“Do you work for the city?” she asked, her voice softening.

“No, I’m just a guy who designs cell towers.” I pulled out my Verizon ID. She closed her eyes, looked one last time at her useless phone, and then put her back to the wall.

After about an hour I had lost my tie and opened three buttons on my shirt. The woman was silent. Her only move was to take off her heels. I wiped a hand across my face and it came away wet.

“Right, no A/C.” I stood up, and took off my shirt. I looked up at a ceiling panel, and judged it to be within arm’s reach.  Standing on my toes, I reached up and pushed at the panel.

“What are you doing? Are you trying to climb out? Are you leaving me?” She sounded on the verge of hysteria and I almost laughed, but it was too hot.

I pushed hard against the panel again and it popped open. I silently thanked the elevator gods it wasn’t bolted down.  As soon as I slid the panel off a cool breeze washed over my face.

“Oh God, you’re brilliant. I’m still hot, but at least I won’t pass out.” She paused and stared at me. “I’m sorry, but please excuse me.”  Before my stunned eyes, she turned her back to me, pulled down the top of her dress, and unhooked her bra.  Her large breasts practically leapt free as her lacy undergarment hit the floor.  She quickly slipped her arms back into her dress straps and pulled up her top before my imagination filled in what I couldn’t see.

“I guess you were hot,” I said staring at her as she moved closer to the breeze and sat down.

“I was burning up. You’re lucky; you can go topless whenever you want.”

Cocking my head to side I stared at this beautiful woman and dared myself to say it. “Look, to be honest with you, I’m burning up too. I would like nothing better than to take off all these hot clothes.”

Her head lowered and her blue eyes locked onto me, as if she was trying to read my soul. I knew what she was thinking, and I didn’t blame her. Stupid men and their silly come-ons have ruined things for most men; not to mention the sickos. They have made most women fearful.

“Is that your way of--?”

I raised my hand, and she stopped in mid-sentence. “No, I’m hot and sticky. It’s just the two of us here. When those doors finally do open, it’ll be to a half dozen firemen and probably cops. I'm not interested in a hot jail cell too.”

I figured I had said enough, either she believed me to be harmless or she didn’t. I was burning up, so I began pulling off my clothes. A minute later I was sitting naked under a very weak draft, but the smile on my face spoke volumes, and I hoped my lack of an erection said even more. We sat in silence, while I listened to my little friend trying to influence me.

“I’m married,” she said out of the blue, and I opened my eyes. “It’s not a good marriage right now but,” she started twisting her wedding ring, “I want us to make it.”

Her blue eyes burned into me. In the silence I saw pain, fear, and love for her husband in her gaze. Instantly, I felt like a dirty old pervert trying to peek under a woman’s dress, so turned away.

“Look, your husband isn’t here, and we're adults who've seen nudity, right? I won’t say anything.” I knew I was pushing her, and for half-second, felt a twinge of guilt. “If you want, I’ll turn around and face the wall?”

Before she could answer, I turned, moved out of the draft and sat facing a corner.  The heat fell over me like a wet blanket, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was her sitting there, naked under that thin dress, and staring at me with those eyes.