February '13 Elimination

Please vote for the story you like best and the winner will be taking part in the final vote at the end of the year.

Discussion of the stories, to avoid influencing the outcome of the poll, are not allowed.

If contributers would like to ask questions, they should email us at [email protected].

Please note that the authors agree to keep their identities secret when they enter the competition.
Those who breach this rule will be disqualified automatically.

Good luck, everyone! :)

Competition Rules
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Note: This poll will close on February 28, 2013.
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Remembering Mariah

Denise arrived home at noon in time for the Stevenson’s party and her husband Greg came from the grocery story with a bottle of wine.

“You’re not going to bring that,” Denise insisted placing a more appropriate wine on the counter.

“How’s Mariah?”

The company party celebrating the completion of a major project went on longer than expected and Denise missed the last train to the suburbs. A few weekends ago, she invited Mariah to their home and Mariah agreed to let her spend the night at her apartment downtown.

Mariah was efficient, creative and usually right in her judgments. Her cooperativeness encouraged everyone to be cooperative. In a corporate environment, she was so perfect that Denise, the project lead, felt it wouldn’t hurt if she messed up occasionally to make the rest of them, in particular, her, look better. At her last review with management, every specific request for improvement Denise imagined as, “Be more like Mariah.”

If brains, beauty and brilliance fit together, Mariah would be the evidence. Every man she worked with felt he was her favorite and knew her best and yet they all knew she had a boyfriend whom even the most carefree, testosterone-overdosed male in the office respected out of respect for her. He wouldn’t have got far anyway. That made her even more desirable. Looking in the mirror after her shower, Denise knew, at a pure, skin-deep, centerfold level, and that is all real men care about, she was still way better than Mariah was. All she could see that she lacked was Mariah’s relative youth and the appearance of waif-like, love-me innocence.

Denise decided to take a stand, “Mariah’s a slut.”

“Did something happen last night?”

“No, but Mariah could get into trouble at work if she’s not careful.”

When you’re married to someone impatiently chasing after life, you learn survival patterns to get out of the way. Greg assumed Denise expected Mariah to mop up her moodiness and, like a healthy human being, Mariah refused. That’s how he viewed Denise’s ongoing problems at work since that’s how things worked at home.

Denise never accused Greg, since there wasn’t any evidence, but she thought he had affairs. Her fantasies of his behavior were more wonderful than anything Greg came up with for himself with exotic girls who’d leave no obligations teasing him to a heaven of laughter, kisses, and gazing-into-his-eyes tenderness that no amount of eye-candy porn could duplicate. If she ever found out about them, she’d bring him back to hell. Just where was he last night? Sure, he was home when she called, but he could have gone out afterwards. His business trips gave him weeks of opportunity. She confided these doubts about him to Mariah who said in his defense, “Greg reminds me of Jake. You’d have to leave him first, if you really wanted to.”

Mark and Ruth Stevenson lived in the lot next to theirs. After welcoming them, receiving the wine and handing out beers, Mark asked, “Hey, Greg, how’s Mariah?” Ruth looked at her husband ready to witness any delightful nonsense he might have to say.

“Denise just told me she’s a slut,” Greg said wondering if perhaps he should not have disclosed that.

“What! She’s gorgeous!” Mark giggled.

“She is beautiful,” Ruth confirmed, enjoying her husband’s energy. She knew Mariah’s being a slut only made her more attractive to him. “Why would you say such a thing, Denise?”

Denise laughed. She would deal with Greg later. “Last night Mariah was--how shall I put it?--cruel and yet overly flirty with an old boyfriend of hers.”

“I love hot, flirty girls!” Mark said. He believed that constant unsuccessful attempts at procreation were the biological reason why he was born.

“Did she give you a lap dance, Greg? Is that why Denise is so annoyed with her?” Ruth pulled a triple-tease with that one. Greg, whom she correctly assumed had never had a lap dance of any sort in his life, could now fantasize that Ruth wouldn’t mind giving him a decent one. She reminded Denise that she thought Greg was attractive even though Denise had him locked down as her husband and Mark could continue suspecting her of mischievous improprieties. Whatever the men took from Ruth’s suggestion, Denise gave the Stevenson’s credit for scheduling their party when the hostess was ovulating, however, she expected Greg to have better taste in women, or at least be discrete, and either of these eliminated Ruth from consideration.

“Is her friend as good looking as she is?” Mark asked.

“Oh! Yes! Jake’s also a rising star at the Board of Trade, but his apartment’s shabby. He only has a table that he uses as a desk and a bed.”

“You saw his apartment!” Ruth couldn’t let this slip by unnoticed.

“We only stopped by on the way to Mariah’s because the little tart wanted to pester him.”

Since other guests arrived, Mark and Ruth had to leave it at that.

Something about last night still bothered Denise. Mariah and Jake were also uncomfortable. At this time, Mariah and her brother were getting her apartment in order. She took a break. Jake was walking by the lake texting his ten-year old sister who wanted to know when she would see him again. He paused and stared blankly through the trees and skyscrapers.

They would all agree that the first two hours the women spent at Jake’s apartment were pleasant. When they got tired of talking, they would dance with Jake to any music streaming through his computer while Mariah served Denise and Jake what alcohol he had.

Denise remembered hearing that Mariah said, “Jake is no longer my boyfriend.” Reciprocating such intimate disclosures, she repeated her complaint that she thought her husband was cheating on her. No wonder they thought she was available. Even she thought, just this one time, she could be available regardless what her husband was doing on the side, but she told herself that she‘d have to stop saying things like that in the future. She heard Jake and Mariah whisper phrases she didn’t completely follow like, “It’s over…It’s not…I’ll wait…I won’t let you…It’s far…We can do this…We can’t.” It made her wonder whether they broke up or not. There was no reason for them to break up, from her perspective, and she would love to help them get back together again, but she had no idea how she could do that. She remembered Mariah saying to Jake, “Your bed makes me seasick.” That didn’t stop her from bouncing her butt on it purring, “And that’s why I don’t love you.” Men are fools. Mariah could say anything and Jake would still believe she loved him. It made Denise want to yell, “If you really want to break up with a guy, you should do it privately and not tease him at the same time,” but she was laughing too hard.

They could have gone on all night like that falling asleep finally on the carpet or perhaps seeing if three people could get any sleep together in a twin bed, but Mariah blew it.

The evening ended when Maria opened Jake’s shirt and removed it while avoiding his kisses. By itself, this wasn’t a problem, at least for Denise, since Jake was sitting by her on the bed. Mariah kissed him longingly on his lips and then said, looking into his eyes, “Jake, I know you meant well, but this is what you get for coming to the bar.” Mariah took some steps back and asked Denise, “Have you ever stripped for a man? First, you take off your top.” Mariah lifted her white cotton sweater up over her head, and so far, everything was still okay since Jake and Denise wanted her to continue which she did, “Then the pants.” While removing them, her chattiness began to get distracting, “Jake, you make good money at the Board of Trade. How do you expect to get a girl to have sex with you in a place like this? This place is a dump even by guy standards.” Reaching behind her back for the bra clasp, she pouted, “And you’re so possessive.” Mariah played with her final piece of clothing, amused that even Denise told her to take it off, when she confessed, “Jake, remember when I was out-of-town last month? I slept with someone else.”

No man needs to know everything.

Although Denise could not believe Mariah said that, it was her turn.

Jake said to himself that he didn’t care with whom Mariah had sex, but that only raised other things to his consciousness that he might care about in its place. Suddenly he was aware that Mariah was offering Denise, who was at least ten years older than he was, to him as her replacement. Seriously, did Mariah actually think he couldn’t find a better woman on his own without her baby-sitting assistance? Did Denise think her husband problem, whatever it was, if it was anything at all, was his to fix? Mariah wanted him out of her way. That’s fine! He got up from the bed and turned off the music. Then go! On the way out, could she please take Denise with her? He watched Denise quickly button her blouse embarrassed that she misjudged the situation. She was annoyed at Mariah for spoiling the evening.

The women left.

Mariah expected the evening to end with Jake having sex with Denise right in front of her. Denise seemed to want that. Jake seemed to want that. She was encouraging them. True, if Jake did that, it would break her heart, but it would also break the spell between them. Then maybe they could move on. Now, she was glad none of that happened and she searched for a door in the wall of fantasy she built between herself and Jake. The only good thing that came out of her chatter was she put on a show that Denise could not follow. Why did Denise INSIST on seeing Jake’s apartment ANYWAY? What did she think she was going to DO there? Jake was HER boyfriend no matter WHAT she might have said to the contrary. “Keep your hands off my man!”

“Are you alright, Sis?” Mariah’s brother broke her concentration. At the Stephenson’s party, Greg asked Denise why she wasn’t drinking her beer. In the park, Jake inhaled the warm, summer air and continued his walk.

On Monday morning, the email announcement of Mariah’s promotion came as a surprise to her entire team, including Denise. Her flight would arrive at London Heathrow later that afternoon. Denise almost told Greg that Mariah slept her way to the top, but reconsidered, giving him an unexpected hug instead. She missed Mariah understanding that Mariah most likely did not miss her.

Since Greg hardly knew Mariah, his thoughts of her shifted to remembering how Ruth’s eyes sparkled when she mentioned his missed lap dance. He wondered what that would have been like, not with Mariah, who out of respect for Denise exchanged no erotic energy with him, but with playful Ruth, or, after her unconditional hug, with his own wife who suddenly seemed to slow her pace and let life chase her for a change.

Jake’s memories of Mariah went deep into the blur of their forgotten pasts. While he was adjusting himself to a future without her by telling himself he was glad to be rid of her, on Saturday, after her apartment was empty and the security guard took the keys, Mariah called him and explained that it would be easier to get to the airport from downtown rather than from her parent’s home. They both knew that was a lie, but it worked.

DocHeart voted, and is going to have souvlaki take-away.

http://images.wisegeek.com/classic-gyro-sandwich.jpg

Quote:

Originally Posted by DocHeart

DocHeart voted, and is going to have souvlaki take-away.

That's easy! I was worried that you might ask for a plate of dolmades or something.

Sancho voted!

Did somebody say salsa?
http://i971.photobucket.com/albums/a...ps8a246fbf.jpg

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sancho

Did somebody say salsa?

If not, they should!

Wow. Middle of the month and only three votes. At least everyone got a vote! I guess that counts for something!

We need more votes, boys and girls.

(Otherwise, I will have to message everyone one by one...)

I voted! :)

Knowing the coast is clear, I Just voted!

Going once...

I voted.

Oh darn. I must have missed the deadline and the poll closed. I thought we had until the end of the day of the 28th. I guess that's Greenwich time? I guess it best I not say how I would have voted. Congrats to the winner.

Congratulations to the writer of "Waiting for the Light to Change", who is the winner of February elimination round.

You can now submit your stories for April.