The
Black Knight Squash Fiction League Match #2
The Handouts versus The Tin Ringers
EAST
SIDE A
Collaborative Novel
Chapter 6
The Night is Young by Georgetta L. Morque
Margaret arrived at the designated luxury apartment on Central Park
South in her sheared mink jacket with chinchilla trim somewhat early
for her 7 p.m. meeting. Her client had rescheduled his noon appointment
due to some unforeseen work conflict. But Margaret didn’t mind. This
left her more time in the city to roam about, check out some Madison
Avenue boutiques and pop into her favorite hair salon where the famous
Austin shuffled his schedule around to accommodate her. Although she’d
been to her stylist on the Island in the morning, her travels
throughout the windy winter day caused havoc to her hair. But Austin
would fix that, making sure that her thick streaked blonde mane fell
just so, with a sweep over the left side, revealing her most flattering
features and strategically placing wisps to downplay the ones less so.
Margaret also had plenty of time to make sure the apartment was up to
the highest standards. If not, all she had to do was ring a buzzer for
the concierge.
Chilled champagne - check,
Plush bathrobes – check,
Working Jacuzzi spa tub – check,
Fully stocked bar - check.
She admired her reflection in the large mirror in the Italian marble
powder room and thought, not half bad,
as she refreshed her makeup.
She had gotten into the habit of afternoon appointments mainly because
of Kate who was in school during the day. Now that Kate was older and
out of the house, Margaret was free to do whatever she wanted whenever
she wanted. At first Margaret didn’t want Kate to know about her escort
service business for high level male executives. “Why can’t you be a
normal mother,” Kate had shouted at Margaret when she ultimately
learned what she had suspected for quite some time. But Margaret wasn’t
too concerned about Kate’s reaction. It wasn’t the first time Kate
expressed anger at her mother. Besides, she was bringing in big bucks
for both of them.
Hank with his squash pro salary could never support Margaret’s busy
lifestyle of at-home personal training and massages, regular Botox,
facials and eyelash extensions, an ever-changing wardrobe from top
designers and constant redecorating, let alone maid service and
gardeners.
Margaret pulled open the gold brocade drapes of the floor to ceiling
windows in the living room to look down at Central Park, which was
alive with people in spite of the cold night. Even without
sunshine, warmth and greenery, horse and carriage rides made their
rounds, and runners and bikers took laps under a sky lit by traffic
lights and street lamps. Up on the 14th floor, Margaret could still
hear horns, sirens and the hum of buses and trucks, the wacky jazzy
beat of the city.
After adjusting the sound system to a cocktail type mix to muffle the
noise outside, she sat down and stretched her long legs on an oriental
ottoman in the parlor room, gazed at the eclectic mix of paintings on
the walls and glanced at her Cartier watch. It was 6:55 p.m. Soon her
company would arrive. Margaret didn’t know too much about this
particular client except that he was known as a New York real estate
tycoon.
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“That should wrap it up,” said Logan, New Look Magazine’s talented
young photographer from Brooklyn. Kate was pleased since it was her
first fashion shoot and it went well, thanks in part to Logan, whose
upbeat personality had put her at ease. She had been instrumental in
choosing the models and arranging the clothes and accessories. Her
suggestions had impressed her boss at High Design, as well as the
creative director at New Look, who booked the shoot in the club room of
a new luxury high rise condo in West Chelsea. The pool and ping-pong
tables provided the perfect background for High Design’s new line of
active wear for beyond the gym. Colorful crop top sweat shirts matched
with striped leggings worked well with the room’s ultra modern decor of
black and red walls, black tiled tables and red lounge chairs. Black
and white murals depicted scenes from the neighborhood in a minimalist
style, while exotic plants soared out of large shiny black pots.
“Would you like to see the rest of the facility?” asked the condo’s
marketing assistant Tess, a tall curvy redhead and an aspiring actress
from Greenleaf, Idaho. “I’m happy to show you all around,” she said to
the group since the shoot was finished.
“Thanks Tess,” said Logan, “but we need to head on back to the office –
deadlines, you know,” he replied, packing up with the rest of the New
Look staff, who said goodbye and thank you to Tess.
“I’d love a tour,” said Kate, who along with her colleagues and
the models, followed Tess past the colorful children’s play room and
then downstairs to the swimming pool, hot tub and fitness center, which
was filled with every type of cardio equipment imaginable, a separate
weight room and something else that totally surprised Kate.
“A squash court!”
“You know about squash?” asked Tess. “I’d never heard of it before. I
think it must be kind of like racquetball.”
“I do know squash,” said Kate, without elaborating.
Then they took a long elevator ride to the top floor party room and
terrace that overlooked the Hudson.
“There’s a party here tonight hosted by one of our partners for a radio
executive, our first tenant,” explained Tess. “If you want to go, I can
put your names on the list.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “That’s going to be the signature cocktail,” noted
Tess as a bartender whipped up a concoction in multiple blenders. “It’s
called the
Ryder.”
.
And there in the corner was Ryder himself, one of Manhattan’s more popular
DJs getting ready for the evening. Two techies were setting up strobe
lights while shirtless male waiters with body art on their chests and
backs were getting instructions from a head waiter and a female hostess
in a gold mini skirt and sequin halter top raced around with a clip
board. Two maintenance men were assembling a dance floor.
“As you can see,” said Tess. It’s going to be amazing.”
------------------------------------------
Yvette looked at her phone. She would have to text Hank. The traffic on
Lexington Avenue wasn’t moving an inch. She would be later than she
expected. She could just jump out and hop on the no. 6 train and walk a
couple of blocks, but Yvette wasn’t a subway girl. She preferred to cab
it everywhere. Besides, it was cold.
Georgetta
Morqueis
a public relations consultant and freelance writer. Born and raised in
New York City, she acquired the passion for squash through the legacy
of her late father, Joseph J. Lordi, a national squash tennis champion
and two-term president of the New York Athletic Club where the squash
courts are dedicated to his memory. Georgetta is the founder of
the squash program at the Rye school district in New York’s Westchester
County and was instrumental in creating the Fairwest league for public
schools. She is the mother of three athletes, including a son who plays
on the squash team at Franklin & Marshall College.
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
