The Assignment · Part I

It was the first time that Serena had given me a task to perform in “public” so to speak … at least outside of the bounds of her house or my own apartment. Not that she ever hesitated to direct me when were out to dinner, say, or at a party. But this time it was different. In those other occasions it would have taken more than a casual observer to note the subtleties of her orders; how she never requested anything from me, but always ordered something done. It was always “Stephen, get my purse,” or “Stephen, go fetch the car and pick me up out front” … never “Stephen, will you please …” And it was always “Stephen,” never “Steve,” which I prefer. Being called Stephen makes me feel like I am back in junior high school … a state of which I often feel in when near her.

But this … situation was new. Just the recollection of the voicemail she left me this morning still makes my heart race.

"Stephen, I left an envelope for you taped to your refrigerator. There is an address written on the front, and a key inside. As soon as you return from work, fetch the envelope and immediately go to the address and let yourself in with the key. On the inside of the front door will be a note with your instructions. Be sure to follow them to the letter, Stephen."

...