After I finished my meeting with Marcie, Janice and Jenny I made my way out and headed towards the elevator before I remembered that it was probably still being repaired.  When I reached it I noticed the man still had the large panel out and seemed to be replacing some of the components. 

He looked up, "Sorry mister, I still need about a half hour to finish the repairs and get it tested." 

I nodded, "No problem, I can take the stairs.  Before I turned away, I noticed a cell phone on the floor of the elevator.  It looked like the one I had seen Elliott using earlier, it must have slipped out of his pocket when he was sitting on the floor.  The case was a bright neon  green, I can't believe anyone would have missed that.  "Is it okay if I just step in and grab Elliott's phone, I see that he left it inside." 

"Sure go ahead, I can take it up to him later when I go give him a report on the elevator." 

"Give him a report?" I asked. 

"Yeah, he owns the building, when I need to come do the monthly maintenance I go up and tell him or Blake, his younger brother, that I've been here." 

The sculptor owns the building, really.  "I'll go ahead and take it up to him, he might need it right away," I told the repairman. 

"Thanks, let him know I won't be too much longer." 

"Yeah."  I made my way to the stairwell and began the trek up the three more floors of stairs before I found myself at a door with a sign that said, "Elliott Eriksen, Sculptor".  I knocked tentatively on the door, when no one answered, I pushed the door open and took a few steps inside into a huge room with extremely high vaulted ceilings with huge windows and an amazing view of the neighborhood and the blue sky.  I looked around in amazement at all of the sculptures within.  Some looked finished while others looked like works in progress.  On one side was a huge tool rack with all sorts of tools I've never seen before hanging neatly with a profound sense of organization.  One I wouldn't have suspected of the somewhat sloppy way Elliott presented himself.   

In the center of the room was a rather large piece that looked like it was predominately made of a very dense, dark clay.  It stood about 4 feet tall, and equally wide and deep and looked to be a complex series of very thick rings or oblong shapes.  When I looked toward the bottom I could see bare feet sticking out, coming out of the same faded blue jeans I had seen on the man earlier. 

"Who's there?" a voice calls out from under the sculpture. 

"Ahhh, Elliott, it's David…from the elevator," I called out. 

"Hello David from the elevator," he replied without making a move to come out from under the massive sculpture. 

"This studio is incredible!" I blurted out before I caught myself.  "The view is astounding and the space…I've never seen something like this." 

"Thanks…I find it very…inspiring," he replied.  "Listen for a second," he added.  We paused for a moment in silence. 

Finally I asked, "what should I be hearing?" 

Elliott rolled out from under his project on one of those rolling boards that I used to use when working on cars.  His hair was especially disheveled and I could have sworn I saw a few pieces of clay stuck in his curls.  His sunglasses were off and I could finally see his full face, he was beautiful.  When someone uses the term, 'natural beauty' Elliott Eriksen is what they mean.  He was looking straight up and I followed his gaze to the blue sky, then back down again, I saw the same clear blue shining crisply in his eyes.  He had a perfect nose, high cheekbones and thick luscious pink lips, perfect for… 

"You don't hear that?" he asked, interrupting my straying thoughts. 

"No, sorry, I don't hear anything," I replied. 

"Yeah…isn't it beautiful.  It's so quiet up here.  Only the sound of the building…the echo of the space, when I'm working, the slap of my hands on the clay as it guides me…" 

I stared at the strange, yet exquisite man as he continued to gaze upwards, a content and placid look on his face.  After a few seconds he closed his eyes and a sweet smile spread across his face and I felt like I was interrupting a private moment. 

He sat up abruptly and turned towards the sculpture, dipping his hands in a bucket of water and running them over the glistening medium.  Had he forgotten I was here?  I was no longer used to being ignored, but aside from the discomfort of not knowing what I should do, in some ways, it was rather refreshing. 

"So, I found your cellphone in the elevator, it must have fallen out of your pocket," I finally announced. 

"Yeah, that seems to happen a lot, my little brother wants to put a string on it and tie it to my belt loop," he chuckled.   

I started to walk over to hand it to him, but thought better of it as I looked at his hands discolored and wet with clay.  "Do you want me to leave it somewhere?" 

"Yeah, you see the desk over in the far corner?  That's Blake's desk, you can leave it there." 

"Does Blake work for you?" 

"Uh huh, he's my assistant.  Part time while he goes to school.  He had to run off to his afternoon class, but he'll be back later." 

"Oh, the elevator guy said to tell you that he'll be finished in a little while, it looked like he had to replace a control panel."  I don’t know why I felt so awkward talking to this guy, I mean, he wasn't terribly imposing; if I saw him on the street I might think he was a homeless person to be honest. 

I continued to watch him with interest as he worked his hands over the broad expanse of clay.  He was almost as tall as me and his physique exuded strength.  He wasn't bulky, but sinewy; broad shoulders that flexed as he molded and shaped his work.  A narrow waist, very sexy butt…wait, what?  I was staring at his butt like a hungry predator.  I quickly looked up at his wild waves and curls.  Not only was there bits of clay, but it seemed to be cut or chopped haphazardly with no sense of style. 

"What's up with your hair?" I blurted out, surprising myself, feeling like I just came down with a bad case of Tourettes. 

"What do you mean?" he replied, his back turned to me as he continued to work the clay.  His strong hands firmly pushing the wet material around the curves of the shape he was making. 

"I don't know, it looks like you cut it yourself," I chuckled. 

"I do." 

"What?? You cut your own hair?" I gasped, my voice raising an octave much to my embarrassment.  I quickly cleared my throat and made a few manly sounds to counteract my little outburst. 

"Why not, it's easy," he laughed, "when it gets in my way and I don't have an elastic, I just cut it out of my way.  I don't want it getting stuck in my clay or getting caught in one of my tools." 

"That's bizarre," I muttered as I looked anywhere but at the oddly enticing man. How could I even think these things about him, he was so different than anyone I was used to. 

"Who cuts your hair?" he suddenly asked me, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

"Federico over on 14th Street." 

"What do you pay for a haircut?" he asked casually. 

"Umm…about two-fifty, three hundred with a tip," I replied. 

"You're kidding me right?"  he snorted as his hands stopped moving.  He let out another laugh and his body turned slightly toward me, "I'll do it for a cup coffee and a maple scone."  I looked up at him, he was looking in my direction, but not directly at me.  His lips went into a huge grin which lit up his face and I realized even with his dishevelled hair, a glob of clay on his cheek and his crappy clothes, he was indeed the most beautiful person I had ever seen, putting any of the models I worked with to shame. 

I continued watching Elliott and he had turned back to his sculpture.  His fingers brushed along the clay lightly and his lips were parted making a slight hissing sound as if he were mesmerized by the material.  He seemed to stare at it with such intensity that I almost wished I was the sculpture. Like he was enraptured by it, and the tactile activity was pure ecstasy.  I couldn't take my eyes off his fingers as they caused small swirling lines in the wet, glistening material and then his whole hand cupped part of it and I heard what sounded like a barely audible groan come from his mouth.  It was definingly erotic and I felt my mouth open slightly and my breathing increase. 

All of a sudden he just stopped again.  "I was only kidding…I couldn't do it for anything less than 150.  I mean…rent here is atrocious!"  He then started laughing as if he had made the funniest joke ever and I stood there in utter confusion. 

"Rent?  I thought you owned the building?" 

He laughed again, a deep sound reverberating through his chest.  "You got me there.  So I guess it's just coffee then." 

I found myself chuckling in return, as if I finally got the joke, and I suddenly wanted to have that cup of coffee with him.  He was intriguing and I felt like I really wanted to learn more about him.  He was different than the superficial models or fashion designers I usually dealt with and I found it so refreshing, like maybe, I could actually be myself with someone like him. 

"So, underwear model?" He suddenly asked. 

"Sometimes. I have my own line." He grinned and leaned back into his clay. 

"So I could buy David underwear?" 

"Yeah.  You've really never seen any of my photos?" I asked. 

"I guess I don't follow any of the fashion magazines, as you can see, my style is vintage Levis." 

"Well, with looks like yours you could do the catwalk any day, Marcie would love to get her hands on you.  Have you ever considered modelling?" 

"Looks like mine?  David, what are you telling me?" he asked coyly. 

"You look in the mirror, I'm sure you were the guy in High School who had all the girls after you." 

"Nah, not really.  You're the model though, did you have to carry a stick to fight them off?" 

"No, I spent most of my High School career in the awkward stage." 

"No flock of girlfriends?" 

"Nope.  I…ahhh…it's not my thing…I mean, dating.  I've been working pretty much non-stop for the last 3 years, never much time to think about a relationship.  I had to bribe my agent for a break, I had to be in a music video and I get three months off." 

"So now you can find yourself a pretty girl…" 

"Umm, well…I don't…" 

"I'm just kidding you dude, don't mind me," he laughed. 

"Yeah, well…I guess I'd better.." 

"Do you want to come touch it?" he called over. 

"Um, what?!" 

"Come touch the clay, I want you to feel it.  Feel the energy bursting out of.  How smooth it is." 

I took a few tentative steps toward Elliott, "I'm not really dressed…" 

"Don't worry, you won't get your clothes dirty.  I just do because I can't help but get myself all up into it, but just come and run your hand over here, this curve here." 

I walked the last few steps and put my hand on the curve that Elliott had just run his hand over.  I held it there for a moment before his hand came over mine, covering it completely.  He guided my hand down and around and my breath hitched at how sensuous it felt.  Smooth and silky, hard yet malleable, wet and slippery. I let out a deep breath I had been holding. 

"There, you feel it don't you?" 

I nodded my head, unable to speak a word. 

"What does it feel like?" he asked. 

"S-sex," I replied before I could think.  Elliott let out a hearty laugh and his hand squeezed mine.  I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment and I started to pull away. Wanting to run out of there like the insecure boy that was always so close to the surface.  Before I could take my hand back, he grabbed it securely in his own. 

"I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you…well, I mean, I was, but not in the way you think.  Most people would think that, but they wouldn't actually say that.  It was refreshing to have someone actually say it.  It…it made me happy that you were so honest…I didn't mean to embarrass you." Although he fumbled the words, he said them with apparent sincerity. 

"No, it's okay.  I don't know why I said that, it just popped out.  I usually don't say things like that to people I've just met…or well, to anyone really." 

"Well I'm glad, David from the Elevator, that you said it to me.  I feel honoured." 

I shrugged my shoulders and once again stood awkwardly with nothing to say.  Elliott was still holding my hand, and honestly, although I was ready to get out of there, I didn't want him to let go.  It felt really good. 

Finally I guess he realized we were still holding hands so he slowly let go and turned back to the sculpture, kneeling down and placing both hands in the bottom of the oval. 

"I should really be going now," I shrugged.  "I left the phone on the desk." 

"And the coffee you owe me," he chuckled. 

"As long as you don't go near my hair with any scissors, I'll buy you that coffee.  I have to go up to Westchester County for a shoot and to finish the video, but how about Thursday, maybe 11 am at Kaley's around the corner?" 

"That'd be great. If you throw in a scone, I'll even take a shower first.  No clay in my hair, maybe even a clean pair of jeans." 

"A clean shirt and you have yourself a deal!" I retorted, playing along with the game. 

"Wow…that's asking a lot.  But I suppose it's doable." 

"Okay then, it's a date…I mean…it's coffee.  Coffee and a scone…uh…I'm going to go now," I falthered.  How did this man make me lose all my composure.  I took a deep breath and pulled myself together.  With a classic smile I pulled my usual façade back up.  "See you then Elliott."   

He was leaning through the hole in the sculpture, but I was pretty sure I heard a low chuckle.  "I'll see you at Kaley's, David from the Elevator." 

I strutted over to the door and just before I left, he called out, "Thanks David, for bringing back my phone." 

"No problem Elliott, see you Thursday." 

On my way down the stairs I bumped into Jenny.  "David, I was just going to text you...do you want to go see a movie with me tonight.  I really want to see...what's it called again, about the physicist...The Theory of Everything, I hear its really good and its playing at the Capital." 

"Sure, text me the time and I'll come pick you up." 

"Great!  We can grab pizza or something after...ahh...unless you're doing an underwear shoot soon," she giggled, "then its salads all the way." 

"Shaddup Jen!" I scoffed and gave her a shake. 

"You know you luuvvvv me."  Yeah, I did.  Jenny was like the sister I never had.  We loved to joke together and had very similar tastes so I spent a lot of time traipsing around the city with her, especially when she was single as she was currently.