Alfonzo (23 page)

She touched the assortment of men’s shirts, Gucci, Armani, True
R
eligion, Hugo Boss, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren
, Yves Saint Laurent
and countless others. Her broad smile was a result of indecision. She couldn’t choose among the
quality
items
to cover her nakedness. They
were
all
brand
spanking
new
o
n shiny wood
en
hangers
w
ith
an
aroma of cedar.

Oh what the heck!
She reached inside and removed
a
light blue
shirt
which happened to be a Burberry Prorsum button down
.
When she put it on
,
it hung loosely
on her like a dress
and she laughed. This was like playing dress
-
up with her
parents
clothes. The memory quieted her joy.

Alfonzo entered the room just as she wiped her nose with the sleeve of his shirt, “
Hey, what happened?”

She waved at him trying to get herself together. Her voice trembled, “I just started thinking about my father and got emotional, no biggie.”

He knew how it felt trying to be tough
, w
anting to let go but afraid of being labeled weak. He mastered the art of
emotional
suppression
and
at times wondered if he w
as
born with a cold heart. Then she came along at a tragic juncture in his life and his heart beg
an
to melt. He was fighting
the feeling
but losing
an emotional
battle.

Alfonzo
sat the plate of food and drink on the side to
comfort her
. S
oon
,
a
liquid
warmth
from her
tears
seeped through his shirt
. He said nothing
as she cried out the sadness, pain
,
hate, helplessness and frustration. H
e let
the tears r
un a river across his heart.
After a time she sniffled, wiped her face and grinned in embarrassment, “I’m not this emotional. I just get these moments when it all hits me.”

“Selange if you didn’t cry I’d think something was wrong with you.” He looked at her in the oversize shirt and asked, “Hungry?”

“Tha
nk you I’m really starved.”

He guided her toward the plate of food and she sat down on the edge of the bed scooting forward to eat.
He
reclined
and watched.
He liked the way her mouth creased as she
chewed
and the dimples forming on her cheeks. He liked the w
ay she smelled and the rich quality of her long hair. He liked everything about her and
felt
conflicted whether to walk away
or stay
.
Detective Winoski
advised
he
stopped hanging around
her,
it was
dangerous
, especially if someone was out to kill him. She was right but it was hard
to do
. He thought about his lifestyle,
geez, he’d corrupt her. Man –everything
about him was wrong for her. He reviewed her lists of attributes
. She was
smart, virtuous, caring, cultured, beautiful, classy and innocent. Yes, extremely innocent.
He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes listening to her eat and the sound of footsteps overhead
. She suddenly jumped on the bed
and
straddl
ed
him
. His
eyes flew open, “Going to sleep again?”

“No, relaxing.”

“I had a really good time. Thanks Alfonzo.”

She was
lying
the length of hi
s body,
staring in his face. Her lips hovered above, soft and inviting.
“Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome.”

He
became
aroused and
sought
distract
ion through conversation
, “How is it working as a teacher, aren’t a group of
rugrats
stressful on a daily basis?”

Animatedly, she described the kids in her class and how great it was to work with them.
He listened attentively.
Impressed by her dedication and passion.

She
tapped his chest,
“Your turn.”

From a supine position he could see the perfect arch of her neck and a small beauty mark right below her chin. He noticed the slight pucker of her lips caused a dimple to appear
just below the corner of her mouth. A sexy mouth he wanted to kiss, instead he
replied casually, “Wh
at do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

She
waited
patiently and h
e decided to share.
“I have a
Master’s
in Business from Columbia University.”

H
er head
jerked
, “Serious?”

He smirked. Many people weren’t aware of this
. He
didn’t
have
an
intimate connection
or desire
to share
such
personal details
with them
. “I have
a
Broker’s License and own a
real estate d
evelopment
c
ompany.”

“A Latino
Rockefeller,
huh?”

“ Not
really,” he said modestly.

“What type of books do you read?” She asked.

“Umm…” He thought a minute, “Greek Mythology…and anything about
finance
.”

Selange found this revelation antithetical to
his
outward appearance.

“Who’s your favorite Greek character?” She probed.

A smirk, she was testing him.
He rubbed his chin then replied,
“ Odysseus
,
y‘know
from
Homer‘s
,
Odyssey?”

She liked
it,
too, “Yes,
why ?”

“
I like
he finds creative solutions to get
his ass
out of trouble. I
t’s analogous to
my
life
in a way. S
atisfied?”

“
Yeah, I like that too
.
” She smiled to lighten the mood then asked, “Have you
ever been in love
. I mean deep passionate love
?”

She listened intently, waiting
,
but he
preferred discussing Homer,
this
topic opened old wounds. Reluctan
tly he shared, “
Not really, I did have a bad
crush
once.”

“
W
hat happened?”

“I caught her
kissing a guy in a club and
finito
it was over.
”

“Whoa, that’s messed-up, how long were you seeing her?”

“
Seven months too long.”

Selange became pensive
and
wondered if he was over his ex. She didn’t want to be the
rebound chick, the one with the leftovers.

He sensed her unease and changed the subject, “What about you
bonita
, h
ow many h
e
arts
have you broken?”

Embarrassed she said, “I
haven’t had any
serious
relationships, I was preoccupied with school
.
Dating wasn’t a high priority.
”

He smiled, beautiful and motivated. He liked that!

“I’m glad school is
over then
,” he said.

She laughed, “I‘m considering pursuing
my
Master‘s.”

“
You should do it.” He was enjoying the intimate conversation.
Talking to her was easy. “What else do you want to do?”

“I
haven’t thought p
ast that
point
.
”

He nodded, “Tell me something quirky about you.”

She wiggled making herself comfortable and his mouth pursed tightly. She shouldn’t keep doing that. It was making him horny.

“
Didn’t I already tell you
I watch cartoons…
that’s seriously quirky,
” she giggled
,
“I love the
artwork on a lot of the Japanese ones
, t
heir artwork is crazy
.”

Her smile was infectious, “My little cousins
think they’re
pretty cool
, too
. What about literature, what do you like?”

“Um…let me see,” She mimicked, “
Poetry,
Stephen Crane
’s one of my
favorites
,
”
she began to recite
one aloud
;

“
A man saw a ball of gold in the sky;

He climbed for it,

And eventually he achieved it—

It was clay.

Now this is the strange part:

When the man went down to the earth

And looked again,

Lo, there was the ball of gold.

Now this is the strange part…”

Alfonzo
completed the final verse: “It was a ball of gold.

Ay, by the heavens, it was a ball of gold.”

Selange
stared
in awe, “No guy I
’ve met
heard of Crane.”

“
Well I have,”
he said
,
with a very
serious
expression
.

She shift her body
again
,
“ Obviously
.”

“Keep doing that and I won’t be able to control myself.”

“Really?”
She said playfully and
gyrated
her hips.

“
Ahhh
,” he groaned.

She kissed his lips and boldly explored his mouth with her tongue.

Alfonzo responded eagerly then detached himself.
“Selange I might not restrain
myself this
time,
be warned.
”

“And?”

He sat up holding her by the waist, “
And
don’t
start a fire you can’t extinguish,
muje
r
.
”
His instincts screamed to get up and take her home; cease and desist before someone got hurt emotionally but his body didn’t follow these
com
mands. He tried to break the emotional hold, “Why me…
por
qué
me
mujer
?”

“What?”

“You were a virgin.
Why me?”

Long lashes blinked in surprise, “Was it that obvious?”

“Um-hum.
Answer the question.”

Her arms encircled his neck. He didn’t have an ounce of fat, only pure muscle.
Her voice was demure
almost wistful in tone
,
“
I…
”

His eyebrows drew together, “
W
hat?”

Selange’s eyes did not waver. He deserved the truth, albeit
the corny protestations.
“
I
trust you.”

He frowned. To trust him showed erroneous judgment.

For Selange trusting anyone was
an emotional risk
.
Yet, Alfonzo compelled her to take a
chance…to make
the
investment even if it meant getting hurt.