Cafe Romance (38 page)

After another round of wet kisses, he turned away from her. "Vanessa!" He bellowed, more forcefully, as she repositioned herself between his legs. "Please don't make this any harder than it has to be," he tried to reason.

Feeling drugged by his clean and manly scent, she appeared to be a woman possessed.

“Pleease Vanessa!” he pleaded, his hands in a defensive posture.

"I promise, I’ll only make it as hard as I need it to be,” she said, as her gaze slid downward, her hands taking liberty where dignified restraint once ruled the day.

“Please, please don’t touch me there,” he murmured weakly.

“Please, don’t make me beg for it," she came back, grinding her body against his. "Forgive me, but God, I need it and I need it baaad!”

Again, she pressed her open lips to his. The light aroma of her perfume helped to lower his fading resistance. For the first time, he felt that this might be one battle he could lose. But he was determined to find a way to avoid succumbing to her advances. Nothing he said or tried seemed to work, so far. It wasn’t a position he usually found himself in.

“I’m so horny! She purred, tugging at his zipper. “Please forgive me, but it's been a while for me."

Again, he attempted to back out of this situation but to no avail.

Like the tentacles of an octopus, her hands were everywhere, fondling him, the harsh uneven rhythm of her breathing sensuous and seductive.  She was not making this easy for him.

"Vanessa, pleaseee! Just think about this for a minute!" he protested, as she left a trail of wet kisses along his muscular neck, her long slender fingers now struggling anxiously to unfasten his shirt buttons.

“I have!” she returned, exposing her breasts and panting like a tigress in heat. The moment her nipples brushed against his warm massive chest she felt them tingle from the contact. “Please, suck my nipples. Please baby. Suck them now!”

With great effort he escaped her clutch for the fourth time, his breathing heavy, his voice shaken. "Vanessa, listen to me. You'll regret this in the morning, believe me."

"Regret this!" Roxanne snapped, glancing down at his crotch, her breathing now heavy and rapid. "Look, I want you to take care of this itch I have...no strings attached. Please Kurt!"

"Listen, if this was under different circumstances, believe me when I say that I would not be putting up such a resistance," he replied. "Vanessa, I’m trying my best to do the right thing by you."

Her spirit dampened by his resolve, she paused, then rose up slowly in disbelief. With eyes narrow and averted, she sat down at the edge of the sofa. Disappointment registered across her face. Frustration continued to flow through her veins.

So this is what rejection feels like
, she thought, having felt the sting of rejection for the first time in a long time. As far as she was concerned there was no man on earth she could not seduced, not even the Pontiff could escape her charming ways. She was as good a temptress as they make them. But Kurt was different than any other man she had ever met.

"Please do not take it personally," he quipped.

"Look, I want to apologize," she said tersely, feeling defeated. "I didn’t know about your other love interest. She must be a very special woman. I don’t know what's gotten into me. But I've been feeling kind of vulnerable lately. Right now I feel like a damn fool."

Moving over to her Kurt took her hands into his, saying, softly and tenderly, "Vanessa, I am flattered. I really am. Believe me, you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all. And you're definitely no one's fool. It's just that my path crossed with another’s long before I crossed paths with you. So, forget this ever happened. Hey, are we still friends?"

A trace of a smile soon replaced the sadness on her face. "God! You're so sweet, Kurt.  You have such an uncanny ability to communicate your thoughts. Hell, you've just flat out turned down my advances, yet, in a way I don't feel at all rejected. That's why I am so crazy about you."

"Thank you," he smiled, zipping up his trouser and fixing his shirt. "Look, I have to leave now. But I promise to stay in touch from time to time, okay?"

"I know you will, Kurt," she beamed. “By the way, whoever she is, she’s a very lucky woman.”

“No, I’m the lucky one,” he said, easing into a smile. With that he planted a kiss on her cheek, rose to his feet, and departed.

Though he never admitted it to Vanessa, he had had a fantasy about her before, though she showed up in his dreams as Roxanne. Another thing he did not tell her was that she was only one wet kiss away from getting what she was after. He had felt that close to losing control.

The following morning he dressed and headed out to work with the events of the previous night fresh on his mind. By midday the skies had faded to storm gray. The workload inside was unusually light. Many clients had elected to stay home to prepare for an approaching category five hurricane, though it was reported to be sixteen hours away from landfall. For lunch, he went the fast food route. It was a decision he regretted later. The greasy fast food meal left his stomach unsettled. A stop at a local convenient store and some Tums brought relief, along with bottled water.

Returning to the office, he found Ms. Maria Lopez, his former client, waiting for him in the lobby area. Laying the magazine down, she rose up and greeted him. When they arrived in his office, she told him that she had received her GED. She also told him that she was employed at Tamara’s Lingerie Shoppe at the mall and that she had been thinking about him and wanted to know if he would mind dropping by to have lunch with her sometime. “Listen, I just want to treat you to lunch to show you my appreciation for the encouragement you gave me in pursuing my goals and for believing in me,” she professed. “I also received the $80,000 settlement stemming from my son’s father’s death. And guess what?” she asked, her tone suddenly buoyant. “I’m about to open my own fashion store within a month at a shop I’ve leased not far from the mall.”

She told him she had taken her fashion designs to several well-known seamstresses around town, as he had suggested, who thought she had a unique idea. Of those seamstresses, three were immediately commissioned to make the initial line of clothing.

Opening a manila envelope she pulled out several sketches and handed them over to Kurt for his inspection. He scanned the gowns and especially the skimpily clad designs with great surprise and interest. “Maria, these are great!” He smiled, adding, “I am really impressed. You are definitely talented.  I mean that. By the way, what will you call your line of fashion?”

With a toothy smile, she replied, “I’m calling my business Hoo-Chi Fashions and my line of clothing, Urban Fashion Wear.  I am going to be big, baby.  Big!”

Kurt’s smile widened in approval.

Bubbling with excitement, she continued. “There will be Hoo-Chi evening wear, Hoo-Chi beach wear, Hoo-Chi bridal wear, Hoo-Chi athletic wear, Hoo-Chi summer wear, Hoo-Chi office wear, that’s something the big bosses should like, Hoo-Chi Mama wear, and Hoo-Chi lingerie/nighttime wear. Like it or not, I’m bringing back Hoo-chi mania. What do you think?”

“I’m impressed,” Kurt resounded. “Just let me know when you plan on expanding. I want to make sure that I buy stock in your company.”

Lowering her gaze in a demure gesture, she smiled.  “By all means, I will let you know.”

As before, on previous visits to his office, Maria had made sure that she was well dressed, and enticingly so, always mindful to show ample cleavage, especially since her bountiful globes have always been two of her finer assets. She was not at all shy about exploiting them to her advantage. She still had eyes for Kurt. It was only right that she give him a reason to have eyes for her.

Kurt gave the matter some thought but saw no reason why they could not meet for lunch and he told her so. He asked her to get back with him to see what they could arrange, in the near future. His positive response about her business plans, along with the lunch date, made her day, and she told him so. As he escorted her down a long florescent-lit corridor and into the lobby, the two briefly mentioned the impending hurricane and the buzz and excitement it had brought to the area. Not to worry, they assured one another. It would all blow over by the morning.

 
K
urt settled in at home and listened to the continuing weather updates on his scanner on the fast approaching hurricane, which was named Charlotte. The jobs service center, along with many other government agencies and local businesses had released their employees three hours early in anticipation of Charlotte, which was scheduled to hit the bay area in the wee hours of the morning. 

His preparation involved picking up extra food, extra batteries, and extra bottles of water, a large flashlight and tape for the house and car windows. He had also released his house staff early too. It was better for them to get home like everyone else in the city to prep for the storm, he reasoned. In a severe storm time and preparation was of essence. 

Kurt glanced over at the clock then leaned back into his reclining chair. It was not quite three o'clock in the afternoon but the sky was already dark and overcast. The winds grew gusty and audible to an extent, gaining strength with each passing hour. Suddenly Roxanne appeared on his mind. It had been days since he last checked in on her.

He called her, and satisfied that she was prepared for the storm, he headed into the kitchen to clean up. There was no telling if he would have running water in the aftermath of the storm so he filled both bathtubs with water. He had plenty of bottled water on hand, too.

Satisfied that he was as prepared for the approaching storm as he could be, he retired to his bedroom upstairs. With little else to do, he turned on the television and tuned in the weather channel.

Kicking off his shoes, he propped himself across the wide bed, his eyes unfocused, his mind deep in thought. Vanessa suddenly leaped into his thoughts, the events of their last meeting still fresh on his mind. If she had a middle name it was probably
Temptation,
perhaps
Passion
, he reasoned. The woman was all that and more. Then, just as suddenly, he began to think about another, one more dear to his heart. He was just about to doze off when the phone rang abruptly. The voice belonged to Yvette.

"How are you?" she asked, her voice tender, almost a velvet murmur.

"I'm fine, Yvette," he replied, enthusiastically.

"What are you doing?"

"Just finished preparing for hurricane Charlotte. What about you?"

"That's the reason why I'm calling you," she answered with a touch of urgency in her voice.

"What's up?" he uttered, rising up to a sitting position on the bed.

"I was sitting here wondering if you wouldn't mind having dinner with me this evening. I've wanted to cook something special for you for the longest time now. You know, show you some real southern gourmet cooking. I know I've been too tired or too busy in the past, and I apologize for that, but I’m free this evening and I’ve prepared something I just know you will like," she managed to say, and all in one breath.

"You're doing all of this for me? Why? Or is it a surprise?" he chuckled lightly into the phone.

"It's a surprise," she teased.

"Very well, then," he said, then with a touch of concern, "So is everything alright?  I mean, it's not every day I get an invitation from you to have dinner at your place."

"Well, with this hurricane heading our way, I just didn't want to be alone tonight. Will you come over, please?"

After a brief pause Kurt said lightly, "Sure, that's what friends are for?"

"I imagine so," she returned, her relief obvious in her tone.

"I'm on my way," he said briskly. "Is there anything you would like for me to pick up for you while I’m at the store?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I could use a bottle of red wine," she remarked. "That is, if you plan on stopping. The recipe I'm cooking requires red wine. Good luck finding a store that’s stocked at this time."

            "I know what you mean," he added thoughtfully. "When I was at the marketplace earlier this afternoon, there must have been at least three hundred other people there buying up all of the food, water, and hardware supplies."

"I can imagine," she murmured softly. "Let’s hope wine wasn’t a priority for them. Well, drive safely dear.  I'll see you when you get here. You do remember how to get here, right?"

"I remember," he was proud to have said. If he did not remember any other route, he remembered how to get to her place.

Talk about being on top of the world. No sooner had he hung up the phone Kurt smiled, then let out a joyful outburst. Just the thought of being with her in such an intimate setting was enough to make his blood boil. And it was not lost on him that she referred to him as
dear
.  The evening definitely had its possibilities.

Yvette had just finished cooking the bulk of the main course and was in the process of gathering her ingredients for the eggplant sauté with goat cheese and basil, which would be served atop buttered spinach fettuccine, when she spied Kurt as he drove onto the carport, just below her kitchen window.

She smiled to herself, then quickly washed and dried her hands off. Hopefully the red wine, the only ingredient she was missing for this dish, was in the bag he was carrying in his hand. She hurriedly descended the flight of stairs to let him in.

“Hello Mr. Douglass!” she greeted him with a huge smile. 

"Hello, Yvette!" he smiled back, his face brightening at the sight of her. "Here’s the bottle of red wine you requested, along with some treats for us," he added. 

Kissing him on the cheek she led him up the stairs and into the kitchen area. Walking over to the ceramic-tiled countertop he took out the bottle of wine, a large bag of chips, and a plastic container of French onion dip. He also pulled out a container of guacamole dip, just in case she did not care for onion dip. "Here you are, Yvette," he smiled, handing her the items.

"How was the ride over?" she asked, her smile warm and radiant.