Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (9 page)

BOOK: Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series)
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I pulled away from him and walked over to my clutch. I had a missed call from the front desk. I called the number back, and Randy told me that I had a delivery. He said he would send it right up. I went into the new and massive bedroom and applied my lip gloss.

This new condo was even more amazing than the other. This one had two bedrooms and three walk-in closets. I also had two and half baths and two balconies. This color scheme was silver, grays, and royal blue, and I loved it.

There was knocking at the door, and I asked Jyme to get it. After I applied my lip liner and lip gloss, I walked back into the living room. There was an arrangement of a dozen white roses sitting on the coffee table. I looked at Jyme puzzled. And he gave me the same look right back. I walked over to the arrangement and plunked out the card. It read, “Please consider this arrangement as my white flag” and it was signed D’Artagnan.

“These are from my boss,” I explained.

“The drunk guy from last night?” he looked annoyed.

“Yes.” I answered.

Jyme held the elevator door for me as I stepped out.

“Why is he sending you flowers?”

“I guess he felt bad about last night.”

“Are you going to keep them?”

“Jyme, there just flowers.”

“Whatever,” he said with an attitude. I reached for his hand and he ignored me. I put my hand into his and he finally closed his hand around mine. We walked hand in hand towards the front desk; Randy stood and straightened his jacket. “Ms. Hooper.”

“CRICKET!” I growled.

“Cricket.” He smiled at me, and I ginned back.

“If you don’t mind me saying Mr. Samson, Cricket, you’re a vision,” he explained. I felt my cheeks heat up, and I thanked Randy for his compliment. Jyme nodded back at him.

The door attendant held the door for us, and Jyme helped me into the truck. I immediately looked over the back seat to make sure we were alone; we were.

We walked into The New Orleans Creole Restaurant. There was jazz music playing, and everyone looked cheerful and upbeat. We sat immediately and ordered lemon water. I had the Eggplant Lafitte with a side salad, and Jyme ordered the Oyster Bayou with a side of red beans and rice. We both oohed and ahhed through the entire meal. The food was good, and I told him this was my new favorite spot. We ordered a bag of beignets to go. Jyme swore we could eat them at the amphitheater. We made it twenty minutes early; I grabbed the beignet bag, and he went to the back of the truck. He pulled out a cooler, a large piece of plastic, and two blankets. Once we made it down the stairs, he told me to take off my shoes. He pulled his off, and I did the same; we walked onto the grass barefoot. Once we had made it down the small hill, I could see why he packed what he did. Everyone was stretched out on the ground. We passed a few people that spoke to him by name.

Once we got up towards the front, everyone started calling him Lil Samson and nodding at me. He found the spot he wanted and laid the plastic down putting both blankets on top. He helped me down to the ground and then joined me. He opened the cooler, and it was filled with Perrier water, and canned Cokes. A few people walked by, spoke to Jyme, and then stared at me. It made me feel a little uncomfortable and out of place. Jyme told me that they were not used to seeing him with anyone. He said he was a loner, so this was new for them. I felt better after he explained the situation.

The lights came up on the stage, and the strings started. They first played a little whimsical number, then a bolder piece, and then a soothing light piece. A few of the couples stood up and started slow dancing to the music. It was very sweet, and I turned around and around watching them all. Some were seated, as couples were up dancing, snuggling, kissing, or dancing to the music. Jyme kissed the side of my exposed neck, and then he shifted around me. I was now sitting in between his legs and I felt my neck get hot. He wrapped his arms around me, and I laid both of my arms on top of his. The strings played slow pieces for the rest of the concert. Jyme kissed my exposed neck repeatedly. He took his time, and he didn’t rush. He did the tracing of the palm thing again, and I felt like a stupid naive teenager. This man gave me chills, and I couldn’t imagine any other place I would rather be. It had only been three days, but in these short days, I had such strong feeling for him. I turned to kiss him, and it was soft, gentle and sweet.

We gathered our things after the concert, and several people came up to him. I noticed almost everyone in the audience was Native American. I could count the few people that were not on my hand. Then, I remembered all of the string players were Native American as well. The grass was covered with people now, many more than I saw when we first got here. Most of the Native Americans had tattoos and exposed piercings of some sort. It made me a little nervous, and I moved closer to Jyme, wrapping my arms around him. He was talking to a group of people, and he turned to kiss me on my forehead. He pulled me closer to him, and after a few more long minutes, they said their farewells and we departed. I looped my finger into his belt loops on his jeans. The crowd was so thick, and I didn’t want to get separated from him.

When we made it back to the truck, I wrapped up into him and kissed him slowly. Someone cleared their voice behind us, interrupting our passionate moment. There was a beautiful Native American woman with dark hair flowing down her back. She was holding up an obviously drunken, grey-headed Native American man. Beside them, a younger version of the woman and a buzzed cut Caucasian man stood next to her. Jyme sucked in a deep breath, and then he said something to them in a language I didn’t recognize. I watched his mouth, but my ears didn’t understand a word of it. He said a few more words, and then they all looked at me. He turned to me and introduced everyone to me. Brad was the Caucasian man’s name, Patty was the younger woman’s name, Jenimine Julin was the beautiful woman’s name, and Big Samson was the drunken man’s name. I shook everyone’s hand except for the drunken man. I froze after Jyme spoke his name to me.

“This is your family?” I asked.

“Yes.” Then he introduced me to them by my name and nothing more. Jenimine Julin looked me over and then she spoke that language again. She apologized immediately, and then she called me a good luck charm. She kissed Jyme on his check and said, “So you finally found one.”

She turned to me and said, “Call me JJ.” The drunken man mumbled something, and then they all laughed, well everyone except for Jyme and me. They said goodbye and walked away from us. JJ called out to Jyme from a distance. “Bring her to me this weekend.” He nodded and helped me into the truck.

Once we made it out the parking lot, I started. “Your mother and sister are so beautiful,” I stated. He said nothing in response to me. We rode in complete silence back to the condo. He pulled up-front and my heart dropped. I was hoping he would stay the night tonight. I needed him to stay with me tonight. He opened my truck door for me, and I slid out into him. I pressed all of myself onto him, melting into skin. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on my cheek.

“You’re not coming up?” I breathed out.

“No, not tonight.”

I pulled back from him so I could get a better look at his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

“No, not at all, my workweek starts tomorrow. We fish all day Thursday and go to the markets on the weekend,” he explained.

My feelings were now officially hurt. I pulled away from him, and headed towards the door. He caught my arm before I reached the door. “Come here,” he breathed.

“Look, don’t start something you’re not going to finish,” I explained.

I left him with a double meaning and walked into the awaiting opened doors of the building. I crossed my arms and kept my head down as I passed the front desk. When I stepped into the elevator and the doors shut, the tears starting falling. He was supposed to have followed me into the elevator, and he was supposed to be rubbing and tugging at everything while I unlocked the condo door. Then, we should be peeling each other’s clothes off. Then, we should be making some hot passionate love. Instead, I was stepping out the shower pulling my bathrobe on and collapsing on the bed.

The next two days were monstrous. D’Artagnan was acting like a wounded puppy, and I hated it. O was out sick at the office, and the temp kept calling me instead of sending all of my calls to my voicemail. Plus, I hadn’t heard from Jyme in over forty-eight hours.

I drove to Chelle’s on Friday night so I could pack some more of my things. Ayashe was there, and we opened a bottle of wine. Chelle lit a fire since it was a little chilly outside. She served bruschetta and a chocolate cake. We sat on the floor surrounding the coffee table with dinner forks. That cake didn’t have a chance in hell.

Chelle and her current Boo were on the outs. He lied to her about his whereabouts a few days ago. She said a friend of hers snapped pictures of him at the bar with some slut. Ayashe’s ex was tripping with the child support. She said he was determined to give her exactly what the State demanded him. He told her someone had told him that she goes out every night to the clubs on his dime. So he stopped giving her the extra money he used to. Her ex was slick though; he had four different businesses, but he was only claiming one of them to the authorities. She promised him a long time ago that she would never tell and he agreed to always take care of her. He was now going back on his word and she barely had a leg to stand on. Ayashe said she knew if she told on him now, he would just quit his jobs and then she wouldn’t get a dime from him.

Then, I had to fill them in on my drama. They looked me over a couple of times, and then they both asked me if I had called him. I thought about it, and then I realized I hadn’t contacted him at all, not one time in the now fifty-two hours we hadn’t spoken to each other. I excused myself and went into the restroom. I dialed the now-saved number in my phone, and it rang once.

“Cricket?”

“Hi.”

“I’m really sorry about the other night. I should have followed, and we should have…” he drifted off.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s my family; they make me crazy. Can I come see you?” he asked.

“I’m not in Seattle,” I said.

“Where are you? I can come to you.”

“I’m in Olympia for the night.”

“I can come there. I don’t mind the drive,” he pleaded.

“No, it’s kind of late.”

“Meet me somewhere, anywhere.”

“No, not tonight.” I said.

“Are you getting back at me for the other night?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” I assured him.

“Will you come and see me tomorrow at work?”

“Where is work?”

“I’m working in the University District tomorrow, right next to that department store you shopped in,” he explained.

I thought for a minute. He had said that he had business to take care of over there, and he was telling the truth. I thought he was just being facetious. “What time?”

“Come at twelve.”

“Alright, I’ll see tomorrow,” I said.

“I can’t wait to kiss you,” he whispered, and there they were, the tingles.

Ayashe and Chelle tagged along with me the next day. I insisted on them bringing a change of clothes. Being in Jyme’s presence, there was no telling where we would end up. When we got to the market, we grabbed a map from the information booth. The market was extremely crowded, and we barely made it through. We went down one row, then two rows, and then three rows. We went back to the information booth, and the two women inside asked what we were looking for. I told them Jyme’s name because he had never told me the name of his fishing company. Both of women looked at me and started laughing, asking if we had ever been there before.

“Keep walking down this street, and trust me you can’t miss them,” the older woman said.

We walked and walked and then walked some more until we could see a crowd of people at the end of the street. We pushed our way through, and then we could hear music and some sort of chanting. All of a sudden, there was flying fish. Fish were tossed and thrown into the air, and the crowd went berserk. We finally made it to an opening, and then I got the full effect of the show. There were nine men standing before us. Two were out front, and the other seven were behind tables under a big tent. One guy had a wireless microphone across his head, and his voice belted through the large speakers. He threw a fish at the man standing directly across from him and that man threw the fish at the first guy standing next to him behind the tables. All the while, the microphone man chanted, “If we drop it we buy it.”

The first man threw the now clean fish to the second man. The second man then threw the now skin free fish to the third man. The third man sliced the fish right down the middle and threw that fish to the fourth man. The fourth man had a huge hatchet-like knife.

Just then, I got a good look at him, and my heart stopped. Jyme was the fourth man with the big hatchet. He wore a white tank top with khaki carpenter shorts and sneakers. You could see his biceps and all of his arm muscles perfectly. He looked scrumptious. All the men wore the exact same get up, but Jyme looked hella hot.

There was a man standing right next to him, and I saw that I knew him, too. Jyme handed Kanoke the fish, and then Kanoke did something to the fish and threw it to the next man. I knew this man, too. Loon did something else to the fish as he tossed it to the last guy. All of this happened in less than thirty seconds. There was a huge digital clock hanging over the tent above them that said so. The sign over the tent read, Samson and Son. This went on for the next four or five minutes or so. I was in awe at the performance, and I couldn’t keep my eye off Jyme.

BOOK: Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series)
3.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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