My Asian Lover (Interracial BWAM Romance Book 1) (3 page)

             
In the shower, she let a steady stream of water pulsate against her clit and she moaned, thinking about how sorely she longed to get laid. Despite James being no good for her, she missed the feeling of being wanted. She knew that if she was to be taken seriously as Mike's interior decorator, though, that she would have to maintain an air of professionalism; however, she wanted so badly to find out just what he looked like under his power suit. She washed her face and tried to rehearse what she might want to say to Mike the next day. She thought of her favorite episodes of HGTV's
Design Star
and, even more, the timeless wisdom of one Martha Stewart.

             
She put on her best “white girl voice” and spoke aloud, “Why Michael. I think it would be just lovely if you were to spruce up this kitchen with some festive curtains. Have you considered these flower patterned ones with the peonies on them? It's a
good thing
.”

             
She giggled. The Martha Stewart persona was definitely one that she could not pull off. She supposed that perhaps she would have to just settle for being herself and hope that it would be enough to impress Mike. She decided that she would devote her day to Pinterest and HGTV all in the name of research for her upcoming meeting. She knew nothing about what Mike's home looked like, so all she could do was consider those beautiful green eyes of his and what kind of backdrop he might look good against. 'Mmm he would look good in my bed.' She thought devilishly.

             
She toweled off and returned to her phone, realizing that she hadn't even confirmed their meeting tomorrow before she had hastily taken off for the shower to clean up and get a little dirty with the shower head. She shook her head and thought to herself, 'Praise Jesus for the invention of the shower nozzle or I'd be feeling a hell of a lot lonelier these days.' She felt like a horny little schoolgirl for a fleeting moment, but regained her composure and got to typing.

             
4 will be just fine. See you then.

             
She considered throwing in a winking emoji but decided against it, choosing to begin her role acting as a professional designer right away, lest she waste any more time in her world of fantasy. After all, fantasy, as evidenced by her earlier nightmare, could very well threaten to engulf her entirely. Besides, it was more than enough that she was being given the opportunity to live out one of her more feasible daydreams by helping Mike to decorate his home. Anything beyond that would be far too greedy to consider chasing after.

              After a full day of running around town to do a few small nagging errands and then later allowing herself some time for lounging around the house and watching a near unhealthy amount of television, Taunya was beat and eagerly looking forward to the next day's meeting with Mike. She washed up, put on her penguin pajamas, and looked around her bedroom, wondering how it looked in comparison to what she would see at Mike's the next afternoon. He had mentioned the night at the bar that it was his new master bedroom that he needed help decorating, but that if he liked how she did there might be other work in the rest of the house. She looked at her lavender walls and remembered painting them herself. Even the moulding she had hand-done in a deep purple. She looked at her luxurious bed and cursed it for being the place where her nightly terrors would tend to happen the most. She had secretly always wished for a canopy bed, but, as a woman of thirty, she thought that it was something a little too juvenile for the sophisticated, adult palette that she thought she was supposed to have by then. That said, her bed was beautiful. It was a sprawling California King with silky white sheets and a large beige comforter. Pillows of all sizes and shapes dotted the head of the bed, but she always found herself sleeping on an older jumbo-sized pillow in the mix. That pillow reminded her of the nights she would spend at her grandmother's house as a young girl when her grandmother was still alive. She always seemed to have the most restful sleep there. She could never even remember if she had ever had a nightmare while staying at her Gran's, but she was pretty sure that there was something about the combination of the smell of fresh pastries and peppermint that seemed to perpetually permeate the entirety of her Grandma's house that soothed her and put her at ease to fall fast asleep. She missed her grandmother terribly and, though it had been years since her passing, every time Taunya thought about it, the heartbreak was just as fresh as it was the day she died. It was her grandmother who had always encouraged her to go after her dreams and Taunya wondered if she hadn't spent the last ten years disregarding such a sentiment by allowing herself to work at a job that was merely financially satisfactory, but otherwise incredibly draining and disappointing.

             
She lay in bed, considering the crossroads at which she stood. One way was something she could be sure of. She could always count on Systyx to be there for her, supplying her with endless work and endless boredom. The other opportunity that stood before her was something that she might fail entirely at and she was scared. She had no idea about interior design beyond knowing what she liked, but the passion was definitely there. It was simply a matter of giving in to such a passion and taking what was definitely not a calculated risk by any means. Or she could always slave away in the Human Resources department, looking at the drab walls, allowing them to suffocate her day in and day out. She fell asleep, still wondering about the untold opportunities that the next day would hold and hoped that she had the courage to take on anything that could come her way.

             
The day's first hint of sunlight came pouring through the kitchen window. A soft breeze blew through the air ,causing the sheer curtains to sway delicately. Taunya sat on a folding chair at an old card table, a shadow-laden figure with its back to her stood at the counter.

             
“Nana?” she called out.

             
“Yes, child. I'm almost done rolling the dough for the cookies. Just you hold your horses.” answered the figure, its back still turned.

             
Taunya smiled. Her Nana made the best sugar cookies. She would use an old milk cup to cut out the circles and then dust them with a sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar – always heavy on the cinnamon. She surveyed her surroundings to find that she was in the kitchen of her grandmother's old apartment. The heavenly scent of sugary snacks filled the air, and she could feel the warmth from the nearby oven set to 350º.

             
“Nana, can I ask you something?” Taunya said. “What am I doing here?”

             
The figure let out a hearty laugh, its shoulders heaving with amusement.

             
“Child, I told you. I'm making you cookies!” the figure answered.

             
Taunya was not entirely satisfied with this answer, though. She looked down to find herself still in her penguin pajamas and she was thankful for the heat coming from the oven.

             
“Nana, I've  got a problem.” Taunya began.

             
“Ain't no problem I can't fix with some treats for my sweet.” the figure sing-songed.

             
Taunya sighed. She looked at the walls of the kitchen, which were painted a light yellow. The countertops were covered in tin foil and there were heaps of flour all over the place. An ancient gray stand mixer sat in the corner, with dough dripping from it's spatula attachment. Taunya thought back to being a little girl in her grandmother's kitchen and how her grandmother would sit her on the counter and let her help cut out the cookies. Somehow, little Taunya's had always managed to come out lopsided, but her Nana's were forever perfect.

             
“Nana, can I help you?” she asked.

             
“Now you know you're too big for that, angel.” the shadowy figure replied. It had still not yet turned around. Taunya looked down at the previously empty table to find a stack of I-9 forms in front of her. Work? Again? The figure turned around to reveal a ghastly and decrepit complexion.             

             
The figure boomed aloud in a warped voice, “I expect you to have those processed and in their proper files by the end of the business day or you can kiss your job goodbye.”

             
Taunya's heart was racing as she scanned the forms. She thought quickly. She opened the oven to find a tray of burnt cookies and threw the growing multitude of papers that were spilling out of her arms into the oven. It erupted in a huge flame and she coughed from the smoke that was now engulfing her vision. There was a hole burnt into the right sleeve of her pajamas and her arm hairs had been singed off. She fell backward onto the linoleum floor.

             
Taunya bolted upright in bed and cried.

             
She put her head into her hands and mumbled to herself, “Nana, how could you do this to me?”

             
She sniffled and wiped her nose on her presently in tact pajama sleeve, leaving a drop of snot to rest on top of a stray penguin's nose. She sucked in air and tried to calm herself down, fearing everything around her. She curled up in bed and hugged a pillow to herself. It was no use trying to go back to sleep, but she wanted to close her eyes for at least a little while and try to shake off yet another hideous nightmare. Her attempts were interrupted by the sound of her phone's alarm. It was nine in the morning, the time that she had planned to get up and begin that day. She contemplated throwing the damn phone out the window, but remembered that she was no longer in the land of the dreaming and that doing so would have incredibly negative repercussions. She opened the screen on her phone in a huff to turn off the offending alarm to find a text from Gina inviting her to coffee in a few hours ('Damn.' she thought. 'Guess she still wants to nag me about Friday night.') and a text from Mr.-Friday-Night, Mike. It read:

             
Can't wait to see you this afternoon. Until then.             

             
Taunya felt her heart race. She definitely felt she would need an extra dose of confidence to get her through the day and thought that perhaps meeting Gina might not be such a bad idea after all. She knew she could always rely on Gina to be somewhat of a cheerleader when she needed it. She went to the bathroom to commence with her morning routine. She began with a splash of cold water to her face and looked at herself in the mirror, remembering the ghastly figure of Nana in her dream the night before. She didn't want to grow old before her time and she grinned, thinking about the incredibly liberating – if not all too frightening – feeling of burning those I-9 forms in the oven. How she wished, sometimes, that she could do that in real life. She finished in the bathroom and hopped on her bed, grabbing her phone to text Gina back.

             
I'm in. Starbucks at the corner around 2?

             
She picked up the business card that Mike had handed her on Friday, his address scrawled on the back of it. The front of the business card was rather plain looking but also very clean and neat. She still did not know what he did for a living as his card simply had his name, cell phone and office phone number, under which it read: Stocks and Bonds. Despite being a grown professional in the work force, Taunya still never quite understood what stocks and bonds were. She imagined Mike must hold some sort of position of authority in his working world to have such a simple and no-nonsense type of business card, yet there was an air of mystery about what it read that reminded her all too much of the business card round table scene in
American Psycho.
She shuddered at the thought, deciding that perhaps it was best to let Gina in on her little secret if only to give her more of a sense of safety and security walking into a stranger's unfamiliar home.

             
She received confirmation of their coffee date from Gina and got set on picking out the right outfit for her day: something that would say “professional” without screaming it. One thing was for sure, though. She would be needing a special pair of matched lingerie for the occasion so that she could look and feel her best. She fumbled through her drawer, stopping at the pair of black lace panties from her affair with James. She held them in her hand briefly and smiled to herself. Wrong though it was, James had manage to open her up sexually. She had been a wild woman with him and she longed to find someone with whom she could be that way again.

             
She picked out her best push-up bra and matching panty set, deciding to cover her amplified bosom with a black button down shirt for modesty. She wanted to look good but not to distract from the job that she was there to do. After all, she had made a promise to herself that she would be sure to act like a professional at all times. She bit her lip thinking about Mike's gorgeous smile, but shook the thought out of her head. She pulled on a pair of sheer pantyhose to give her legs an extra smooth look – not that she needed much help when it came to having smooth skin. She picked out a light gray pencil skirt to put on. It had buttons along either side, giving it something of a nautical look. It was tight yet flattering and it accentuated the curve of her ass better than any other garment in her closet. She chose a pair of oxford heels to complete the look and teetered around her room, making sure she could balance in them properly. Heels weren't really her strong suit, but she wanted to be sure to make a lasting impression and she knew those shoes would be just the thing – along with her form-fitting skirt – to do it. She finished off with some subtle jewelry and examined herself in the mirror. Yes, she was an absolute knockout and she knew it too.

             
She spent the next few hours leading up to her meeting with Gina surfing on her laptop and printing out layouts she had created for a manly master bedroom. Because Mike had not gone into much detail about his place, she was working from what she had been able to surmise about him from their meeting. She wanted to make his room say that which he already said to the world. She wanted it to read as strong and powerful, yet also sensual and serene. There was definitely a charming sense of serenity about him. She imagined he was a hard and dedicated worker like herself, but, unlike her, he came off as having a fairly laid back sensibility. She wished she could feel like that. She so hated the perpetual bags under her eyes and her penchant for over-analyzing everything.

             
Taunya checked her phone to see that she was due to meet Gina any minute. She had become so engrossed in her research that she had let the time slip by without even noticing. She rushed to compile her Pinterest print outs and random design notes into a manilla file, grabbed her purse, and ran out the door, nearly forgetting to lock it.

             
Over caramel machiattos, the two ladies caught up about their weekends. Taunya tried her best to avoid work talk, but was also hesitant to let slip what really happened with Mike on Friday night, though she knew it was in her best interest to let her friend know where she was planning on going later that afternoon. At Gina's pestering, however, she finally caved.

             
“C'mon and TELL me. I know you picked up that hottie last night.” Gina insisted.

             
“Fine. I did–but it's not what you think. He wants me to do a...um...job for him.” Taunya protested.

             
This was not enough to satisfy Gina, though.

             
“A
job
you say? I can think of a couple of jobs that he'd probably want you to do for him.” Gina teased.

             
Taunya sighed, thinking that she should have known better than to phrase it in such a way.

             
“He wants me to do some interior design work for him. All professional. No funny business.” she explained. “It's just a side gig.”