My Number One: Kasha & Knox (19 page)

Monday morning, as an extension of her lonely life, she traveled to work in what she saw as a boring city. Jezebel was running close to her usual early arrival time of 7:30, although everyone else didn’t usually arrive until 8:00. In her haste she took to the pavement as if walking a runway that was carved out to Grace Insurance.

She silently repeated her mantra: I am Jezebel Jones, all woman. She had to remind herself of her importance because, with the exception of an impressive position and remarkable home, she felt useless. Even her appearance caused doubt. Her naturally silky cinnamon tresses were pulled into a bun at the top of her head. She avoided the pastimes of lipstick, choosing instead fuchsia lipgloss and a light brown liner. Makeup was avoided at all costs, since she hoped to maintain natural features. This was one woman that turned heads wherever she went. The problem was that Jezebel was either hellbent on finding fault in those that dare feast on a beautiful woman or doubting that she was worthy.

Today however, a stranger caught her attention as he was gulping her down. She approached a set of buildings, and he stepped out of a brownstone storefront office, reaching Jezebel’s glide in two easy steps. Maintaining the speed, she tilted her head to acknowledge his intrusion.

His tongue brushed across slender pink lips. He smiled.

“I love your walk,” the man offered.

She blinked, considering her next move or remark. Any other time she could have pressed forward. Not now. He was there, or rather right here.

Jezebel stood about 5’3”. He reached just under 6”, maybe 5’11”, and was slender with a slight build. There wasn’t much of a bulge under his blue button down.

“Not going to respond?” Her companion eased over to her right.

Jezebel nodded up, looking into stormy gray pupils.

“Really, beautiful?” He had a pleasant tenor that carried a friendly rhythm.

She halted and twisted her left leg to him. He stopped slightly ahead but paced backwards.

“You’re keeping me from work, all for a pickup line?”

“No way . . .” He fumbled the words. “Can I have your name . . . please?”

“What’s yours?” She fought with all of her might, not wanting to pay attention to the illumination that had settled above his head. The very light that brushed against his warm beige skin was sending subliminal messages, trying to convince her that they were the only people occupying the earth. Jezebel had to swallow hard to stop a gasp.

He stepped closer into her space. “You badly want to smile—I see it in your eyes.”

This man didn’t know how badly Jezebel was fighting the battle. Then she considered how much worse she must have looked for her efforts. And so, she did. Not just a hint of a smile. She allowed her face to shine for this man that she didn’t know, just because he came at her in a proper way. And because his aura enticed her.

“My name’s Aidan Broder,” he said, matching the span on her lips.

“I’m Jezebel.” She drew out the words, anticipating a slick type of remark, which was customary when introducing her name. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem shaken.

“Do you have a last name, Jezebel?”

Why does he need a last name? Why isn’t Jezebel good enough? Not that his request was unreasonable, but she was having a difficult time moving past a simple meeting with a member of the opposite sex. She nibbled on her upper lip.

“I’d like to know more about you, Jezebel, more than just your first name. More than even your last name—much more.”

A drop of moisture trickled from her back. She could feel it racing down until her blouse soaked it up. The likelihood of her melting into his arms and clinging for dear life increased by the second. Her mind went blank as she searched for common sense. When it appeared, she was reminded that she was a fool for no one. But still she couldn’t think of a sassy comeback. Couldn’t continue looking around at the buildings or locals because Aidan Broder was commanding attention. There was no other option than to approach the distraction head on. And when she did, their eyes locked in an out of body waltz.

Monday morning?

Work?

Lateness?

For the first time in Jezebel’s life, she lost focus on her obligations. Aidan was staring into her soul—not at the top of her breasts, nor molesting her body with beady eyes. No, his gaze was fully directed at Jezebel. These two appeared to be in deep, thoughtful conversation, relying on a new form of visual directions. In fact, Jezebel was mesmerized as never before. The sparkle from his irises revealed the same of him.

“Do you have plans for lunch, Jezebel?”

“I typically don’t take a lunch break.”

“You don’t eat?”

“I eat in my office and work.”

“Can you join me today?”

Jezebel pondered about using this as an opportunity to play it cool and turn away from his ensnaring stare. He gently caressed the back of her hand, gliding up her wrist and down to the fingertips. She felt vulnerable, but in a good way. Aidan was attentive, and although Jezebel was nervous, he made her want to give in to his request.

“Yes,” Jezebel croaked. She cleared her throat. “I guess so.”

Aidan’s smile widened.

“Is it okay to meet here at noon?”

“Of course,” Jezebel rushed out before biting on her lip again. She wasn’t desperate in any way, just curious and wanting to ride the cloud.

“See you soon, beautiful.”

She brazenly replied, “Later, handsome.” She walked off, boldly swaying and hoping to further entice with her steps. Knowing that he was most likely swooning at the way she glided her waist, Jezebel glanced over her shoulder. There he was, hands in pockets. And all Jezebel could think was, Aidan, Aidan, Aidan . . .

When Jezebel reached her work building the clock showed several minutes short of 8:00. The office was already buzzing. She whisked past the chatter and settled into her office, closing the door behind her. The workspace was no bigger than ten feet long in either direction, but comfy enough to get lost in. A faux wooden desk rested against the left-side wall. To make it more personable, the room boasted a bay-sized window. Jezebel didn’t typically make much of a fuss of it, especially since the thin blinds remained low. Yet today, she reached for them. Inhaling the memory of the morning’s unique journey and allowing the sun to prickle her pupils, Jezebel never felt so calm and hopeful. I wonder why?

When Jezebel stepped outside at two minutes past noon, she could already see Aidan waiting at their spot. She wanted to rush but was afraid, not wanting to trip over a crack in the sidewalk. It wasn’t that the pavement was too bad, she just felt the nerves already eating away inside.

Soon enough, Jezebel was standing about two footsteps from him.

“Hello beautiful!”

“Hello handsome!”

“What would you like to eat?” Aidan asked. He expanded, flexing his arms and revealing ripples that weren’t noticeable earlier.

As she began to mull over the question, his left hand reached down to caress the back of her hands. Under normal circumstances, she would have handed down the contract with stipulations. Even given him a list of dos and don’ts. Told him that she’d rather not be touched, much less by a strange man that she’d only known for a hot minute. Would have scolded him about public displays of affection, especially right up the street from work. But she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. Why?

“Rough day?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Aidan. Getting lost in my madness. What were you saying?” She couldn’t tell him about all of that crap running through her head for fear he might run.

“What do you feel like eating, Jezebel?” His fingers once again caressed their way down to the length of her own. Before she knew it, her hand was in his palm.

Food?

Hungry?

Screw that!

Not now.

Jezebel wasn’t willing to make a fool out of herself during lunch. She worried about tripping or spilling something over her blouse. Food . . . no way.

“I’m not hungry. Do you mind if we just took a walk?”

“If that’s what you want.” He stopped. Looking down at her, the way he’d done earlier that day, caused a soothing storm to overtake her body. Jezebel tried to withstand the pull, but it was too strong. It didn’t help that he still had hold of her hand.

“You’re making me uncomfortable, Aidan.” She wanted to break the connection, but realized that he was the one holding tighter. He eased slightly, wrapping his fingers around the opposite way.

“How’s that?”

“I’m not used to people being in my space. Yet here we are walking, holding hands . . .”

The pair had walked about a block up from where they first met that morning. Jezebel’s mind still focused on the energy rushing from their touch. She waited to feel the ease in tension of his grip. When that didn’t happen she squeezed and released, hoping it would prompt him. It didn’t. Her attempt at a rejection was irrelevant.

“Are you always so tense, Jezebel?” Aidan teased.

“Tense? Because I asked you about moving into my space?” She could only think about protecting, denying and defending herself. It was so easy to become offended, although she knew he was teasing. Jezebel directed her fingers to prepare for the tension that was bound to die once Aidan let go. She waited . . . waited . . . nothing happened. Aidan only smiled, essentially forcing her to relax and give in all over again.

“That’s better,” he chimed.

Jezebel bit down on her bottom lip, hoping that he wouldn’t see how enticed she’d become. No one was capable of controlling her. No one but Aidan. As a consequence, she trailed somewhat behind him, following his lead as they headed for Brandywine Park.

The rush of the river dashing against the rocks was peaceful. A light breeze serenaded the pair on their outing. Although cars raced across two above-head roadways, their engines were easily tuned out. The time was early spring and love was growing all around. Many other downtowners had also decided to venture out for a midday walk or enjoy lunch by the river.

“So is it safe to say that you aren’t involved with anyone?” Aidan’s question cut into Jezebel’s admiration of the rapids.

This time she was ready to respond, and hadn’t drifted too deep in thought.

“I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time.”

“You’ve dated though, right?”

“If that’s what you’d call it. I’ve gone out. Tried to make connections out of dead wires. Nothing took life.”

“Why do you think that is?” Aidan led Jezebel to a bench that faced the waters. His dark cinnamon hair blew just enough to garner her attention. As earlier, he carried a special light, drawing the two of them together. She yearned to run her fingers along his face and reach up to gather a fistful of locks.

It had been a long time since Jezebel felt comfortable and relaxed in the presence of the opposite sex, with the exception of Jason. Aidan was stimulating and tantalizing. And she didn’t need to give herself a pep talk to put up with him. Without a second thought, she started to open up.

“Like any other human being, I’d like to belong to someone. Just not anyone.” She spat out the final term, it was bitter to even consider settling at this stage of her life.

“Okay . . .” Aidan rubbed up and down the back of her hand, trailing round to the center of her palms.

“But I can’t take deception, cheating, mean men—” Jezebel shifted. Her explanation was labored as she revealed her vulnerabilities.

“You’ve experienced all of that in every relationship?”

“It’s not that, but the minute I see the potential for those things, I run.”

“So you’re operating out of fear?”

“More like common sense.”

“But have you taken the time to validate your suspicions or confirm that what you believe to be red flags are actually warnings?”

He’d taken it too far. She felt like she was on an episode of Dr. Phil. For the first time since he took hold of her palm on King Street, she finally let go. Not only was her hand sweaty, but reasoning fled and with it her words.

He didn’t try to force her hand back into his, instead only stared. His smile was seductive; in fact, he appeared calm. Just then, a purple flower drifted into her hair. At a loss for all forms of interaction, she dared not remove it. She only hoped to be blown away, far up the stream, to a place where a man’s superpowers were of little effect. If only she was that lucky. Instead, the day was shaping up to be “pick on Jezebel day”.

“I’m ready to go back to the office.” Escaping was the best way to go. Aidan had read her story in a matter of minutes. Jezebel had to end it fast, although there were still at least thirty minutes remaining in their date.

Aidan stood, reached up to her hair and brushed aside the flower. Before she could say thank you, his lips found their perfect mate. She gasped and pulled away, instantly reeling from a bolt of static.

“Don’t tell me you don’t kiss either?” Now his head was slanted as he taunted.

“Actually, I don’t.”

“Jezebel, you’re one of a kind. Let’s get you back to work.”

As they approached Jezebel’s office she decided that from this point on, Aidan would be off limits. Their silent walk was deafening. He hadn’t taken her hand again, so she hoped to avoid further embarrassment from this point on.