Authors: Curtis Bunn
Seize the Day (34 page)
She needed someone to not be so delicate with her. Their weekly flirtations became every-other-day chats on the phone and then every day and then several times a day. Juanita looked forward to hearing from him. And she enjoyed sneaking away to contact him. She enjoyed the adventure, the daring. It provided an edge to her life that was not there. But she vowed not to see himâ¦until he challenged her.
“You still can't control yourself around me? That's why we can't meet for a drink?”
That was all it took. She wanted to see Brandon. But she could not be the one who initiated it. And she had to resist when he asked. It had to be workâ¦or appear to be work for him to get her to agree. She could not allow him to think she was easy. So she resisted. Brandon persisted, and she finally gave in.
When she saw him, she melted. Her heart fluttered. She was excited. She tried to pass it off as normal since she had not been in the private company of a man other than her husband in a decade.
It wasn't so much that he looked even better than he had when they were together in their mid-twenties. It was that his presence was commanding. He owned the room, from the hostess at the restaurant to the waiter to the bartender when they sat at the bar after dinner. He drew people into him. He showed a different personality from her husband, a lively personality. She felt totally comfortable with him that first night. She was ultra-attracted to him.
He did not try to get her into bed, which made her like him more. He looked at photos of her familyâbut she did not include pictures of Mauriceâand talked about old times, caught up on each other's livesâ¦everything other than sex. She was a little disappointed at first; she thought his lack of interest in sex indicated he was not attracted to her. But she quickly dismissed that notion; she kept herself together by being mindful of what she ate and consistently working out. No, Brandon was being respectfulâand that turned her on more.
By the end of the month, she was inviting sex. Not with words, but in how she dressed when they met: always in dresses or short skirts with tops that accentuated her body. It became a challenge to her to make him want her.
Finally, Brandon's discipline collapsed and he kissed her when he walked her to her car after their fifth time together. It was following lunch at the St. Regis in downtown Washington, D.C., near the White House. Juanita did not resist. She closed her eyes and her senses were heightened. She could smell his YSL Black cologne. She felt his heart beat up against her chest. He was intoxicating. She was drunk.
“I shouldn't be doing this,” she said. “But I want to.”
Brandon could have taken advantage of her. Instead, he said, “I'm sorry. But I gotta tell you: My attraction for you is stronger than ever. Can I ask you something? Why are you here with me?”
Juanita did not have an answer. Well, not an answer she wanted to share. But Brandon had a hold over her, and she told him the truth.
“I should not be here and every time after I leave you, I say it's the last time,” she started. “Even though we haven't done anythingâ”
“Yet,” Brandon interjected.
“Even though we haven't done anything,” Juanita continued, “I feel bad, like I've betrayed my husband, my vows. The problem is that it's exciting. Seeing you makes me feel alive. I love my life, my family, my husband. I do. But⦔
“But what?” Brandon asked.
“I need something more,” she said. “I can't believe I'm saying this or that I'm even here with you. But it's where I want to be. My husband is a good man. He's a good man.”
“When can I see you again?” Brandon asked.
“When do you want to?” she answered. That wasn't the answer her head told her to give.
“Tonight. Right here. I'll get us a room and have room service for dinner after you get off work.”
Her heart raced from anticipation, and that scared her. She did not consider not coming. And knowing she'd have to lie to make herself available excited her. Even though she had never lied to Maurice and did not have an idea of what excuse she'd give her husband, she said, “What time?”
“Six thirty. I will text you the room number.”
The hours leading up to meeting Brandon were long for Juanita. Her anticipation mounted by the minute. She couldn't concentrate on work. The feeling in her stomach was a confluence of fear and excitement. It was similar to the feeling she'd had when she saved the big deal at work. When she realized that, she felt confident. When she had that feeling, she did her best work.
As the time to meet Brandon approached, she exited the office without the requisite small talk with colleagues. She just left. She felt guilty and believed she looked guilty.
She could not remember the ten-minute drive to the hotel. But when she got there, she sat at the bar in the lobby, and ordered a Dirty Martini. That was the drink she used to have when she was younger and more freewheeling.
She watched the high-rollers come and go at the bar and pondered their lives. She wondered if a couple on the couch was married or if they were having an affair. She wondered how far it would go with Brandon. But she knew if she went to that room what would happen.
When she finished the drink, she paid for it and made her way to the sixth floor. At Room 606, where Brandon texted her to come, she stood there several seconds. She teased her hair and made sure her dress lay neatly up against her body.
Finally, she knocked.
Credit: Sid Tutani
Curtis Bunn
is an award-winning sports journalist who transitioned into a best-selling and critically acclaimed author of novels that provide one-of-a-kind insight into the psyche of men. A graduate of Norfolk State University, he is a book club favorite who founded the National Book Club Conference, which hosts an annual event described as “Literary Bliss.” Visit him at
curtisbunn.com
and on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter
@curtisbunn
.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2015 by Curtis Bunn
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ISBN 978-1-59309-574-1
ISBN 978-1-4767-5872-5 (ebook)
LCCN 2015934966
First Strebor Books trade paperback edition December 2015
Cover design:
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Cover photograph: © Keith Saunders/Keith Saunders Photos
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