The Christmas Quilts

by Olivia Gaines

  “Okay. Okay. Yes to all of your questions. I will have my booth set up tomorrow morning for sales and signings. We will be open all day Saturday and Sunday to take orders as well,” Bisa told them. “However, right now, I need a shower and a hot meal.”

  “It was so awesome to meet you. I can’t wait to get into your store,” a round-bellied woman added.

  “Nice to meet you all as well,” she said.

  The clerk behind the counter tried to get her attention. “Ms. Washington, they are doing a conference check-in down the hall. It may behoove you to check in now ahead of the crowds,” he said.

  “Thank you, we will,” she said, looking at Cody. “Is there room service?”

  “Yes, there is,” the clerk said.

  “Can you order a steak dinner and chicken dinner and have it sent to my suite. I have a gluten sensitivity so on the chicken meal, can you ask the chef to keep that in mind?” she asked him.

  “You ordered me a steak?” Cody asked.

  “I did. After a long hard day, a man needs the company of a good woman and good meal,” she said with a smile.

  “Now you’re talking.”

  THE TRIP TO THE HOTEL room was an enlightening experience for Cody. Several people stopped Bisa to either thank her for making their quilting lives easier or to make requests for her fabrics. Others wanted her to reserve copies of her latest book, all of which Cody had no knowledge of or any idea she was a published author. She had to be pulled away by him as the crowds around her grew, slinking away to catch an empty elevator to their room.

  The hotel suite was roomy and spacious with a private bedroom and a fold out sleeper sofa. He opted to use the front closet to hang his clothing and the drawers under the television to store his things. They had to share the bathroom as he put away his shaving items, toothbrush and paste. The rest remained in his travel bag on one side of the double sink.

  Her side of the sink looked like a shelf from a natural foods store. Coconut oil, jojoba oil, olive oil, and various forms of butters in shea and other items he’d never heard of either. Her deodorant was a crystalized stick shaped like a small penis.

  “Cody, you okay in there?”

  “Um, yeah. Just going to grab a quick shower before dinner arrives,” he said, starting the taps.

  He washed the day off him, slipping on a pair of running shorts. He’d forgotten his shirt and instead of putting the one back on he wore all day, he left the bathroom shirtless. At the same time, dinner arrived, but Bisa was on the phone.

  “I got it,” he said, walking around the boxes, which had arrived while he was in the shower. Signing the check, he took the trays of food to the table and headed into the small kitchenette to look for glasses. “Bisa, are we in for the night?”

  “Yes, I brought my Firestick so we can Netflix and chill,” she said, realizing too late the innuendo.

  “Cool, I will hook it up,” he said, walking past her, bare chested, looking sexy, and smelling entirely good enough to eat for dinner.

  She’d all but forgot she was on a phone call with her mother and the words coagulated in her mouth as she watched him mill about the room, moving around the boxes with his muscles straining. Either the room was getting warmer or she was. His damp hair falling across his temples as he bent over gave her a bird’s eye view of well-toned, hairy legs, and a tight little bottom.

  “Stop staring at my ass, Bisa,” he said, shifting the last box so they had a clear and unobstructed path.

  “Mom, I have to go. Room service just arrived,” she said. “Love you, bye.”

  Her mother was still talking into the line when Bisa disconnected the call. The primary focus of her attention was on all the sexy which was Cody Richardson.

  “You are in really great shape,” she said.

  “I run every morning,” he said, pulling a tee shirt over his head. “I have some sweats but that may make me too hot during the night, so I hope me being in a pair of running shorts isn’t being too casual.

  “I’m not understanding,” she said.

  “The couch lets out into a bed. I am sleeping on the couch,” he said.

  “Oh,” she responded, almost disappointed.

  “The couch shouldn’t bother me too much,” he told her, his eyes grazing over her a bit, then dropping to the floor. He’d done it as if he were about to say something, then cancelled the thought.

  “Please share with me what else is on your mind, Cody.”

  “I’m hungry,” he said, the eyes settling on her breast, then looking away at the trays of food. She took his two words about his current state as a double entendre on his current state of being, which may or may not have been about the meal in front of them. He took a seat at the table and uncovered the dinner plates.

  “Is that all that’s running through that head of yours?” she asked, arching a well-trimmed eye-brow.

  “Well, I didn’t know you were an author, had a YouTube channel, fans, stalkers and what is this about your fabric?”

  He uncovered the dishes, his mouth watering over the steak. The baked potato slathered with sour cream, butter and bacon bits felt like an old friend he hadn’t had the pleasure to spend time in years. He smiled as he lowered his head, blessing his meal, then slicing a big chunk of the red meat, shoving it into his mouth. He chewed happily looking up at her, waiting, if not almost challenging her to make one dang comment about the meat coagulating in his colon. Cody swallowed noisily, cutting away a smaller piece this time, dragging it through the butter on the plate which had melted and ran from the potato. He watched her eyes as he lifted the fork from the plate to his mouth. He chewed slow, watching her face.

  Bisa had nothing to say about his meal. He seemed to really enjoy his chunk of flesh, smiling as he savored each colon clogging piece. She remembered his words about a man wanting only the simple things in life. There was no need to ruin his enjoyment with nagging which would only irritate him and make the meal unpalatable. Instead she opted to speak on her craft.

  “The fabrics in my store are all hand dyed with vegetable dyes. I make them myself and no two patterns are the same. People order whole bolts of it or by the yard. The items in those boxes are pre-cut with the best patterns from my books, so yeah, people are excited to get their hands on what I brought,” she said.

  “Those boxes have twenty-five thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise?”

  “Sure do. After dinner, I will need to show you how to make sales, so tomorrow, we go to work. I will pay you for your time, of course,” she told him.

  “I get kisses and paid, too? This is my lucky weekend,” he said, winking at her.

  “No Cody, I am the lucky one. We are starting to bloom,” she said.

  He had a snappy comeback about planting his seeds but he held it.

  “A published author as well. May I ask how that came about?” The questioned was posed as a distraction. Cody Richardson held a great number of things to himself as she sat close to him. The scent of vanilla on her skin, gentle tickling his nose as he inhaled her scent.

  “I had a blog on quilting, that a publisher at one of the Big Five saw and wanted me to make it into a book. I got offered a nice advance against sales but I refused it, opting instead to take 5,000 copies of the book. Three of those boxes are loaded with a couple dozen of those books which I will sell tomorrow and not have to share any of my profits.”

  “How much are the books?”

  “I have priced them at $20.00 each so they will move quickly. That is ten dollars below the publisher’s price,” she said smiling, giving him that warm feeling again which stopped mid-way his body. Cody grabbed the nearest pillow placing it in his lap. He calculated the pure profit she would net from the books moving closer to the warmth which radiated off her supple brown skin, hoping his current state would not poke a hole in the pillow.

  “Come on, let me go over how to make sales tomorrow and the portions you will be responsible to handle,” Bisa said, crossing a long leg, exposing
a well-toned thigh. Cody almost gasped audibly, closing his eyes, breathing deeply to still his racing heart. It took a bit of effort, but he managed to focus on the screen.

  Patiently, Bisa went over the transactions in her tablet which served as the point of sale for the products which would be sold. He asked well directed questions, even moving a strand of hair from her eyes so he could better see her face when she spoke. His touch shot through her like a bolt of heat. She found herself getting warmer by the second, hoping, that her shaking hands were not a giveaway of her nervousness at being so close to him.

  For the oddest reason she found herself pleasantly surprised that he had not made a move on her. The evening went smoothly as she went over books, bags, packages and bolts of fabric for but he was tired and had the desire to hold the woman instead of the technology. In the middle of Bisa explaining the details to him, he was overcome with the need to kiss her. His mouth made contact with her neck, sending ripples of goosebumps down her arms.

  “Cody, this is important,” she giggled a little, as she pulled away from him.

  “So is kissing you. Work time is over. Now it’s our time,” he said taking the tablet from her hands. A few kisses later, she snuggled up next to him on the couch, watching, but not paying attention to the television, listening to the sound of his heart beating.

  I can get used to this.

  Chapter Thirteen – Sandwiching

  The morning started with a bang as most of the boxes were taken down to the conference center floor and Bisa began to set up her store. To his utter and sheer amazement, in less than an hour, a replica of her store in Aiken had been recreated in the large booth space she’d been assigned. The three quilts from the Museum exhibit hung like the inner walls in the booth space and the tables were lined with patterns, books and bolts of fabric.

  “Our goal today is make anywhere between eight and ten. Anything over that is bonus. The ‘Age of Innocence’ quilt will probably go quickly. When it does, there are other quilts under this table to replace those three. Those are the show stoppers,” Bisa told.

  “Eight and ten?”

  “Thousand.”

  “Dollars?” he asked in disbelief. He tried to calculate the number of books, kits and bolts they would have to sell to make that kind of dough in a day.

  “Yes. The ‘Age of Innocence’ is twenty five, the one to your right is priced at eight and the other simpler one is only five,” she told him.

  “As in hundreds?”

  “Yes Cody. These are high end quilts and people will pay money for the quality,” she told him.

  “I just find it hard to believe that someone will pay $2500 for a bed cover. What is it stitched with the tears of angels?” he asked sarcastically.

  “No, it is made out of Egyptian cotton, hand dyed with strained beets for the reds, eggplants for the purple and cherry woods for the browns,” she replied. “Yes, I use tree barks for coloring.”

  “Well, color me impressed,” he said as he unloaded the last box. It was only a third of the boxes she’d brought with her, but he was pumped up and ready to go. He eyed the clock.

  “The sales floor opens at ten. My panel starts at 10:15. There will be a mad rush at the start but I should be back no later than 11:30. Take it easy, one customer at time. Give them all great service, but don’t let them touch the quilts that are hanging. The oils from their fingers can ruin the sales,” Bisa said.

  “Got it,” he told her, looking at his watch.

  “I have to go. Are you okay with all of this?”

  “Sure. I am about as comfortable as a one-legged man in a sprint,” he told her, smiling awkwardly.

  “You’ve got this. You will earn twenty percent of whatever the take each day,” she said touching his arm. “A kiss for good luck?”

  “You won’t need it so I am going to kiss you because I want to,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist. The kiss was tender and laced with promises of things to come.

  He pulled away and Bisa’s eyes were still closed. There was work to be done but she wanted to stay in his arms. This morning, she wished she’d awakened in them but he was right about it clouding her judgement. The last thing she needed to focus on this weekend would be something sexual with Cody. It didn’t stop her mind from wandering back to the possibilities, especially after seeing him in those shorts with the perfect amount of hair on his chest.

  “Get going, Quilting Bee, we have money to make,” he told her pushing her out the booth.

  “I’ll bring us back some lunch,” she told him as she walked away from him, feeling lighter in her steps.

  “Go. I got this,” he said more confidently than he felt.

  The confidence waned even more as he watched her head disappear around the corner as the doors opened, allowing in a hoard of people, who made a long line at their makeshift store. He barely had time to say good morning before people began grabbing up quilting kits, packages, bolts of fabric and all but threw money at him. ‘The Age of Innocence’ quilt was sold by 10:30 with a long line stretching as far as he could see. He remained calm, selling, folding, and bagging as quickly as he could. By 11:45 Bisa was back with another crowd who wanted to buy her books and get autographs.

  “Let me help you,” she said to Cody, hanging another quilt to replace the one which was sold.

  “No, you sit and sign. I will sell,” he told her.

  She’d barely gotten the quilt on the pins to hang before a lady at the rear of the line yelled out, “That one is mine. I want that one!”

  Bisa took it down, folding it carefully and bagging it up for the customer. Cody said nothing more than, “Book signings to the left, sales are on me.”

  By four o’clock, her hand was cramped and her stomach rumbling, and she was ready to call it a day. When the five o’clock bell began to ring, an announcer came across the loud speakers informing everyone to make their final purchases and the sales floor would close.

  “We take the cash out of the register, grab the tablets, and cover everything up. Tomorrow, there is a speaker I want you to meet and to sit in on a session,” Bisa told him.

  Cody was too tired to speak. He grunted twice as he covered the tables while she removed the cash and collected the tablets she used to make sales. Quietly, they entered the elevator, looking up when it dinged on their floor, slowly lumbering off down the hall to their room.

  “I’ll draw you a bath to soak some of the tiredness out of you then order some dinner while you bathe,” she said.

  He nodded with a weak smile. Bisa added scented bath salts to the water, pointing for him to head to the tub. For dinner, she ordered Buffalo wings and fries for him and a fish dinner for herself. The food arrived before Cody extricated himself from the tub where he wanted to stay and sleep the night away. Drying himself slowly, he noticed his toes and fingers were wrinkled from being in the water for so long. More muscles ached in his body than making a six mile run as he joined Bisa at the table, smiling at her food choice for him.

  “Cody, we did twelve thousand in sales today,” she told him.

  He didn’t care. There was no reaction from him as she lay a wad of cash on the table in front of him. She told him it was his 20%.

  “I’m going to grab a shower and I will be back in a few,” she said after clearing the table.

  He only nodded again as he made his way to couch, picking up the remote.

  Bisa returned from the shower, reenergized and ready for a hard core make out session with her handy helper, but he was asleep, sitting upright on the couch, remote controller in hand, facing a black screen on the television.

  “Poor baby didn’t even have the strength to turn it on,” Bisa said, looking at him. She took a pillow from the cabinet, placing it under his head and covering him with a light blanket as she lay him down on the couch.

  “Good job today, Cody,” she said to his sleeping form, placing a light kiss on his forehead. He’d come through for her and she was grateful. When they got ba
ck to Aiken, she would come through for him as well. Her phone, which also served as a medium to live stream a great number of the day’s events, needed to be charged.

  Her phone rang and it was her mother.

  “Hello, Mom,” she said with a sigh of exasperation before the conversation even started.

  “Who is that white man working your booth in Paducah? I am seeing video clips all over the internet. Baby, did you swipe right?”

  “I am doing more than swiping right with him, Mom. His name is Cody Richardson and he is pretty amazing. I can’t wait for you to meet him,” Bisa said.

  “Bisa, are you telling me...,”

  “Yes. Mom, after today, I have no doubts that he is the one for me. I am head over heels, tumbling hard into love with this man,” Bisa told her.

  SIX A.M. AND CODY WAS dressed and ready for a morning run. He’d slept like a rotting log in a marsh bog. He didn’t remember the covering over him and assumed it had been placed over him by Bisa.

  Bisa.

  The more he thought about that woman the more he needed to run. It was going to be a challenge to get through the next three nights without crawling in her bed and treating her soft, sweet body as an overstuffed teddy bear. A teddy bear he want to hump in the worst way. Being a good guy in this instance really chapped his thighs, figuratively. The run would help. A nice run, a power smoothie, and then more crazed people freaking out over bed coverings. She had handed him $2,400 dollars in cash for one day’s worth of work.

  Antoine, you dumb ass.

  Bisa is a great girl.

  Smart.

  Sexy.

  Talented.

  Able to deal with my family.

  I wonder if her family will accept me?

  More thoughts filled his head as he stretched, set his watch, and eased out of the hotel room. The humid morning made it hard to breathe as he ran down the sidewalk and circled the block before heading west for a mile and a half. The trip back to the hotel on an alternate route would give him three miles. Three hard miles he ran during which the endorphins kicked in, giving him a weird high that tingled his nether regions. He was primed and ready to shoot at anything warm that breathed oxygen. First and foremost, he just needed a cool shower to bring down his body temperature. He silently wished for a cool shower before he laid eyes on Bisa.