Write on – the next big romance by Helen Turner! Yay!
***
Chris had been invited at a barbecue at Mike's with two more couples and a grand total of three children. As his best friend struggled with the barbecue, Chris went to the kitchen to see if Diane needed any help – but mostly to get away from the little crowd of happy families who were grating on his nerves more than usual.
"Hi. Need help?" he asked watching Diane dress a salad.
"No, I'm fine. Is there enough beer?"
"Yes, and Mike is burning everything as usual."
Diane shook her head with a smile. "How's the search going?" She knew about it, of course. She'd known Chris for many years, after all. It was the first time they were alone since his search for a wife had started, though, so she jumped at the chance to hear first-hand news, instead of hearing Mike's version of it.
Chris moaned, exasperated. "I don't know, sometimes I think I'll never make it," he complained. Time was flying and he was nowhere near his goal. Diane was different than Linda, though, so maybe she had a wisdom his co-worker didn't have – she was a few years older, and an old friend of his.
"Why not?" she chided. "You do have a heart."
"Coming from you, it's very kind. I dumped you."
"When we started dating, your father had just passed away. It's been twenty years since."
"A lot of things happened in twenty years. I moved up the ladder at the Goldberg Corporation, for instance."
"Don't you feel the need to find that special someone to spend your old days with?" she asked.
"What if she doesn't make it to the old days, like my mother?" he retorted.
"Okay, but we're getting better against cancer. And don't you want children?"
"I don't know." Not really. What for? To lose them to the crazy world he lived in? To continue his bloodline? To have someone taking care of him when he was old? Now that was selfish! Why did people breed anyway?
"Chris, why are you so afraid of love?" Diane stared at him, serious. Damn women seemed always able to read him like a book.
"I'm not afraid of love, but of the pain that often comes with it," he answered. "Relationships, family ties, broken homes..."
"Where did you get that painful idea from?" she asked, nonplussed. "You lost your family too early, that's true, but it seems to me your friends all have solid marriages."
Chris shrugged and averted his eyes.
"You won't find love if you don't follow your heart," Diane continued. "You won't find a wife if you consider it another part of your beloved job."
Chris scoffed. "Mike told you I dated Susie?"
"Yeah. Bad idea." Diane shook her head in disapproval.
"Any suggestions, then?" Chris crossed his arms on his chest, staring defiantly at her.
"Loosen up." She gestured with arms and hands. "Open yourself. It will happen. When you least expect it."
"And if it happens after the six months deadline?"
Diane smiled and shrugged. "Get that love. Go for it, and you'll forget the rest."
Chris shook his head with a sigh. "I'm seeing someone, actually," he admitted. "Her name's Lucy, we've been to the library and to the movies."
"No sex yet?" she asked.
"No, but we're getting there," he answered, hoping he wasn't reading the signals wrong. Lately he felt he had lost his touch with the other sex and wasn't sure of anything anymore.
"And how does she make you feel?" Diane insisted.
"I don't know. She's nice, but..."
"Chris. Don't use your head."
"I'm trying! It's not easy, though."
Diane hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Good luck," she whispered in his ear. "You can do it."
Of course he could do it.
He could make love to Lucy in her small apartment. He hadn't read the signals wrong. She was sweet and obviously in love – much like Sandy – and he felt good with her. But was it love? He still had no idea.
***
Sarah Gordon knocked on Chris's cubicle's door. "Mr. Goldberg wants to see you," she announced.
"Uh, okay." Chris saved his file. "How come you didn't use the phone?"
"I'd like a word with you. In private. When you're done with him."
She almost blocked him, so he had to stop and look her in the eyes. Was that lust? She was more glamorous than ever, what was she after?
"Sure," he said quickly, slipping on his jacket and straightening his tie.
Mr. Goldberg discussed work first, but as was the habit for the past month and a half, he also inquired about his private life. "How are you doing with the other matter, do you need more free time?"
"No, I'm doing fine," Chris assured. "I'm seeing someone and it might get serious."
"Good, good." Mr. Goldberg nodded. "Don't forget to let me know the wedding date."
"We haven't talked about this yet, I don't want to scare her away."
"Most women are attracted to men who want to marry them, Mr. Coleman."
"Most but not all. I'm not sure what kind she is yet."
"I'll trust your judgment, then. That'll be all."
Chris wondered if he could ask for either more time or to accept a formal betrothal instead of a wedding. He didn't think he could convince anyone to marry him in four and a half months.
Sarah waited for him, seated at her desk. She smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. Now, that would be a woman who would probably marry him on short notice – for his position in the company. And he definitely didn't want that.
"I hear you go out with co-workers," Sarah said, batting her eyelashes.
"Yes, we like to meet in a restaurant and have a good time every now and then," he answered, ignoring her flirtatious ways.
"It's mostly married couples, though, how do you cope?"
"The children stay at home with babysitters."
"But what do you talk about with them?"
"Life, literature, whatever, why?"
"I'd love to come once," she purred.
He scoffed. "You mean with me?"
She nodded. "And then we could go on a date."
"I don't date colleagues."
"I've heard you do, lately."
"Office talk."
He turned his back on her and heard her mutter, "Bastard!" He guessed her seductive demeanor had vanished into a vengeful frown. Screw her.
7.
Terry part 5 – man, he sure loves IM! Okay, I like the way it's allowing us to communicate – not on the phone, on a chat window. I'm a fast typist, but he's obviously not, so he often shortens words. We're programming our third meeting, and it's sort of exhilarating. Now today ended a little strange. Started as usual (I could almost hear his voice), then went "bad". He talked about misbehaving, and I wanted to do something good for him. So he went "how abt with u giving me a hug when u see me and a nice soft kiss" – I said that was the easy part, but it's not, really. What was I thinking? Although I've never kissed a black man, they might taste different! I don't know. Just trying not to think about it, cause if I do, I'll just run away and avoid the whole thing altogether. I've been out of the dating game for so long, I'm scared to death to get back into it.
But then HE can't think of anything else, of course. He's focused, he knows what he wants – glad he does, because I have no idea. He says I make things easy for him. He says it's his job to make me at ease with this and that when we meet he'll be very attentive to my needs and wants.
He says thinking of me arouses him beyond belief. He says he's at loss for words but wants me to know what he's feeling and thinking. He has nice nasty thoughts (good for him, cause I don't). Guy doesn't use any punctuation, so I guess he's not really a writer. What was he doing at a writing conference anyway? Anyhow, I can hear his voice instead. And wow... I'm blushing all over, tee-hee!
So, he really can't wait for me to feel his touch, his lips on mine, his fingers in my hair and everywhere – he even knows how I'm going to respond, lucky him (
although I doubt he's right, haha). He's going to grab me and hold me and... yikes! This sounds awful! And then "ok give me a minute i need to calm myself" OMG, what is he doing? I'm both flattered and embarrassed.
Then he says he wants to bathe me and then massage me with warm oil – and then kiss me and lick me from head to toe. This sounds good, but... dunno... Actually, my reaction is "Yikes!"
He keeps going! He says he'll try not to be graphic – because of how I make him feel – but he wants to make love to me and wants me to come so hard (whatever that means) and he sees me on top of him moving nice and slow and I'm opening up to him and coming so hard all over him – which leaves me speechless and actually sort of disgusted, but I can't really tell him, can I? I don't want to think about him inside me and if this is not graphic, I don't know what is.
So that's chat-sex? And some people find it arousing? Meh. Me don't understand. And don't want to. "so picture both of us naked but i am not touching you—-we are standing up and i am behind you whispering softly in ur ear telling you how pretty you are and telling you what i am going to do to you——then picture me turning you around and just looking at you in awe of you——and then taking your hands and have them run all over my body touching me and feeln every part of me" Ugh. I don't know for how long I can keep going. I've got Tina on the other chat window asking me what's going on, and I'm all giggly and nervous like hell. "darling so im busting out of my pants u got me going crazy do you mind if i go and think about us and pleasure myself"
There, he's gone. Still don't get what the whole fuss is about. And not only because I'm a woman, I'm afraid. How do I feel? Confused. Certainly not looking forward to THAT. Not aroused either. Apprehensive more like. Dunno. We'll see what happens when we meet in person, I guess!
***
Helen found her aunt with her husband in his small studio. Both were reading their favorite newspapers, but Aunt Danielle looked up when she entered the room.
Helen handed her the printed manuscript of her latest baby, as her aunt was always her trusted first reader.
"Another novel done?" Mr. Goldberg asked with mild interest. He probably thought writing fiction was a waste of time. He never read any.
"You know I'm a compulsive writer," she answered with a shrug.
"You sure are," he said. "Did you meet Chris Coleman at the spring barbecue?"
There, he had asked – almost two weeks after the event.
"No, why?" she answered, trying to sound innocent and feeling a complete fraud.
"I think you'd love him, both of you are completely absorbed by your job," he said.
"Isn't that the young man you introduced to me and Amanda?" Aunt Danielle asked him.
"Yes, well, he's too old for Amanda, but he'd be perfect for Helen."
"Are you trying to set me up again?" Helen put her fists on her hips, glaring at Mr. Goldberg. After fifteen years she still couldn't call him Uncle. "I told you I don't need help! I have suitors!"
"Then why don't you let them get close to you?" he asked.
She shrugged and crossed her arms on her chest. "Because I like them, but I don't love them."
Mr. Goldberg shook his head with a sigh. "Both you and Chris need to fall in love soon," he declared, staring at his newspaper.
She smiled mischievously. "Sure! And live happily ever after!" she teased. The old man still believed in happy endings. Unbelievable.
"You used to love fairy tales," Aunt Danielle observed with a hint of melancholy.
"Until I understood they don't happen in the real world," she retorted. Again she imagined bringing Terry to the Goldberg Mansion. She doubted even sweet Aunt Danielle would accept a black Prince Charming – if such thing existed in the first place. Prince Charmings weren't supposed to get into your pants, were they?
"They do," her aunt insisted.
"Wait and see," Mr. Goldberg added, nodding for emphasis.
They quickly kissed with satisfied smiles.
Helen snorted, rolling her eyes. Old fools. Their cuddly ways grated on her nerves. She went looking for Amanda to tell her about the latest chat with Terry.
***
"Hello?" Chris answered the phone while still staring at the screen, absorbed in his work.
"Hi, Chris, it's your favorite writer here." Helen's voice brought him back to reality, and he leaned back on his chair.
"Hi, Helen!" He grinned even if she couldn't see him. "I thought you'd reply by e-mail because you said you hate the phone!"
"I do, but you used the company mail with your extension on it and I couldn't resist." she sounded cheerful.
"I'm flattered," he said. "So you liked my comments?"
"Very thought-provoking," she answered. "Do you want to be a Wise Reader for me?"
"What is a wise reader?" he wondered.
"I can send you a memo on Orson Scott Card's theory on Wise Readers if you want. But you seem to be pretty good at it already."
"Thanks, even if I don't know what you mean, I appreciate it."
"I'm looking for a male point of view on my writing. So far I've worked only with females."
"Mr. Goldberg doesn't read your stuff?"
"I sure hope not! But I thought you might enjoy the task."
"Were my comments that impressive?"
"Yes, plus the fact that Mr. Goldberg believes in you so much. He doesn't trust that many people."
"Have you discussed this with him?"
"No, I just listen to him when he talks about you. He doesn't know we're in touch."
"Good. I wouldn't want him to think I'm after you."
"Are you?"
"Do I sound like I'm after you?"
She giggled. "No, or I couldn't have called. Do you have a private e-mail?"
"I sure do. And also a home and cell phone number, just in case."
"I hate you when you tease me like this."
"You don't sound hateful."
"I'm not. I'll send you the memo and you can send me all your details."
"Deal. Look forward to reading you."
"Good-bye, Chris."
"Bye!" He hung up with a big grin on his face, shaking his head. Helen was crazy, but maybe all writers were. He was honored she had chosen him for such a task.
That night, Lucy came to his apartment for dinner, bringing two pizza boxes. "Dinner, sir!" she announced with a bright smile.
She lightly kissed his lips and he took the boxes from her hands. "Table is ready, ma'am," he assured.
They both sat and started eating.
"So, how was your day?" Lucy asked between bites.
"I'm not complaining, even if time flies," he answered. "You?"
"Every day a new problem!" She snorted in frustration. "Sometimes I think I really should quit!"
"Why? You love your job."
She smiled. "True. Will you come over tomorrow night?"
"Sure. You know my Fridays are all yours."
"I wish I could also have the rest of the week!" She sighed, lowering her eyes.
"I'm working on that," he said, spying her reaction.
She brightened with hope. "Really?"
"Yeah." He grinned at her, holding her hand across the table.
She blew him a kiss. She was obviously ready. He only needed to gather the courage to ask her to marry him. Easier said than done...
***
Mike and Chris had lunch at the cafeteria as usual, but women kept stopping by Chris and either smiled or audaciously touched him, trying to be seductive. He weakly smiled back, not really looking at them, while Mike observed everything with an amused look on his face.
"How does it feel to be the company's most wanted bachelor?" Mike leaned forward to whisper his question and wink.
Chris groaned. "It's horrible. Especially since I do have a girlfriend now."
"How's Lucy? Is she the one?" Mike stared intently at him.
Chris averted his eyes. "She's very sweet. But I still can't feel my heart in it," he admitted.
"I know. I'm considering breaking up."
"Again! Jesus!" Mike snorted, exasperated.
"What?" Chris frowned. He didn't like being confused, no need to make him feel worse with such comments.
"Why can't you commit to something else than the Goldberg Corporation?" Mike asked.
"I have my books," Chris answered defensively.
"Yeah, but you can't marry them," Mike retorted. "Maybe the authors... Any of your favorite female authors still single?"
Chris shrugged. "Dunno. Not interested in their private lives."
"Well, you must get interested in someone else's life, or you'll never find that wife."
"Lucy is nice, but I don't love her. We like the same books, but I don't see myself spending my life with her."
Mike shook his head. "Okay, so if Lucy is almost out of the picture, who's left?"
"Sarah Gordon," Chris said through clenched teeth, staring at his now empty plate with a frown.
"You mean she's after you?" Mike inquired.
"Yep."
"The princess on the pea is after you and you keep turning her down?"
"I could screw her if it makes you happy, but I'm not going to marry her," Chris snapped.
"Why not?" Mike objected. "She's sexy, hot, everything a man could dream of..."
"If you weren't already married, would you marry her?"
"No, I mean... yeah, well, I guess I got your point." Mike's shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"Thanks," Chris muttered.
Mike pondered. "Still, you could... you know, on behalf of us scorned co-workers..."
Chris scoffed. "If I quit on Lucy, I'll give a pass at her," he promised. "But she's not my type."
"How can't she be your type?" Mike protested. "You'd look like the glamorous couple everybody would envy!"
Chris shrugged. "There are enough envious people around, I don't need a pin-up wife to add to that."
"Have you signed up with some matchmaking agency?"
"No. I don't know what I want, therefore I can't ask anyone to find it for me..."
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