Desire

by Cassie Verano

  “Woooowwww!” Lori said. “That’s really harsh and judgmental, KK.”

  “Well, it’s probably the truth.”

  “Hmmph, in my experience, those are the kind that’ll break your back. And that’s what you need is some good old-fashioned back-breaking,” Rhonda pronounced as though she were the expert in all things back-breaking.

  “No, I don’t have time for that. Besides, even if I did, it wouldn’t be with him.”

  “Why, because he isn’t attractive?” Lori asked.

  “No...I mean, I guess he could be if he were to get rid of those things in his head. But that’s not it at all.”

  “Then what is it?” Lori persisted.

  “His ass had the nerve to call me Felicia.”

  “Huh?” my sister and cousin said at once.

  “As in ‘bye, Felicia.’”

  I waited until they finished having their fun at my expense. They were laughing so hard, and to me, it just wasn’t that damned funny.

  “Come on, ladies, it’s not that funny. And hell, I’m not a damn crackhead!”

  That set off another round of laughter.

  “Honestly, is that all you’ve got?” Lori asked when they’d finished laughing.

  “He’s too young. He looks as if he’s no more than twenty-nine, thirty-one tops.”

  “Re-a-www,” Rhonda said, pulling out her cat claws and mimicking her version of what a cat sounded like.

  “Pssh, whatever!” I said, waving her off.

  “There’s nothing wrong with going cougar, girl! That’s all I’m saying,” Rhonda pointed out.

  “That’s not the life for me. I didn’t work my ass off to get this far and become stupid over some young boy who’ll leave me high and dry. I won’t be penniless over a piece of meat,” I said.

  “KK, don’t you think it’s been long enough?” Lori asked on almost a whisper.

  I turned my face away from my sister and stared out the window. Not seeing anything because it was dark outside, I needed something to take away the painful memories. I wanted to crush the pain I was feeling.

  It was always there with me, a constant companion just below the surface. And conversations like this only woke it up and made it fresh.

  “Mm-mm,” I said. “Not tonight.”

  “Well, when?” Rhonda asked.

  “Not tonight,” I said forcefully.

  My sister and cousin grew silent. I grabbed the bottle of wine on the table and refilled mine and Rhonda’s wineglass.

  “Get your asses up! We’ve got a baby to celebrate tonight! My little niece or nephew is on the way,” I proclaimed.

  Grabbing the remote, I turned on the system and selected, Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody.

  Rhonda and Lori instantly popped out of their chairs like a kernel of popcorn.

  They moved into the middle of the floor and danced with me, pretending to be my backup singers while I belted out Whitney’s song.

  There was no time for sadness or memories right now. It was a time of celebration.

  There’d be plenty of sadness in this house tonight after I closed my eyes. When no one was watching, and I could safely let my guard down.

  CHAPTER 5 – ZYMIR

  Home, sweet, home. My grandmother had returned home to Rio De Janeiro four days earlier, and I’d flown out the very next day to Atlanta, Georgia. I’d had a meeting with Kent Black, a real estate property investor and businessman I’d met at a restaurant earlier in the year when I’d been in Atlanta on business.

  He had recognized me right away and approached me about doing some work on one of his cars. Kent had a 1967 Pontiac GTO. She was beautiful, but the car needed some engine work, and he’d wanted some different tires and a custom paint job.

  My custom car design shop specialized in custom cosmetic designs and repairs, but I no longer did the work. I had worked hard since high school saving money to have a shop of my own one day. I’d gone to college to get a degree in automotive technology while working part-time. Every single dime I’d earned went into a savings account, growing the funds I’d acquired in high school.

  My parents funded all of my needs throughout high school and college, which weren’t many. I worked another couple of years after graduating from college before I had enough money to invest in a small shop. Through the years, I was able to reinvest profits and expand my business.

  Quickly earning a reputation for doing custom designs on cars, I began to get business from hip-hop artists who were willing to pay top dollar. Now I had locations in L.A., Atlanta, and my original shop here in Summer Cove, North Carolina.

  It was seldom that I did any of the work anymore, but I had considered doing it for Mr. Black. The deciding factor would be if he wanted to have the car shipped here to North Carolina or not. I wouldn’t travel to Atlanta just to do the work.

  I’d assured him that my mechanics were skilled at what they did and that we had some of the best mechanics in the country. I knew that he wanted me to take the job personally, but I tried to stay on the business side of things now.

  I pulled my clothes out of my suitcase and tossed them in the dirty clothes bin, and headed straight to the bathroom. Stripping out of my clothes, I turned the shower up as hot as I could stand it to wash away the grime from traveling.

  As much as I wanted to grab a meal and go to bed to relax, I couldn’t.

  Before leaving, I’d noticed my neighbor lady hadn’t had her car towed. At one point, I had seen someone over there checking her car out, but I knew it still needed repairing. It was parked in the same spot as it had been since it had put her down one week ago.

  No matter how much I didn’t want to deal with her attitude, I couldn’t get my grandma out of my mind. She’d made me promise to make sure the “nice neighbor lady” was okay. I’d tried to explain to her that the woman was anything but nice, but she wasn’t having it.

  I figured that my grandma wouldn’t know if I checked on her or not, but I would know. And my guilty conscience wouldn’t allow me to get any sleep until I did.

  So, I washed away the grime, got dressed, and headed straight to the kitchen.

  I smiled when I spotted the marinated pork in the container in the refrigerator. My grandma had made it for me just before she’d left. I hadn’t had much time to enjoy it, but I was ready to now.

  Pulling out the pork and bread, vegetables, and a few other items, I set to work to prepare a Bifana. The bread that I used was crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. I pulled off a piece of pork and tested it. Just as succulent as it had always been when she’d made it during my youth.

  I knew she marinated it in garlic, paprika, and white wine. I slathered spicy mustard on the bread, layered out the tomatoes and cucumbers on the sandwich, added a dash of oregano, salt, pepper, and a vinaigrette I’d made. Finally, I added the pork and placed the sandwich together.

  Satisfied with my sandwich, I removed a beer from the refrigerator and headed into the den to watch a game of futebol.

  No matter how hard I tried to stay focused throughout the game, I failed. My mind kept turning over things I needed to do and roaming back to Karina.

  I was feeling relaxed, but I knew I should head over there and check on her car. Gratitude would probably be nonexistent, but at least I could have peace knowing I’d done my part.

  I finished eating my sandwich and polished off the remainder of the beer. Flicking the television off, I headed to the kitchen to clean.

  When I couldn’t procrastinate any longer, I headed out the house, down my long driveway, and across the street.

  “Merda!” I said, glaring at the car as I passed it, as if it were the responsible party for my current predicament.

  Although it was an inanimate object, it was the reason for my current predicament. If it hadn’t been for this breaking down, I’d not be standing here pushing the doorbell now.

  I pushed the doorbell a couple of more times before I stepped to the bottom of the porch.
Just as I was preparing to leave, I heard the door pull open.

  “Merda!” I whispered again underneath my breath.

  Just when I’d thought that I had gotten lucky and she wasn’t home, she’d reared her beautiful head.

  “Jamir!” she called out.

  Slowly, I turned to face her, my shoulders back and head held upright.

  “Karina,” I acknowledged with a polite nod.

  “Is there something that I can help you with?” she asked, one hand on one of those shapely hips, while the other brushed an errant strand of hair from her face.

  I noticed she had on a half-tee and some leggings. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a sweatband around it. It wasn’t just for show either. She was putting in some work if the sweat stains in her chest area and under her armpits were any indication.

  From the looks of things, I guessed I’d interrupted her workout session.

  “Actually, I was just coming to check on dis...thees...this car,” I said, pointing at her car and dropping my hand to my side.

  Her eyes widened. I guessed she was surprised that I’d returned to inquire about her car. I was sure, with her nasty attitude, she probably didn’t have many friends who cared about her or expressed concern for her wellbeing.

  “You have been practicing,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Your ‘t’ sounds much better than before.”

  Or maybe she wasn’t surprised about the inquiry into the car. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my loose-fitting cargo shorts, I turned away and looked at the car and then back to her.

  “Yes, I’ve been practicing. But about your car? Has it been sent to the shop or no?” I asked.

  “No. It hasn’t.”

  “So, you’ve been waiting for me?”

  “No. I’ve had three men come out and quote prices on it. They’re ridiculously overpriced, and only one of them was certified to work on the car. What’s worse, he, of course, was the highest one, because he isn’t here in Summer Cove. His location is more than twenty-five miles from here,” she said in an ironic tone.

  “Okay, so now you know that I was telling the truth. Are you ready for me to take a look at it now?”

  Karina slowly took me in from head to toe before dismissively rolling her eyes. I didn’t have the time to play with her. I needed to head back across the street and leave the lady with her issues.

  “How do I know that you’re certified to take care of my vehicle?” she asked, frowning at me.

  “You can come to my shop, and I can prove it to you, you can look me up online, or maybe you can take me at my word,” I said with a mild shrug.

  She blew out a loud sigh before saying, “Fine. When can you pick it up?”

  “First thing tomorrow morning.”

  “And how long will you have it?”

  I pretended to think about that for a moment. I’d already made phone calls just in case she agreed to allow me to repair the car. A very close friend of mine in the automotive industry happened to have a starter available for the foreign car. There was no need for extended wait time due to shipping the part in.

  “I can have it back to you the day after tomorrow,” I replied confidently.

  Lifting an eyebrow, she said, “Are you sure you’re qualified to deal with this? I mean, whenever I have repairs done to my car, the mechanic always has to have the parts shipped in. They’re not readily available, you know.”

  A slow smile spread across my lips.

  “Like I said, day after tomorrow.”

  I began to walk away, my hands stuffed in the pockets of my pants.

  “Wait, how much will that be?” she called when I’d finally gotten to the bottom of her driveway.

  I pretended not to hear her and jogged across the street to my driveway and headed back into the house. Miss Karina Kendricks was about to learn a thing or two in being neighborly.

  CHAPTER 6 – KARINA

  “...and this is a good amount of meat. We’ll keep the stove at four-twenty-five, and crisp off the edges.”

  I moved to chop up my vegetables while the ground turkey began to brown. I moved between chopping the red onions, colored peppers, garlic cloves, cilantro, and jalapenos to return to the stove.

  When I had finished adding salt, pepper, cumin, coriander, and fresh fennel, I scooped the vegetables in with the meat.

  “You want to make sure that your meat is nice and minced. There’s no room for chunky meat in this recipe, baby. Now to make sure that your turkey is brown, you can turn the temperature on the stove down to low and let it cook thoroughly. I’m just going to leave it in here for three minutes, okay?”

  After I’d finished with that, I moved to the refrigerator and grabbed my romaine lettuce. I would return later and edit the video to cut out anything that didn’t make for smooth and easy viewing.

  “Now, we’ll chop up the lettuce and then the red onion for our garnish. And you want to dice it as small as possible. Remember, we already have it in the recipe, so we’re not adding this for more flavor, although you will get that, really, you just want it to look good.”

  I moved to the stove and removed the pan of meat from the burner and set it on a rear burner.

  “I love using Mission tortilla chips. The round kind because they hold the perfect amount of meat and they’re sturdy. You don’t have to worry about them breaking or bending under the weight of your food.”

  Picking up a tortilla chip, I bit into one and closed my eyes.

  “Friend! Those are perfect for this recipe. They’ve got the right amount of saltiness to complement the creaminess of the avocado flavor.”

  My doorbell began to ring, and I schooled my face into a surprised look.

  “Now, I wonder who can that be? I never get visitors during the middle of the day. I’ll be right back, y’all.”

  I walked out of my kitchen, curious as to who was at the door. Depending on my guest, I could bring them into the video with me. But if it wasn’t anyone that could add interesting content, I could always edit this part out later.

  Peering through the sidelights on the door, I frowned.

  What in the hell?

  I jerked the door open and stood looking expectantly at my neighbor from across the street. Zymir. Yes, I knew his name, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that I remembered it. So, instead, I greeted him the way I always did.

  “Yes, Jamir, what is it that you want?”

  A slow grin crept on his face, and he shook his head. I noticed he wore a pair of khaki pants paired with a lightweight, summer long-sleeved, light-blue linen shirt. It was opened at the collar down to the second button.

  I was able to see that there was a tattoo on his chest.

  As his eyes crept over me, I was thankful that I didn’t look the way I had the night when he had popped up. I was embarrassed to be caught in my workout attire. Mostly because I was stained all over with sweat, and I knew I stunk from exercising.

  Today, I wore a pair of blue denim jeans with cuffs to mid-shin, a white off-the-shoulder gauzy shirt, ruffled around the top. My hair was carelessly pulled up into a messy bun with a few tendrils of hair escaping. I wore white slides on my feet.

  While not dressed to impress, I knew that I was cute. I always made sure the outfits that I wore for my videos were cute and casual. After all, the show was titled Simply Divine.

  My title wasn’t all about the cooking. I wanted my viewers to know they could cook great meals and be cute and simple.

  “Good morning to you, too, Miss Karina.”

  Zymir and those damned rolling “r’s.” Why did he have to roll the “r” in my name that way?

  Crossing my arms, I tilted my head and waited for him to tell me what he wanted to say.

  “I don’t get a good morning back?”

  “Will you please get on with the point of your visit? I mean, after all, I am working so...”

  He tilted his head slightly and leaned forward. I leaned back
and frowned at him.

  “Smells like you’re cooking something good. It doesn’t seem like work to me.”

  “Now who’s being rude. I am cooking, which in my line of business happens to be work. Now, if you didn’t want anything, I need to get back to what I’m doing,” I said impatiently.

  “I was coming to tell you about your car.”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s ready.”

  “Oh.”

  “I was prepared to drive it back here, but I didn’t think you would take too kindly to anyone driving your car that far. So, I thought I’d give you the option. And I didn’t want to have it towed back here just in case you weren’t here to get the keys back.”

  When he arrived with a tow truck waiting at the bottom of my driveway, I gave implicit instructions to handle my car with care. I’d demanded no one else drive it other than to test out its performance.

  “Oh...uh, I can, well I can go pick it up in a couple of hours. I just need to finish what I’m working on, and then I’ll call an Uber and head over.”

  Zymir frowned at me. “There’s no need for that. I can take you to my shop.”

  “No, no. I can call an Uber.”

  “Really, Miss Karina, I don’t mind.”

  If he said my name like that one more time, I would scream. Somehow, he rolled it off his tongue in such a sensual way, like he was caressing it or something. Squeezing my hands tightly at my side, I pressed a smile to my lips.

  “Okay, that’s fine. But I still need two hours.”

  Zymir’s eyes traveled down to where my fists were balled at my side as he slowly nodded his head.

  “Relax, Miss Karina. My ‘street’ ways won’t rub off on you. And I promise that I don’t bite. I think you should know that by now,” he said with a wink.

  He turned, jogged down my steps, and headed down the driveway.

  For some strange reason, I was still standing there when he reached the end of my driveway.

  “Two hours,” he called out, never turning around.

  Huffing a sigh, I slammed the door closed, and headed back to the kitchen.