Angelic Attraction

by Nicole French

“No worries, I’m running a bit late anyway. Be a love and get the wine and glasses out of the refrigerator for me would you?” I think I’ve got away with it—she hasn’t even looked at me yet as she’s concentrating on finishing off the paella she’s cooked. It smells delicious. Even more so as I skipped lunch and after seeing Brad only a few minutes ago I’ve worked up quite an appetite. I open the bottle of wine, set the chilled glasses onto the already laid table and begin to pour the wine.

  “Voila!” Jody announces as she places two plates of steaming hot paella onto the table with a proud smile. She loves cooking and beneath the wild veneer and her erratic moods there is a domesticated side that she lets free every once in a while. She walks around the table and gives me a big hug before we sit down to eat. “You look very flushed” she says with a suspicious look which startles me a little, as the true reason for my being flushed pops into my mind.

  “I’ve been rushing so I didn’t spoil the meal” I reply quickly to get her off the scent. She pauses for a minute, still inspecting me with narrowed eyes.

  “Where’s your lipstick? And why are your lips all red? If I didn’t know better I’d say you’ve been kissing” a crafty smile played over her mouth. There’s no hiding anything from Jody—she doesn’t miss a thing.

  “Okay, you’ve busted me. I’ve just seen Brad. He was waiting in the parking lot when I arrived home to surprize me” I decide that it’s easier to come clean than try to explain my appearance away—besides, I couldn’t think of anything plausible.

  “You horny little devil” she said and threw her head back in triumph at the fact she’s rumbled my indiscretion. “I take it you’re an item now then?” I really didn’t know how to answer that. Is Brad my boyfriend or are we just casual lovers? We haven’t had that conversation yet. Now my mind is racing wondering where the relationship—if indeed it is a relationship—is going. Unable to answer I settle for a smile and shrug my shoulders to indicate that I really didn’t know. It’s funny how sometimes a simple gesture can explain a situation where words simply can’t. I take a mouthful of the paella.

  “Have you screwed him yet?” The paella nearly shoots back out of my mouth and I cough and splutter, dashing to the sink to grab a glass of water. I don’t know why I’m shocked; Jody always cuts right to the chase. I sip some water to calm my choking fit. “Woo hoo.....Angel Nichol’s been laid” she yells as if making an announcement to a pretend audience, and claps her hands together in delight. She can be so gauche at times which is very endearing in a twisted kind of way and I can’t help but laugh. “Come on then—let’s hear all the sordid details” she continues with eager anticipation as she leans forward on the table giving me her full attention. “Has he got a big cock?”

  “Oh Jody—you’re so bad. Let’s just say he wouldn’t be shy in the men’s locker rooms” I blush as I recall Brad’s size and tighten at the memory of how his girth had stretched me when we made love. Jody’s eyes flashed and a devilish grin appeared on her face. Any mention of sex usually resulted in that look.

  “So are you seeing him again?” she continues her inquisition as we both continue eating.

  “We haven’t made any arrangements but I’m sure we will—he’s been texting me all day. Actually he wanted to see me tonight but I refused as I had a better offer” I reply with a wink to inject a bit of humor. “I think that’s why he surprized me in the parking lot.” Jody finished her mouthful of food as she contemplated what I’d just said.

  “Either that or he’s a control freak that didn’t trust you were telling him the truth” I stop chewing and stare at her—my eyes wide as her words ricocheted around inside my head. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Come to think of it, now she’s pointed it out, it was pretty strange that he was there. How did he know I had been working late? Had he been waiting there for a couple of hours? An uneasy feeling begins to take hold of me. A feeling that something wasn’t quite right but I just couldn’t place what it could be.

  “I’m sorry Angel, I didn’t mean to rain on your bonfire. It’s just a lot of these successful rich types tend to be very narcissistic—it seems to come with the territory; and I don’t want to see you hurt again. I know how dominant Brad can be when he sets his mind to someone” Jody softens her tone but it was too late; the seed of doubt had been planted and the cogs in my overactive mind were turning. My mind shoots back to what Brad had said about Jody while I was at his beach house and his insinuation that she knew him more than she was letting on. I decided to question her a bit more deeply to see if I could put my confusions to rest.

  “Just how well do you know Brad? Something he said over the weekend made it sound like you know him better than you say you do” Jody looks down at her paella and begins pushing it around with her fork as she considers her reply and I can sense my question has made her feel uncomfortable. An anger begins to rise inside of me and, frustrated with her lack of response, I bang my fork down onto my plate with a clatter. “What aren’t you telling me Jody” I say in an assertive tone to let her know that I have no intention of letting her wriggle out of this with one of her witty one-liners. It worked. She responds instantly in a sharp tone.

  “Look, I told you most of it the other day—he’s very intense. For some reason he’s set his sights on you and, knowing how he works, it worries me.”

  “What do you mean ‘for some reason’? I know I’m not front page Jody but I’m hardly chopped liver” I instantly fire back. She looks at me in shock and takes a big gulp of wine to steady herself and buy some time while she thinks of a satisfactory reply.

  “I didn’t mean it like that Angel. Look, I’ll cut to the chase. Brad never chases anyone; he doesn’t have to, but he’s chasing you. It’s up to you to work out why. I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t tell you that I’m a bit worried.” We’d known each other for a year now ever since I answered her ad for a flat share and over that time we had become very close. So close that I classed her as one of my closest friends but this was the first time she had seen me like this before.

  “So you think he’s up to something then? But what would he want with me? I’m not a millionaire or some political figure; just a fashion designer. Anyway, where’s this woman that he used to be with—you know, the one he treated like gold?” She pauses and I notice her eyes becoming a little glassy. This subject is really hurting her, she must have been close to this woman, I thought as I sat quietly, listening intently.

  “She fell in love with someone else, he found out but refused to let go. In fact, he got downright obsessive. Brad is fine as long as he’s getting his own way but he was besotted with her. In the end—he had no choice” We sit in silence for a while both reeling from the intensity of our conversation with our paella half eaten and cold. Besotted with another woman? Brad’s twenty six so I didn’t expect that he had never had a relationship before. All the same a sense of insecurity washes over me at the thought of him being with someone else—someone that clearly owned his heart at one time. The insecurity forces me to break the silence first.

  “Where is this woman now?” I repeat as she hadn’t answered that part of my question. Jody inhales deeply, stands up with her plate in her hand and turns to place it in the sink. She stands for a moment facing the window—looking back at her reflection, as if reminiscing.

  “She died” she whispers quietly. There is no sharpness to her voice anymore but I can sense a huge sadness as though this has been something that has affected her deeply. I feel so bad that I have pursued the subject so vigorously now. I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder, and I can see her cheeks have lines of tears on them.

  “I’m so sorry Jody. I had no idea.”

  She doesn’t reply and I hold her to comfort her until her tears stop. I couldn’t have known that this conversation would open so many emotional scars. All the same; I feel bad. Jody was like a sister to me and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.

  Chapter
Five

  I gaze at Brad’s hands as he grips the wheel of his Aston Martin—his long, well manicured fingers resting around it so gracefully. The weeks had flown by and three months had past filled with daytime sexting, the odd mid-week liaison—when I managed to juggle Jody’s attention seeking—and weekends spent at his beach house. Occasionally Brad would come to my apartment in the week when Jody wasn’t there. He never did when Jody was there though—he said he liked it when it was just the two of us; so we could have quality time together. It sounded feasible however I couldn’t help but sense an unsaid tension when it came to Jody and that past events between them were still raw. So, whenever she had plans to stay out all night, Brad would come over to my humble apartment. I’ve tried to keep my emotions guarded after Jody’s warning, but for the life of me I can’t think of a reason that he would be with me other than genuine ones. So, I’ve pushed it to the back of my mind and filed it under ‘Caution.’

  I have begun dreading work as Marlene’s temper becomes shorter and shorter—the pressures of her situation beginning to display cracks in her resolve. Jody and I never mentioned our conversation again however our relationship has altered subtly—as if there is an unspoken boundary that has been crossed and neither of us quite know how to deal with it. The weekends have become precious times for me and when Brad has work commitments that cut them short it leaves a gapping void in my life that aches. But this weekend my crazy, beautiful man has promised that nothing will interrupt our time together. He places a hand on my knee as we make the journey to the beach house and I feel myself tighten as I gaze lovingly at his soft features while he concentrates on the road ahead. We pull into the driveway, as always Valerie opens the door to greet us.

  “Hello Valerie” I sing out, giving her a big, beaming smile.

  “Hello Ms Nichols”—she never calls me Angel despite me asking her to. Brad carries my bag as we sweep into the entrance of the beach house where Valerie has decorated a magnificent tree all in red, gold and green in readiness for Thanksgiving in five days time. I have made plans to go back to Texas and have booked a flight out from LAX on Wednesday, so Brad is making this our own personal Thanksgiving together. I haven’t told my parents about Brad yet although I have referred to him as ‘my friend’ during our weekly phone calls so I think they have a clue that I may be seeing someone. I wanted to leave it a while till I was sure we were officially together which, is an issue that is beginning to bug me. Three months and I haven’t met his mother and step-father yet. In fact, we haven’t even been seen out in public yet apart from the odd person stooping to look into the car as we travelled through LA on route for Manhattan Beach. I am beginning to feel like this is a covert affair but have never tackled the subject with him. The knowledge that he has suffered in the past, losing a woman he loved makes me wonder if that might be the reason. We have talked about our families and our childhoods but he never mentions anything about what Jody has told me. Maybe he isn’t ready—maybe it still hurts him too much. Tonight however, I am determined that I am going to try to clarify our relationship—if he tells me about his loss I will pretend that I didn’t know. Why haven’t I met his parents or any of his friends and why do we always go to his beach house; never to his apartment? The heights of passion that we have shared these last three months have blanked all of these questions out and faded Jody’s words. But recently these questions have been niggling away in the back of my mind and grown in size. They have grown to the point where I can feel old emotional barriers beginning to return—and I can’t allow that to happen.

  “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes Sir” I hear Valerie speak to Brad.

  “Thank you Valerie” he gently replies. He is always so polite to Valerie and George—always remembering to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’—unlike my boss who never ever uttered either.

  “I’ll take your bag up to the bedroom Angel” Brad says kindly and he turns to give me a flashing smile. I follow him upstairs to freshen up before Valerie calls us, staring wantonly at his well-toned muscular butt as he takes the stairs two steps at a time. He carries on towards the bedroom with my bag while I deviate off to the bathroom on the way.

  “Just going to wash my hands for dinner” I call to him as I’m entering the master bathroom. I run the water and begin to lather my hands while inspecting my face in the mirror at the same time.

  “You’re beautiful” a voice comes from behind me and I realize Brad has followed me and is shutting the door with a gleam in his eyes. A gleam that I have become familiar with over the past few months. He strides over towards me and scoops me into his arms; holding me tightly to him.

  “I’m going to miss you” he says burning deep into my eyes with sincerity and he begins to kiss me passionately and deeply—his tongue flicking and circling mine. The headiness his kisses give me is almost uncontrollable but the gray areas of where the relationship is going that are buzzing around my head impart enough will power to pull away.

  “Are you; really?” I reply with an enquiring tone. He frowns and looks at me a little taken a back with my question. A look that is a mixture of confusion and mild annoyance that I would even need to ask such a question.

  “Of course I will. Why on earth would you even ask that? his tone defensive with a pinch of exasperation. I turn back around to face the wash basin and busy myself by wiping the droplets of water away not knowing what I should say next—or if indeed I should say anymore. Perhaps I’m just creating problems where there are none or maybe I’m now worrying that I may sour this almost perfect relationship if I push any further. I can feel by the atmosphere that he won’t let it go and a part of me wishes that I could rewind about two minutes and play the scene differently. He spins me back around to face him and stares deep into my eyes with total focus. He’s just about to speak when there’s a gentle knock on the bathroom door.

  “Excuse me Sir; dinner is served”

  Phew, saved by the knock. I feel a sense of relief wash over me and can physically feel my shoulders lose their tension.

  “Thank you Valerie—we’ll be right down.” “We’ll continue this conversation when we’re alone Angel” he says with a low tone and gently strokes my cheek in a loving and reassuring way that makes me clench inside. “C’mon, we better go and eat” and he takes my hand as we make our way through the beach house to the dining area. Valerie has made an amazing feast. There is turkey with all the trimmings and the table decorations are spectacular. I glance over into the living room and see that the super-sized fire is lit and orange patterns are dancing on the ceiling against the soft flicker of carefully positioned candles. A bowl of eggnog and two small glass cups are on the table in the corner to give a truly romantic setting.

  “Thank you Valerie” we both say in unison, and she smiles with pride at the appreciation of her efforts.

  “Will that be all Sir? The dessert is in the refrigerator as you requested.”

  Brad indicates that everything is fine and that she is now ‘off-duty’ and to go and relax with George. He pulls out my chair for me to sit—he is always such a gentleman and very self assured which I find extremely appealing and—if I’m honest—very arousing. After he has carved some turkey for our plates and dishes up the vegetables from the tureens that Valerie has left on the table; we both begin to eat. I can sense that he feels a little troubled although he is attempting to mask it with his usual upbeat conversation. His eyes give his tension away. His face and mouth smile but his big green eyes look worried. We continue for a while as we always do and as if our brief conversation in the bathroom hadn’t happened. But I know he is waiting for the right break or cue to open the topic up again. We carry on with the wonderful meal that Valerie has prepared. When we finish we move over to the living room. Brad passes me a cup of eggnog and we sit on the faux fur throws in front of the fire. I gaze sleepily at the flames dancing while I sip on the eggnog and relax in the warmth. There is a silence between us for a while and I am aware that I can
see him studying me through the corner of my eye—searching for any clues for why I had asked the question about him missing me earlier.

  Suddenly, he puts his glass cup down by the side of the fire, grabs my hand and looks at me intently as if he can’t bear the facade any longer.

  “About earlier in the bathroom Angel. Why did you question whether I’d miss you?” I squirm a little under the directness of his question and take another sip of eggnog in an attempt to release the tension in my throat. Brad is not one to sugar coat his approach to subjects that he wants answers to, and it could be quite unnerving at times. I try to quell the palpitations I’m feeling and gather my composure while I choose my words carefully. I really don’t want it to sound like an attack or that I am being some moody, high maintenance neurotic.

  “I love our time together Brad, it’s very precious to me, and I feel we’ve grown quite close” I deliver my introduction to smooth the path for the questions I really want to ask. “I just wonder sometimes why we never seem to go out anywhere together” Okay, I’ve started and that’s the hard part over with. Feeling confident and on a roll I decide to continue and sock the question directly to him. “How come we never meet at your apartment, meet your friends or your parents? It’s—it’s just starting to feel a bit like I’m some kind of secret that’s all.” There—it’s out. I tense wondering what kind of reaction I’m going to receive and take my gaze away from the fire to see if I can gauge his reactions. He’s looking intently at me, his eyes are piercing and his face is set. Then he runs a hand through his hair and exhales deeply as if he’s just received a blow that’s knocked the air straight out of him.

  “It’s not you Angel—I’m dying to show you off. It’s just an awkward time for me at the moment. I wish I could tell you more but I can’t just yet—I will though soon; I promise. My mother’s a bit tricky and if I’m honest we have a strained relationship. I really don’t involve her in my personal life—it’s a line I don’t like her crossing.”