“Do you want to talk about last night?” she asks curiously wondering exactly where their sexual encounter leaves them, personally.
“Nope, not right now,” Brandon admits, “Chores need to be done. So let’s go get them done. Git!” He flicks Warlock’s reins to get him moving. The horse moves but at a snail’s pace, irritating Brandon to no end. Clearly, this bet was more beneficial to him last night being able to sample Elise’s supple and luscious body instead of the headache he’s getting this morning. He shakes the memories of their orgasms from his thoughts as they trudge along, sloshing through the mud, to take care of their duties.
The exterior of the Fairchild grounds is a muddy mess while the interior is no shining variance by comparison. Clothes are strewn about and mud is everywhere as Logan tours the house wondering what took place after Brandon sent him home before the storm. Entering the kitchen is an even bigger mess. He shakes his head at the disgustingly filthy trail they left behind. He begins peering out of the window and sees Elise’s car still parked in the driveway. Only now it sits in about five inches of mud.
He watches as Elise and Brandon ride up from the pig pen and return the horses to the stables. Elise limps inside with Brandon not too far behind her. Logan looks back and forth to either of them for an explanation.
Elise throws her hands up in defeat, “I lost a bet! I said it wasn’t going to rain last night and it did which is why the mess and my slightly twisted ankle. I slipped trying to get my, used to be clean, clothes out of the car.”
“Well, when Brandon says it’s going to rain, it is going to rain. But, what the hell happened in here? Lucy is going to kill you guys!”
“No worries,” Elise assures him, “I’ll have the majority of this cleaned up before she even gets here.”
“What Is This!” Lucy screams from the other room, “Who tracked all of this mud all over my floors?!”
The three rush in to greet her. Logan points to Brandon and Elise immediately shifting the blame to them.
“I had nothing to do with it,” Logan shoots out first and then disappears into the house.
Lucy glares at them with a scowl, “Donald is here for you, Mr. Fairchild.”
“Thank you, Lucy. My apologies for the mess, and you can throw that pot out in the kitchen,” he tells her quickly before dashing out of her sight.
“I’m so sorry for the mayhem. This is all my fault,” Elise exclaims, “I’ll help you clean it all up. I promise.”
“You need to clean yourself too, my dear,” Lucy suggests after taking in Elise’s appearance, which is mucky from the morning chores.
“I will, but after this is all cleared away,” Elise smiles as Lucy shrugs her shoulders and heads into the kitchen. Elise can hear the old woman swearing at the mess she and Brandon left in the kitchen. Their sexcapade left them blissfully ignorant to the soup cooking on the stove and subsequently the burning pot. She laughs to herself as thoughts of Brandon moving in and out of her bring a smile to her face while she begins to collect the clothes tossed around the room. Elise gives the floor a once over with the broom and then the mop making sure it was to Lucy’s approval. Afterward she cleans herself up and then heads back to the bedroom to finish up the mural.
Donald happens to stroll by and sees Elise painting the wall. He watches her for a spell as brush strokes coat the wall and create a masterpiece before his very eyes. Yet, what he’s truly attracted to is the curvature of her derriere. Her round, plump cheeks, would sound amazing bouncing up and down off his lap as he slams his cock into her warm, black cunt.
He finds himself standing inside the room as she works when he interrupts her, “I can only imagine what kind of painting we can stroke together.”
“Excuse me,” she turns around to face him. “I’m just going to get back to work here. If you’re in need of an artist please call the gallery and we can arrange a business meeting. Brandon has the number.”
Donald feels insulted by her dismissive attitude, “Well I was hoping to discuss something a bit more personal, unless you’re committed to whatever it is you got going on here.”
“I’m completely committed to Mr. Fairchild and the contract he’s hired me to fulfill,” she indignantly replies.
“I’m sure you are and I’m sure he is too. I mean, look at you,” Donald grins.
“I don’t know what you’re inferring, but my work here is no one’s business but our own. Thank you and please find your own way out so I can get back to my work!”
“That’s okay,” Donald raises his hands as he backs out of the room, “I’m not into the exotic type that much anyway, not really right for a long term thing. You guys are only good for a moment as it is. I just thought it would’ve been fun to roll around on the canvas a bit.”
She rolls her eyes with an expression of disdain, “You know what? You need to leave. You’re beyond offensive and making it extremely difficult to get my job done, here.”
“I don’t have to leave! I’m a good friend to this household and you’re the help! I’ll have a word with Brandon and make sure we won’t see much of you after this job is done!” he spits.
“You had better not lie on my name and disgrace my character! You don’t know me and you don’t know my work ethic! How dare you?! Please reconsider what you’re thinking about doing in soiling my good reputation! You will be devastatingly disappointed with the results!” she fires back at him.
“Who do you think you are?” Donald’s rage blazes.
“Who do you think you are?” Elise can barely control her temper.
The screaming match that ensues is enough to have Brandon and Logan come in to break them up.
“What’s going on in here?” Brandon yells over them.
“Your employee is getting mouthy with me when all I wanted was a private moment of her time. She needs to understand her place, but most of all where she sits on the pay scale! A simple no would have sufficed, but you know how their kind gets.”
“And you’re fucking business partner, friend, or whoever this man is, is in here insulting and offending me. He’s treating me like I’m some creature out there on the farm. Like he has control over whether I stay or go around here. I ain’t the kind of girl he likes! You know voicing my opinion and my right to say NO! I don’t take kindly to that. Now, Mr. Fairchild if he’s going to be a common occurrence there is no possible way I cannot continue to work with you. I’m so appreciative of this opportunity and even the idea of what you may want to offer me in the near future, but if he’s going to be around … I cannot stay here,” Elise throws down her brushes and storms out of the room.
Brandon shoots a look to Logan demanding he follow Elise to stop her from leaving while he pulls Donald to the side. He demands that Donald show some respect for his household and the people working in it. Brandon’s almost certain that the argument is due to some deplorable comment he made. He has never been known for his tact.
“That woman is very important to me. You know whose room this is gonna be! Whether you agree with it or not, she’s necessary to what’s going on here and even possibly future projects with the company. Now if you can’t get with the program, then you ain’t gonna be a part of it,” Brandon flexes his strength as Donald’s boss.
“That black pussy must’ve been good ‘cause this a side of you I ain’t never seen,” Donald remarks with a chuckle.
Brandon slams his hand against the wall beside Donald’s face, “You’re really pushing it here. Don’t be disrespectful in my house. I think you need to go.”
“Okay, alright! Listen, listen, listen … I didn’t know she meant that much. I apologize. And if she’s going to be around, especially for work, I need to make things right. Let me take you two to dinner. I’ll bring Olivia with me and we can go eat or whatever,” Donald offers.
“That should be fine. I guess call me with the details,” Brandon agrees. He walks away in search of Elise letting Donald find his own way out. Donald looks to them sitting on th
e couch just before he leaves. The connection between them is something he’s never seen in Brandon before. He goes on his way without provoking either of them any further.
“I apologize for his behavior and anything he said to you,” Brandon starts.
“I don’t need you to apologize, that’s your friend’s responsibility,” Elise replies.
“Well to make it up to you, he offered to take us to dinner,” he informs her.
“You mean, to make it up to you. I know his type. Chauvinistic, racist, bastard,” she hisses, “He’s lucky we weren’t outside or I’d have tossed him in with the pigs!”
“Easy there girl,” Brandon laughs, “He’s a bit of an asshole sometimes but he’s been loyal to me since we were kids, so he’s gonna be around. However, I do value what we can potentially build together, so if it makes you happy I’ll keep my interactions with him strictly to work functions.”
Elise sighs looking into Brandon’s grey eyes, “No, don’t do that. I don’t want to jeopardize your friendship in any way. I’ll just keep to myself when he’s around or give me a heads up and I’ll stay home.”
“You’re doing too much now. I fixed it and we’re going to dinner with him and his girlfriend,” Brandon asserts. Elise stares at him surprised at the dominance behind his demeanor. She can tell it’s a rarity for people to remain firm in their position once he’s laid down the law.
“Okay, I’ll do dinner and whatever else you tell me to do while I’m under contract,” Elise stands to leave but Brandon holds her back by the wrist.
He looks her in the eyes, her beautiful hazel eyes, “Are you sure about that?”
The sexual tension between them is palpable. Her breathing heavies as memories of last night flash across her mind. The room traps the very essence of when their love story began. She pulls her wrist from his hand and strokes the side of his face, “You are something else, Mr. Fairchild. But you know as well as I do, that I do what I want.”
Elise steals a quick kiss from his lips. She circles her tongue around his before parting ways. Logan walks in just as they separate. He watches Elise sway out of the living room. Clearing his throat gets Brandon’s attention.
“So is everything good?”
“Better than that, Logan. That woman there is someone special. She’s different,” Brandon admits wrapping his arm around his shoulders, “She handles herself with such confidence. She intrigues me. Did you hear how she handled Donald? Last woman he insulted cried and then buried us in a sexual harassment suit so bad, I had to put him on probation. But yes, Elise Saunders intrigues me.”
Logan rolls his eyes. He knows what happens to the women who his boss becomes intrigued with. They usually end up heartbroken. He likes Elise, but what troubles him the most is their mutual friend, Gloria, bent over backwards to get her here. If this relationship blows up, it’s going to ruin a lot more connections than any other of his previous breakups. He just hopes that Brandon knows what he’s doing.
The night of the dinner arrives swiftly as Donald escorts his date into the restaurant and the waitress seats him at his favorite table. Smooth jazz plays over the speaker system, barely audible over the chatter in the steakhouse. Donald and his date, Olivia, sit patiently waiting for Brandon and Elise to arrive.
“So who are we waiting for again?” Olivia asks.
“I told you. My very good friend is into this new woman and I don’t feel like she’s the right one. But I said some things that may have been taken out of context and offered to take them out to dinner to make up for it.”
She looks at him with a hint of confusion, “Well what did you say? And, why don’t you feel like she’s the right one?”
“What I said is irrelevant at this time. Point is, I pissed her off which pissed him off. And she ain’t right for him because she’s different from us,” he confesses.
“What do you mean by different?” Olivia continues to probe so she can understand exactly where Donald went wrong.
“Just let it go, they’re here,” he stands from the table as Brandon and Elise are shown to their seats by the hostess. Elise’s gold dress catches the attention of several men in the restaurant as it clings to her silhouette while Brandon purposely keeps his hand at the small of her back; silently claiming her to all those staring.
Introductions are made and they sit for dinner. They’re half way into dinner when the wine starts to loosen every one up; a little too loose for Donald. Olivia whispers to him that he should slow down and that she doesn’t notice how Elise is different from them. She doesn’t understand why he can’t be supportive of his friend’s new relationship.
“Don’t tell me how to drink my liquor, woman! And she’s different because she’s not a farm girl,” Donald slams his fist on the table shaking the china and utensils. He looks to Brandon but points at Elise with a butter knife, “She’s not a farm girl. You just fuck ‘em and leave ‘em. You don’t marry them!”
“Fucking coons,” Donald mumbles under his breath.
Before Elise or Brandon can address him, Olivia stands up, “I can’t believe you just said that! I’m so embarrassed and disgraced that you even think that way. The ‘them’ you keep referring to happen to be a culture! They are people! She is a human being just like you, Donald! No! She’s a human being better than you scumbag! Don’t you ever call me again! I’m so sorry guys.”
Olivia throws her drink in Donald’s face causing a scene in the dining area for patrons to ogle at. She doesn’t wait for his reaction as she storms off toward the ladies room to straighten herself up before leaving. Elise’s eyes shoot daggers at Donald before she excuses herself and follows the woman to the bathroom.
“I knew he liked to make inappropriate jokes, hell I even laughed at a few. But I thought he was trying to be that offensively funny guy,” Oliva sobs once Elise comes into the bathroom, “I didn’t think that was how he actually was! I didn’t know he truly felt like that! I didn’t know that was the kind of person I was involved with. If he said that at dinner, I can only imagine what he said to piss you guys off in the first place.”
Elise embraces Olivia allowing her to cry out her frustrations. Meanwhile, Brandon sits across from his longtime friend, ashamed to call him so. Donald is furious as he uses the cloth napkins around him to pat the red wine out of his, formerly clean, sky blue shirt.
“I don’t know what to do here,” Brandon admits trying to calm himself, “What the hell is wrong with you Donald? I ain’t never seen you get this way or talk about nobody like that!”
“What are you talking about? Man! You let that black cunt fuck you so good you done forgot how to treat these women! You done forgot how to take a God damn joke and now all of a sudden I can’t make no more nigger jokes. She’s changing you man,” Donald slams his hand on the table again.
“I never liked nor appreciated your humor but overall you’ve been a good friend and a great business man. I think, maybe, it’s time we keep our relationship to just business,” Brandon reveals to Donald.
Donald appears to be hurt but tries again to smooth things over, “Nah, that ain’t it. That girl done worked her voodoo on you and now you’re sprung. You just need a taste of something a little sweeter, a little lighter to rejuvenate those good ole taste buds.”
“Just stop it! You don’t know what kind of relationship Elise and I have but regardless of that she needs to be treated with respect first! She’s a lady and I don’t care if she’s black, brown, beige, purple or green! She’s a beautiful woman with a beautiful soul. Go sober up and get your head on straight,” Brandon advises standing up from the table. He throws a few bills down to cover the dinner and walks away. Luckily for him, Elise is already waiting outside.
“You know this is what it’s gonna be like if we pursue this,” she says quietly.
“You can’t think like that,” he takes her hand into his, “Everybody has an opinion on everything, but the one place their opinions don’t matter is when it comes to matters of the
heart. Now, I ain’t saying I love you or nothing like that, but shouldn’t anybody judge you when they only know what you look like. I can’t believe he lets people hear him talk like that.”
“I believe it. People respect you and care what you think about them. That doesn’t always happen with me. I run into people like Donald all of the time. I feel like there are more people like him than there are people like us,” Elise tears up.
“Maybe you’re right. This is all new for me too. I never expected things to move how they did with us, but here we are. What do you want to do?” Brandon searches her eyes for all of the answers to the questions he’s too scared to ask.
“Right now, I just want to go home,” Elise states, “Would you like to come with me?”
Brandon nods taking her by the hand leading her toward the car. The drive to Elise’s home is quiet as her mind is reeling over Donald’s actions. Brandon must have been okay with his jokes and thoughts about race at some point because Donald wouldn’t feel comfortable speaking so freely. Maybe this isn’t the relationship she wants to be in, especially if this is how it’s starting.
They pull up to a quaint little house on a nice little street. Brandon’s eyes dart up and down the street in search of anything out of the ordinary, or dangerous. In that moment, he realizes he’s being just like Donald. He’s making assumptions about her neighborhood when in reality it’s a lovely area. He bows his head in shame and walks inside just behind Elise. She shows him around her house. The entirety of it can probably fit into his living room. He smiles at the paintings she displays proudly, and at the works in progress propped up in the bedroom she turned into a makeshift studio. He sits down on the sofa and immediately gets a sensation of “home.” There aren’t too many homes that he’s been in where it feels comfortable enough to relax. He enjoys her space. He enjoys her company.
Elise prepares some coffee and tea and sets the tray down in front of Brandon on the couch. He looks at the picture of a kitten on the mug saying, “Hang in There,” and can’t help but laugh. His amusement is contagious as Elise takes the seat next to him.
The Art of Love Page 3