The Cowboy Who Strolled Into Town

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The Cowboy Who Strolled Into Town Page 11

by Riley Moreno


  Andre was an able hand in the kitchen and the meal was good as usual. They were seated at the round mini table that served as a dinner table on the rare occasions when they could eat together. Mary had to remark inwardly that the table looked quite nice, decked with her favorite green table cloth and all but outwardly she stared at Andre with wary eyes, intent like a hawk. This amused Andre in no small measure and Mary could see by his smile that he was enjoying every moment.

  “So you gon’ tell me how things going down at the youth center?” he asked as he chewed on a Brussels sprout.

  “Boy would cut the nonsense and tell me what’s going on?” Mary burst out laughing, “You got the kitchen cleaned and soup tasting all nice. Mom’s favorite spread on the table-I know something’s up and you better start talking”

  “Oh come on be nice” Andre said laughing “I hear old Miss Landry still down there and she still got the place all nice and tidy as she always has since she took over twenty years ago”

  “I tell you Andre you gotta see it to believe it. That woman still firm as a rock and the kids respect her too. She’s an icon now; a part of the fabric of our fair city” Mary replied, as she picked through the food which was plenty she realized.

  “Yeah, that woman deserves the keys to the city. The upside of my head still hurts.” Andre said, “The kids treat you okay?” he continued as he started clearing the table.

  “Nothing I could not handle. I mean there ain’t nobody worse than you when you was their age, and mama used to punish you by sending you over there after school, so nothing I can’t handle. Just tired ‘cus it’s the first day and all”

  Andre, who was at the sink now doing the dishes, laughed at the memories the remark evoked. He clad in a white singlet and grey boxers, Mary could see he had been in the house for a while-a few hours at least. She envied his muscular look and wondered how they could come from the same womb and yet contrast on so many points. She was fairer in complexion while he was dark chocolate all over. She was a bit taller than their mom, but still average for a woman as far as height went. He was a few inches over six. He was all muscle now, but when they were younger it was she who had had all the attention, boys queuing up behind her prominent cleavage, and perfectly rounded behind. Now, she practically had to beat away with a broom the number of women who were queuing up behind her brother!

  Andre noticed her observing him from the table as he crossed over to dry his hands, “Well sis you remember that UNICEF application I told you about?” he asked, “The one about the training program that’ll start in Africa?”

  Mary sat straighter all of a sudden, “Yes, you mean the one I told you to stop dreaming about? Boy you telling me you got taken?!”

  “Yep I sure did! We start next week. Angola first, then who knows where else?”

  “Well ain’t that something?” Mary asked as she quickly went over to give him a hug “Soon as I saw those table cloths I knew you was up to something!”

  She stood back, hands on his shoulders to size him up, just like a mother would, and in many ways she was his mother. In the seven years since their mother died, she had been that anchor for him and he knew it, appreciated it and hoped he would one day look back and say he deserved it. She hugged him again.

  “Oooh look at you! And here I was thinking you had knocked some girl up and was trying to bring the news up nicely”

  ****

  Leander started his work week on Tuesdays. He was not lazy; he just did not like the feeling of compulsion that came with working right after the weekend. He stretched over his soft, rotating leather chair and pushed a button for his secretary, Layla; a Lebanese bombshell he had working for him-what was the use of being filthy rich if you could not have all your wants met?

  She had been waiting for the signal for a few minutes already. The antics her boss employed to show he was in control seemed utterly childish to her. She suspected it was all part of his seductive appeal which from her relatively close vantage point, she could see was pretty meticulously calculated and built. She had been attracted to him instantly when she had started working for him, and she was grateful that he respected the fact that she was married enough to reign in his humongous libido. She could be professional, but she was not sure how long she would hold out against the full glare of his pale azure eyes.

  Leander lay back in his chair to enjoy one of his favorite moments of the day. Characteristically, Layla came in dressed in a dark formal suit over a matching skirt that just stopped at appropriate. Business as usual, she came in with the day’s messages and schedule. He did not know why but there was something about an efficient beautiful woman at work that fascinated him.

  “You have a request for a meet here in the office by one of your card buddies-Alexander Yashin. I already asked the cooks to get the refreshments ready for his arrival. His secretary was very particular about his likes”

  Leander grunted but said nothing. Layla continued sounding off item after item.

  “Your brother Vasiliy sent a message to say that his son will be coming over to spend some time. He promised the details later.”

  At this Leander froze, but just for a second before spinning his chair around to face the room length window that offered an expansive view of the Business district. Layla’s voice quickly faded into the background for a while as he took everything before him.

  He had not heard from is older brother Vasiliy for a long time, and had not seen him for much longer.

  “Prioritize the messages from Vitaliy will you? The others I leave to you to handle as best as you can” he said to Layla.

  “I did not know you had a brother Leander, in fact I never even knew you had a family” Layla wondered as she rose form her seat. “The way you walk around, one would think you swam out of the primordial soup”

  “Ha ha laugh all you can, but if you must know, we Russians are big on family and I do have a darling brother who means the world to me. I probably have not brought him up, because you haven’t asked”

  “Whatever you say boss; I will keep you posted just like you asked but I would also remind you that the phone goes long distance, and you may like to reach out to your “darling brother” yourself for those details he talked about earlier”

  “There you go! I knew you had jokes in you somewhere; now get outta here so I can get some work done”

  When she eased herself out and closed the door, Leander swore under his breath. He had not kept in touch with his family back at home, half as much as he could. It was not his fault, he told himself; he had not really grown with them but he knew this was a lie; he had been almost fourteen when he had relocated to the United States. He mused that the difference in background meant he could not relate very well with them; another lie. The truth was he finally admitted, he was selfish, and really did not think he needed family at all. But this was against everything he had learned growing up as a kid. Where he was from, it bordered on deviant behavior, he thought acidly about himself. He could not explain his behavior but he consoled himself that it was thinking differently that had brought him this far and made him so wealthy.

  But still, he stared apprehensively at the phone that lay on a solitary stool between the leather sofa and the liquor cabinet, at the far corner of the expansive corner office.

  Chapter 3

  Mary sat in the dark, in the old sofa to be found in the tiny, but functional sitting room in her home, and wondered for the umpteenth time why she was not out with someone nice or at the very least having fun all by herself-it’s a weekend for crying out loud she thought.

  Andre had been gone for only a week, and she was already finding his absence unbearable. She knew it was just empty nest syndrome but still…

  A lack of suitors was not the problem at all; beautiful, fully rounded, with full breasts, and a low lying, jeans-filling butt guaranteed to garner attention, she could easily have had the most active social life on the block; but she lacked the enthusiastic drive, she thought with dismay. A
s far as relationships were concerned she was a decided pessimist, and did not see any way that would change in the near future. All the men who came up to her where not able to see past the booty at her true self. What was it with men and ass? She mused in amusement. Maybe her standards were too high she thought.

  Dressed only in her underwear in the dark sitting room, her nightgown laid out neatly on an easy chair, her soft, chocolate brown features were not at all visible in the darkness of the night. She suddenly made up her mind to sleep in the sofa, but not before switching on the telly, thinking that if she could not muster the energy to activate her social life, then she could at least watch others having fun. She zapped straight to the entertainment channel.

  ****

  A few hours later, Mary was awoken by a persistent knocking on the door. Highly irritated and drowsy, she almost forgot to grab her, still folded, nightgown off the easy chair before stumbling sleepily, through the living room, to the door.

  She looked through the spyglass to see who could possibly be at the door at this hour of the night. She was certainly wary of guests who came in this late in the night; this was not a very safe neighborhood, especially with Andre no longer around.

  She was ready to berate anybody she saw on the other side of the door, and she shook her head when she finally was able to see a white, blonde, Caucasian male, barely able to hang on to the doorknob on the other end.

  He knocked again; a little bit more insistent this time. She thought she heard him mumble something like “anytime now…”, but she could not be sure what had been conjured up off that drunken brain on the other end. She hesitated but for a moment, and on hind sight, she was not sure whether it was because of her recent bouts of loneliness or because of the fact that similar scenes had been acted out by her own father, who had been an inveterate drunk, which aroused feelings of empathy, but she opened the door and stood aside.

  A very drunk, very disheveled and very grateful Leander Kolarov stumbled through the doorway, and fell into an untidy heap on the floor.

  ****

  Leander had been a late entry into the family, and had been quite a surprise for his parents who had not been expecting him at all. By the time he was born, he already had two older siblings, Angelina, who was sixteen at the time, and a novice trying to enter a cloistered convent, and Vitaliy, who was fourteen. Six years later, a bump on a slippery road led to a car crash that orphaned them all.

  Vitaliy, in his senior year at the University had had to drop out to take care of his six-year old younger brother. His older sister, who was already a cloistered nun, would not be a problem. He had taken over the family business which by then consisted of a convenience store and had dug deep to keep things afloat. Leander could remember that during his elementary school years his afternoons had been spent reading comics in the family store where Vitaliy could keep an eye on him, and at the same time run the shop. Leander was aware that Vitaliy had carved out a nice middle class existence for himself and his own and of that he was proud. He was also ashamed, for he had barely kept in touch in the past few years.

  Leander had thought about all this when he had heard of Vitaliy’s imminent arrival and had decided to reach out. The phone call had bordered on disaster from the get-go: Firstly, Leander realized, with dismay, but not much surprise that his Russian was faltering. His good-natured brother, who was excited by the call after such a long hiatus kept leaving him behind in dialogue, much to his amusement and Leander’s embarrassment. On top of that, Leander did not even know young Vitaliy’s age; he could have sworn that it was ten, but it turned out the boy was fourteen. Further along, he had hoped to make up for all these shortcomings using the only method he could possibly think of-he had offered his brother money. Vitaliy sr. had not been offended before, but he was offended now; he had not asked for a handout. Leander had apologized, cursing himself for forgetting how much self-esteem his brother had for himself. He apologized again as his brother reminded him of how comfortable he was business wise. Leander would not be put off in his fool hardy pursuit to show how much of a family man he could be, so before he could stop himself, he offered to take young Vitaliy for a year, and not just the holidays. This obviously pleased Vitaliy sr. and the phone call had ended on a high note, despite the sinking feeling in Leander’s belly.

  The call had gone better than he had hoped and he was not going to let the fact he had no experience with kids spoil his joy. Throughout the week however, the feeling of apprehension slowly won over that of elation: who are you trying to kid he asked himself-you’re terrified of children!

  “Come on how had can it be to house a fourteen year old?” the beautiful Layla, had asked him teasingly two days later.

  “Kids need stability, and structure, and discipline and also time.” Leander had said, martini in hand, “All the things I can’t give!”

  Layla had laughed at this “The house looking like fashion week as model after model sidles in and out ah-a teenager’s heaven; you better not mess this up! Or Vitaliy sr. is going to be mad at you!”

  He had taken another swig of his martini as she had laughed in the background, “I can do this-I mean I run a 9 billion dollar empire how hard can a fourteen year old kid be to handle?”

  To this Layla, who had a teenager of her own, had sniggered, “You have no idea”

  The self-doubts had pursued Leander right to the card table the next day, and true to expectations, had translated itself into a very bad game; He had lost almost every hand, to the obvious amusement of his card buddies. In a final show of bravado he had bet his car, believing if he upped the stakes he could up his game. Not long after, he had been left only with the martini at hand. The dealer gave him the bottle.

  Too proud to accept a ride even from Alexander Yashin, he had set off towards the bus station.

  Presently, Leander lay silent in Mary’s bathtub, listening to Mary put away his dirty clothes. He found the warm bath she had drawn for him highly therapeutic, clearing his head, and easing his tensed up muscles. He had been in there for the better part of thirty minutes now, and needless to say, he was still in the bath as much for his embarrassment as he was there for his need.

  He had been sure he was been followed, but now on hindsight, he was not so sure. It could have easily been alley cats or his shadow. He had heard a noise and he had run like hell. Now after the fright came the embarrassment. He had run from shadows straight to a stranger’s house, at 2a.m in the morning!

  “New towel for you” Mary announced, opening the door just for a tiny bit, and tossed something in.

  Leander sank deeper in the tub, the smooth soapy water sloshing over his tipsy frame, and he wishing that these were waves of the ocean about to swallow him and put his cowardly frame out of its misery.

  Mary on her part was undecided about her motives for helping this random stranger. As she went about being as good a Samaritan as she could possibly be that night, she could not silence the loud voice in her head which screamed for the umpteenth time, “What is wrong with you?”

  A few minutes later, Leander emerged, casting an uneasy figure, holding the new, but rather short towel about his waist. Mary was reassured by his embarrassment; it meant he was a regular guy more or less, because regular guys did not find themselves in this kind of situations. The short, barely adequate towel which he had to hold about his slim waist was partly a precaution that would ensure her a precious few seconds to reach the door if he turned out to be dangerous.

  Mary had to admit to herself, however, that precaution was not the only raison d’etre for the towel. Her lonely self after taking one look at Leander’s fine –featured face had succumbed to a very naughty part of her that was becoming less and less easy to control had cooked up the idea of the skimpy towel to see if he had the body to go with that face. Now as Mary took in Leander’s fine chisel chest over his deliciously toned abs, a wave of desired washed over her, hotter than the bath she had prepared for him. As she pretended to be busy in the
dim light of the house, she inwardly marveled at the physical perfection of the man, and wondered what it would feel like to be trapped in a loving embrace by such finely formed arms.

  “Uh-thanks” Leander said, catching the amused look in her eye even in the dim lighting of the room he now stood in. He was inwardly grateful that nature had given him a relatively strong make up, and he had not thrown up on the floor or anything like that given the amount of alcohol he had downed on his “way” here. He observed the rather large woman, full breasted woman walking about in the bedroom before him with only a scanty silk nightgown on. She did not seem like the one to be pushed around, much less clean up after a random stranger.

  “There is a hot plate in the kitchen to help absorb some of that alcohol for you if you would like” she said to him, forming a silhouette between the door posts. The light gave a clear picture of her voluptuous outline in the night gown.

  It all seemed so unreal to him or was it she who seemed unreal, standing in the doorway like that all angel like. Leander felt an excited tingle grow from his head and all the way to the pit of his stomach, and he turned away to hide the growing bulge underneath the towel she had given him.

  “Yes, I would like that very much.” He mumbled.

  Mary did not know that butts came in such perfect shapes and sizes and she had to literally drag herself away from the door post and the titillating view of his firm posterior.

  “Pull yourself together,” Mary hissed at herself as she went to the kitchen, “I can barely recognize this excited schoolgirl persona you are putting on right now I swear”

  A delicious aroma filled the entire kitchen, and Leander needed no directions to find the source. He took a deep breathe just before entering. If it had seemed unreal before, all of a sudden it felt or scented pleasantly real now.

  They both avoided each other’s eyes at the small, round kitchen table, Mary not eating and Leander picking gingerly through the food, aware that she was watching him.

 

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