If you were my man

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If you were my man Page 13

by Unknown


  He brought them together again and again, until he felt her quiver, her breath shorten.

  “Rafael,” she cried, her voice shaky and tinged with uncertainty.

  “Let go, sweetheart. I’m here.”

  He quickened the pace, measuring the length of her, loving her. Moments later she stiffened and cried out. Taking her cry into his mouth, he joined her.

  He was unsure how much time passed before he was aware of his surroundings. He lifted his head to stare into her flushed face. He’d never felt such complete passion. Her eyes were closed but the blissful expression on her face, the sweet curve of her lips, reassured him.

  Gathering her into his arms, he rolled over, holding her tightly. There were questions he wanted to ask. He didn’t understand.

  “I’m glad there was more.”

  “This was your first time.” She stiffened in his arms. “Nat, I didn’t mean to pry or embarrass you.”

  “He had health problems. The doctor warned against it,” she whispered.

  “Nat, you don’t owe me an explanation.” He stroked her hair and held her closer. The sun had disappeared. A few of the solar lights flickered on, giving the area a soft romantic glow.

  “It’s all right.” She shrugged, her fingers stroking his back. “It might be hard for you to understand, but the affection and trust we shared was enough. He was a wonderful, funny man. People loved him and he loved people. His one regret was not having children to leave Fontaine to.”

  No matter how selfish it was, he was glad he was the first. “He couldn’t have left it in better hands than yours.”

  Pleased, she lifted her head. “Thank you.”

  “I guess I should help you clean things up, but”—he rolled back on top of her—“I have plans for you.”

  “Good, because I have plans for you, too.”

  Clarice was nervous. She arrived an hour before her shift on Tuesday knowing Jake always came in early. He and Nathalyia were always among the first ones to show up, and the last to leave.

  Jake had his back to her. It was broad, his shoulders muscled. The jeans he favored cupped his prime rear. She rolled her eyes. She must really be in bad shape if she was ogling Jake. He was almost like a big brother. In fact, he was more of a big brother than her two older brothers. She took care of them instead of the other way around. Jake had always taken care of her.

  That might have changed after the other night.

  His shoulders stiffened. Slowly he straightened, turned. His eyes remained hard.

  Undaunted, she smiled at him. She and Jake had butted heads before. No big deal.

  He turned his back on her. Unease crept through her.

  “Good morning, Jake,” she began cheerfully. “I know you’re going to rub it in, but that guy was a bigger jerk than—”

  “I’m busy here.”

  “I didn’t go out with him,” she said, rushing to get it out. She didn’t want to lose Jake’s friendship over a creep like Douglas.

  “What you do on your time is your own business.” He picked up another glass to polish.

  She wasn’t giving up. She tapped him on the shoulder, the way she’d done countless times. “You could give a little while I’m trying to apologize.”

  He faced her again. His eyes were cold and emotionless. “Fontaine opens in less than an hour. Work or clock out and go home.”

  She gasped, firmed her trembling lips. “I won’t beg.”

  “Work or hit the time clock,” he repeated.

  Without a word she turned, stopping a few feet away at the sink to begin washing the lemons and limes.

  Jake turned away before he apologized. How could she keep talking about men to him like he was nothing? Easy. She didn’t see him romantically. Her remark about his face said as much.

  His hand lifted to the scar. He would have bet anything she didn’t see him any differently because of it and he would have lost.

  He kept his back to Clarice. He loved her. He had tried to stop but had just fallen deeper, harder. She was so much fun, laughing, joking. So insecure at times. So she wasn’t skinny. So what? She was intelligent, honest, hardworking, and the prettiest woman with the deepest green eyes he’d ever seen.

  “Hi, Clarice, Jake,” Nathalyia greeted.

  “Hi,” Clarice said. She whacked a lemon with more force than was necessary, sending both halves skittering off the cutting board.

  Nathalyia glanced at a stiff-backed Clarice, then at Jake, and noticed his lips in a hard, flat line. Going around the bar, she picked up her bottle of water.

  Jake finally jerked his troubled gaze from Clarice to Nathalyia. Nathalyia had never seen him look so miserable.

  “Morning.”

  “Do you have time to come to my office?” Nathalyia asked. “Yeah.” Placing the towel on the bar, he followed.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she said as soon as he closed the door.

  Tucking his head, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “No. It’s my fault for letting myself think I had a chance.”

  Nathalyia placed her hand gently on his arm. “I still think there is. I’d be the first to say that when you least expect it, sometimes something wonderful happens.”

  “Be careful, Nathalyia,” Jake warned, lifting his head.

  “Would it surprise you if I said I’m tired of being careful? For once I’d like to throw caution to the wind and just live,” she said.

  “You have Fontaine to consider. You have to remember that,” Jake warned again.

  “I know.” She rounded her desk and took her seat. “Don’t worry, Jake. I realize this won’t last.”

  “But you wish it would,” he said.

  Her head came up. She was unable to keep the truth of his words from showing in her face. “I learned long ago that wishes don’t count.”

  “Yeah. I guess we both did.” He nodded. “I better get back.”

  The phone on her desk rang seconds after the door closed. “Mrs. Fontaine.”

  “I miss you.”

  Nathalyia’s body actually tingled. Her nipples peaked. He hadn’t left until dawn. “I miss you, too.”

  “What do you want to do tonight?” he asked.

  “I think you know the answer to that,” she said, bolder than she ever thought possible.

  “Nat.”

  She loved the way he said her name. She loved everything about him. She straightened as realization hit. She loved him.

  “First, a surprise. Be ready for something special around eight P.M. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Nathalyia hung up the phone with an unsteady hand, then shut her eyes. What had she done? Rafael wasn’t a forever kind of man. He’d told her as much. She should have realized her feelings for him sooner. She wouldn’t have made love with him if she hadn’t cared deeply for him.

  And he could never know she’d fallen in love with him.

  Rafael arrived at Fontaine at 7: 45 P.M. Clarice gave him the clearance so Nathalyia wouldn’t see what he was up to. He and Clarice went into the private dining area and pulled together a floor-to-ceiling partition to create a cozy room. Clarice put a white tablecloth on the table while Rafael placed lit votive candles around the room. On the table, he placed a cut flower arrangement of white roses and white hydrangea.

  “She is going to be so surprised.” Clarice glanced around the room.

  “Thanks for helping me set this up.” He’d wanted to do something special for Nathalyia. She always gave to others. It was time someone did for her.

  “After I bring her in, I’ll give you a few minutes to say hi.” Clarice giggled and continued, “Then I’ll knock and come in with your food. Unless there is an emergency, you won’t be disturbed.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her face looked wistful. “Maybe one day I’ll find a man like you.”

  Before he could comment she left though the sliding door. Obviously she didn’t know Jake liked her. If Rafael wasn’t mistaken, Jake already wanted to be th
at man. He seemed even more annoyed with Rafael than usual. Perhaps Clarice would put a smile on the bartender’s face. Nathalyia had certainly put one on his.

  Rafael looked around the room to ensure he had everything ready. “Music.” He took the mini tape recorder out of his pocket and put the gift-wrapped package by her place setting.

  There was a brief knock and the door slid open. “Clarice, what—”

  “Hi, Nat.”

  She was stunning in a teal-colored knit dress, and made his breath catch. Her beautiful eyes widened with pleasure. Behind her, Clarice closed the door. Taking her arms, he kissed her on the forehead. “I wanted us to have a quiet dinner. I couldn’t think of a better restaurant than Fontaine.”

  She blinked rapidly, then glanced around at the candlelit room and the beautiful flowers on the table. “I’ve never seen the room lovelier.”

  “Please sit down.” He pulled out a chair. When she did as he requested, he handed her a square box. “Open it.”

  Blinking rapidly, she slid the white satin bow off the box. Beneath the tissue was a crystal orchid paperweight. “Rafael, it’s beautiful.”

  “It reminded me of you, graceful, elegant, and beautiful.”

  Rising, she kissed him. A knock sounded on the door.

  “Clarice.” Rafael slid back the door.

  Clarice entered with a tray loaded with food. “Enjoy,” she said, as she quickly set down the food and left.

  Placing the paperweight carefully on the table, Nathalyia smiled up at Rafael. “This is so sweet of you.”

  “Apparently you bring out the best in me,” he quipped.

  Her fingertips leisurely grazed his muscled chest. “We’ll see later tonight.” She took her seat and picked up her napkin.

  Chuckling, he pulled out his chair. “It’s a good thing I’m cool under pressure.” He picked up his glass of iced tea. “tonight.”

  Still smiling, she lifted her strawberry lemonade. “Tonight.”

  Nathalyia sipped her drink and wondered how many nights they had left. Across the table, Rafael winked at her. She smiled despite the fear she felt. She was determined to take it one day at a time and enjoy every incredible moment.

  Two weeks after she and Jake had their disagreement, Clarice barely kept from rolling her eyes as the woman at the end of the bar laughed loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear her. Each time she laughed, she’d flip the atrocious black wig with a red streak on each side, and look around to see who was watching. And every time she did, the thin-faced man at the bar with her would hunch his narrow shoulders deeper into his ill-fitting suit.

  Clarice felt sorry for the man. Not only was the woman loud and obnoxious, she had ordered the most expensive items on the menu, and she’d also had two of Fontaine’s special cocktails. Just one glass of the secret liquor was usually enough to make a person a bit woozy.

  “Gimme another,” the woman ordered.

  “That will be your third,” the man cried, shooting a worried glance at Clarice. “They cost nine dollars each.”

  The woman frowned, sneering at him. “No wonder no woman will go out with you if you’re this cheap.”

  The man, clearly embarrassed, cut his eyes to one side, then looked down at his iced tea. A couple of guys at the bar laughed, whether a coincidence or not, and he seemed to shrink further. He had on a suit, whereas the woman had on a tiny denim skirt and an off-the-shoulder yellow blouse that showed a belly button in a bulging stomach that begged to be covered.

  Clarice picked up the drink Jake placed on the end of the bar. She looked at him. He was still giving her the silent treatment. Two could play that game. Clarice placed the mixed drink in front of the woman and removed the empty glass. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “Key lime pie,” the loud woman answered, reaching for the drink.

  The man’s head came up. She stared at him as if daring him to defy her. “I need to go to the car to get more money.”

  Automatically Clarice glanced over her shoulder at Jake. It didn’t happen often, but diners on occasion had used that excuse to get out of paying. “I hope you plan to come back,” Clarice teased lightly.

  The man flushed and pulled out his worn black leather wallet. He pulled out two twenties and a five. “I’ll pay you.”

  Something about the sincerity of his words convinced her he was telling the truth. “I know. I can tell an honest man when I see one.”

  Sliding from the stool, the man left. His companion sucked on the straw in her drink. “I’m still waiting on my pie.”

  “Your friend might want a dessert as well. I’ll return when he does,” Clarice moved away, checking her watch as she did so.

  Ten minutes passed and the man hadn’t returned. The woman finished off her drink and glanced around. “Where’s the ladies’ room?”

  Clarice nodded her head toward the far back wall. “Through the swinging doors.”

  The woman slid off the stool, pulling her brown imitation leather purse from the hook beneath the bar. “I want my pie waiting for me when I get back.”

  Clarice watched her walk off, then turned to wait on another customer.

  “Watch that one,” Jake said from beside her.

  “Way ahead of you,” Clarice said, forgetting she was annoyed with him. They stared at each other. She wanted to smile, but decided to be as stubborn and as stiff-necked as he was. She turned away to see the woman trying to sneak out, using several women leaving as cover.

  “Runner.” Clarice came around the counter like a shot. She couldn’t tear into Jake like she wanted, but she could and would let the loud woman have it. Not wanting to create a scene, she followed the woman out the front door.

  Clarice wasn’t surprised to find Jake beside her. The woman glanced over her shoulder, saw them, and took off running. Jake sprinted off after the thief.

  Clarice knew she wasn’t in any shape to follow, so she walked to the end of the wooden walkway leading to the parking lot and the beach beyond, positive Jake would catch the woman. Clarice admired the way he moved, easy, graceful. The sand didn’t slow him down as it did the woman.

  Jake kept gaining on her, even when she kicked off her heeled sandals and stuck them in her bag.

  Clarice almost smiled. The woman didn’t have a chance. Jake was in great shape. He caught the runner’s arm. She swung at him with a balled fist and missed. Eyes narrowed, Clarice started for them. She had better not hit Jake. He wouldn’t hit her, but Clarice wouldn’t hesitate. In a matter of seconds, Jake was bringing her back.

  “Let me go,” she said, trying to twist free.

  “I advise you to be quiet,” Clarice told her. “We can handle this internally or call the police.”

  “Why are you after me? He’s the one who didn’t pay.”

  “The money he left more than covered the po’boy and iced tea he had,” Jake said, leading her back.

  “He was my date. He was supposed to pay for everything.”

  “So you felt like you could order anything you wanted,” Clarice said, repugnance in her voice.

  “Sure. He should be lucky I even stayed after seeing him,” the woman sneered. “He lied to me about what he looked like. He was a total loser.”

  Clarice didn’t say anything, but she had little doubt that the woman had done her own fabricating. “You can tell it to the boss.”

  Calculation entered the woman’s dark eyes. “Maybe he and I can work something out.”

  Clarice, who thought she was shockproof after working in the bar for four years, discovered she was wrong. “The man who ran out on you doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

  “At least I can get a date.” Her nose turned up and she gave Clarice a disgusted once-over. “No man in his right mind would look at you.”

  Clarice stopped, ready to tell the woman off, but Jake beat her to it. “Your date just ran off on you. What does that say about you?”

  The woman shot him a dirty look.

  He opened the back d
oor. “The boss takes a dim view of people who dine and dash.”

  Clarice caught up with them in front of Nathalyia’s door. “Yeah, she had the last one arrested.”

  “She?” The woman balked, and began to try to break free. “Let go of me. Help!” she screamed. “Help!”

  Jake frowned. Clarice pulled a handful of napkins from her apron pocket and slapped them over the woman’s mouth.

  The door opened abruptly. “What is going on out here?” Nathalyia asked.

  “We caught this woman leaving without paying her bill,” Clarice said, removing her hand since the woman had stopped struggling.

  Nathalyia stared at the woman who stared back at her. The woman’s snide smile grew.

  “Hello, Nathalyia. Long time, no see.”

  TEN

  Nathalyia was stunned speechless. She hadn’t seen her older sister Theresa in six years. She appeared harder, more wrinkled, and had bags under her calculating black eyes. She still dressed scantily, preferred bad wigs, and, as usual, tried to use people or get over on them.

  “Nathalyia?”

  She jerked her head up and around to see the query in Jake’s face, the questions he was too polite to ask.

  Nathalyia felt her cheeks flame, her hands clench. Ashamed and embarrassed, she fought not to show those emotions; her sister would take full advantage of any perceived weakness. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Throwing Clarice and Jake a smug look, Theresa flipped her hair with a hand loaded with cheap rings and sauntered into Nathalyia’s office.

  Nathalyia closed the door on the puzzled faces of her two most trusted employees and friends. She turned to find Theresa giving her office a once-over, probably calculating how much each item cost.

  Theresa picked up a crystal paperweight and hefted it in her hand. “So, you’re the owner. Looks like our little Nat struck the big-time.”

  Nathalyia’s eyebrow lifted at the word “our.” “I was never a part of the family and we both know it.”

  Theresa carelessly dropped the paperweight on the wooden shelf. “Because you always thought you were better than any of us.”

 

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