by Anna Rudolph
Sonya managed to get Ray back to bed on her own, the wheels on his IV pole clattered noisily the whole way. The poor thing was starting to fall apart, but there wasn’t much point in getting a new one. Once she had him settled and drugged up for his comfort, she pulled a large white box fan from the closet in the hall. Sonya dragged it into the room, plugging it in and clicking it on its lowest setting, hoping to help Ray cool down. Just before he’d fallen asleep, he’d looked up at her, a doped up smile on his face, and said three simple words.
“Don’t chicken out.”
*****
Sonya made her way through the house, past the kitchen and into the tiny laundry room. Maricelle was there, looking plump and darling, and ironing one of Philip’s stiff white shirts. “Hey, Maricelle?” Sonya did her best to steady her voice, but she already sounded shaky and unsure. How was she going to pull this off? Damn it, Ray, she thought.
“Yes, Sonya love?” Maricelle was a sweet, gentle woman. She called everyone ‘love,’ and Sonya thought it was adorable.
“Did you happen to see where Philip went when he came inside?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he went into his study.” Her dark eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Why do you need him?”
“Oh, I just wanted to tell him Ray was inside and asleep. You know, in case he was wondering.”
“Mm-hmm.” Maricelle cocked an eyebrow, her scrutinizing stare cutting into Sonya like a knife through cheese. She continued ironing the shirt with automatic movements. Sonya marvelled at her ability to do it so perfectly without even looking.
“Yeah, so I’ll just be going.” Sonya was desperate to get out from under this woman’s glower.
“Good luck,” Maricelle said smartly, pointedly looking away.
It was as though everyone could pick up on Sonya’s feelings and intentions better than she could, and it left her feeling vulnerable and childish. She turned away, closing the door to laundry room behind her as she hurried out. She stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water. If she was really going to do this, if she was really going to make a move on her boss, then she didn’t want to be going into it any more nervous than was necessary. She drained the glass in a few gulps, but her mouth still felt dry.
Ready as she would ever be, Sonya marched down the hall to Philip’s office with her head held high, hoping her forced confidence would start to feel more natural. She rapped twice on the door before pushing it open. Immediately, she regretted barging in.
Philip was sat behind his desk in a tall, luxuriant office chair. He leaned forward onto his expansive desk, one elbow propped up on what looked to be mahogany. He held his slim silver phone to his ear and his face was dark with contempt; his fiery gaze bore into Sonya. He lifted one aggressive finger. She was unsure whether he was silencing her or asking for a moment, so she stood paralyzed in the doorway. Whoever was on the other end of the phone was speaking quickly, Philip’s angry brows dipped deeper.
“Well,” he snapped. “My dying father’s caregiver is standing in my office, so I’m going to go see what this is about. I expect you to have this remedied by this evening. Keep me updated by email only.” Without waiting for a response, he slowly brought the phone down, and jabbed the red button to end the call with his thumb. Sonya’s heart hammered in her chest. She hadn’t meant to upset Philip, and his reference to her only as his father’s caregiver had definitely shaken any self-esteem she’d built up on the way there. She really was a member of his staff. She moved to apologized for interrupting, taking a step back, and beginning to pull the door closed, and Philip laughed.
The sound was so unexpected that she stopped, casting a curious glance his way. His stony demeanor crumpled, a smile cracking his glower. His hard eyes softened and shone, his posture relaxed.
“Sonya, I’m so sorry about that.” He chuckled and she felt her nerves slowly begin to loosen up. “I have been avoiding that call for days and have been trying to get off of it for over an hour.” He slumped forward onto both elbows, head in his hands in playful exasperation. He rubbed his face hard and shook his hair as though shaking off his frustration. Once he’d pulled himself together, he gave Sonya an easy grin that melted her a little. “Sorry. What’s up?”
“Oh, I just wanted to let you know Ray’s back inside and asleep. Probably will be for a few hours. So, if you have anything you need to do-” She was cut off.
“Damn.” He seemed genuinely upset. “I really wanted to spend more time outside. How is he?”
Sonya hesitated a moment, then asked, “Honestly?”
Philip looked up at her, his easygoing face crumpled just a little. He nodded in recognition of her implication. He didn’t want the details spelled out any more than she wanted to spell them, they both knew it wasn’t good. Almost a week had passed since the doctor had made his short prognosis.
“Well, thank you for coming to tell me.” He smiled at her again. She thought maybe she caught a hint of mutual attraction in his eyes.
That tiny glint emboldened her, she stood up straight. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something, Philip.”
He cocked an intrigued eyebrow, and every ounce of confidence she’d had when she asked flooded away. Her heart pounded, a giant swarm of butterflies suddenly came to life in her core. The pause was becoming awkwardly long. She tried to come up with something, anything, to ask him instead. Nothing came. She took a quick deep breath, hoping to appear composed as she said, “I was actually wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.” As she said the words, she could practically feel herself stepping over the line. This was so inappropriate, her stomach suddenly flooded with heavy doubt.
Surprise played across Philip’s features, his gorgeous lips turning up at the corners. “Are you asking me on a date?” He sounded bewildered.
“Yes,” Sonya squeaked, fearing he was about to laugh in her face.
“I, well, yeah,” he stuttered. “I’d love to.”
Relief coursed through Sonya, the dissipated pressure left her feeling light-headed.
“I was thinking maybe tonight? Only if that works for you. Obviously I can’t leave Ray so we’d have to, um, eat here, maybe in the dining room?” She was rambling and had no idea how to stop her mouth from running. Thankfully, he stopped her, laughing gently at her nervous animation.
“Tonight sounds great. I’ll call Ferne and set something up. Did you have a time in mind? What time does Ray usually fall asleep?”
“Last night he didn’t make it much past seven. I was thinking we could do eight?”
“In that case, I will definitely see you at eight.”
Sonya left the room in a daze. She hadn’t honestly expected herself to go through with it. Yet here she was, with a date. The first she’d had since she’d started working for Philip. No, she realized, it had been before that.
Her last date had been a bit of a bomb, a blind date Allie had set her up on. His name was Jebb; Allie had insisted he was hot enough to make up for the dweeby name. He had been a looker alright, until Sonya had caught sight of a balding patch on the back his head. She wasn’t shallow enough to ditch a guy just because of a few hair growth issues, but after an hour of stale, humorless conversation, she’d called it a night. She never actively disliked dating the way some single women her age did, she just never seemed to find someone she’d actually go out of her way to spend the evening with. Until now.
*****
“Oh my god, WHAT?!” Allie’s squeal was deafening.
“Philip and I are having dinner, it’s no big deal.” Sonya’s tone was even and nonchalant, but inside she was screaming. “Besides, it’s not like we can leave Ray. We’re gonna be, like, fifteen feet down the hall.”
Allie squealed some more, and Sonya pulled the phone away from her ear until she stopped. “Allie!” she shouted, exasperated. She was jumpy with nerves.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe you’re going on a date! It’s only been what, li
ke a million years?”
“Ha ha,” Sonya deadpanned. “That’s actually why I called you, I’m pretty nervous.”
“Well, yeah, he’s gorgeous,” Allie drawled dreamily. “What are you wearing? That purple dress?”
“You think I should?” Sonya sounded unsure; she could see the slinky piece of fabric hung up in her closet. It wasn’t like she had a lot of options.
“Yes! Totally. Now you just have to remember: brush your teeth, shave your legs, sit up straight, chew with your mouth closed. And always swallow.”
Allie’s dirty joke made Sonya blush and giggle like a teenager. “You’re disgusting. I’m hanging up now.”
“You better call me tomorr-” Sonya ended the call before Allie could finish.
She tossed the phone away and hopped in the steamy shower. She ran a hand up her shin. Allie was right, she did need to shave. While she lathered herself under the spray, she thought over the strange events of the day.
Ray had woken from his nap not long after Sonya finished with Philip. She’d cared for him and entertained him most of the afternoon. Seven o'clock rolled around before Sonya knew it, and Ray had finally asked why she kept checking the clock. She’d managed to keep a lid on her little secret until now but was happy to finally share. It had been reverberating around in her all day. Once she’d told Ray, he’d said, “Well, what are you bothering with my old ass for? Drug me up and go get ready!”
So. Here we are, Sonya thought. They had agreed to meet at eight, and it was seven-thirty when Sonya finished in the shower.
She rubbed a rich lotion into her skin, the lovely jasmine scented butter made her chocolate skin glow. The makeup she applied was modest; enough powder to even out her naturally clear skin, a dusting of plum shadow that brought out the emerald in her eyes, a quick swipe of mascara. Sonya almost felt silly with the makeup on, it had been so long since she'd worn any. She let her braids hang loose and long, the tightly woven hair swishing around her waist. When it came time to dress herself she laid the dress Allie had suggested on the bed. She dug through her underwear drawer, wondering if she was being too presumptuous in looking for one of her nicer bra and panty sets. He's not even going to see them, she reminded herself, still firmly in denial that he could possibly be taking this seriously.
She decided to go with classic black, a frilly thong and silky push-up bra accentuated with matching lace. Once she'd slipped into her lingerie, she checked herself out in the full-length mirror hung on the bathroom door. Her full, perky C-cups generously filled the cups, a lovely line of cleavage highlighting their shape. The lacey underwear hugged the generous curve of her backside, the high cut flattering her long legs. She’d been worried that her sedentary time with Ray would have her bulging out of the tight panties and was relieved to find she looked just fine. She wrestled with the hanger to release her dress before pulling it on over her head. The stretchy, soft fabric fell in a familiar way over her curves. She yanked on a pair of black patent leather slingbacks she’d found in the closet and fastened her mother’s princess cut diamond studs into her ears.
Go get him, tiger, she said to her reflection. Sonya strode out of the room and tried to shed her trepidations.
Chapter 6
The clicks of Sonya’s heels on the hardwood floor echoed off the high walls. With each step, she became more sure of her stride; walking in heels wasn’t as easy as she remembered, but she pulled it off beautifully. She focused on her breath, hoping to calm the nervous flutters in her stomach.
Philip watched her as she entered the spacious dining room. She was so graceful, seemed so sure of herself. Her high posture showcased her excellent figure; she was entrancing in the airy, concord fabric. The warm violet brought out the pink in her cheeks as she met his eyes with a bashful smile. She really has no idea how lovely she is, he thought, inhaling hard in hopes of regaining the breath she’d stolen from him.
Sonya made her way to the table. Its vast length was empty and imposing. The set up for two on the end looked almost comical. Three gleaming platinum candlesticks held long wax tapers of different heights. The flames swayed gracefully, their lights winking off the intricately laid silverware. Someone had arranged a bouquet in a simple brushed silver vase. Sonya wondered if anyone had known that peonies were her favorite. The peach colored blooms let off a sweet, fresh smell. And of course there was Philip.
Ever the gentleman, he rose to pull out her chair as she approached. He looked incredible in a pair of dark trouser jeans and a crimson silk shirt that set off his chestnut hair. His movements were frantic and jerky, his eyes wide as he took her in. Sonya couldn’t believe she had this effect on someone like him and couldn’t help but blush. At least she wasn’t the only one that was nervous.
Once her chair was tucked back in, he moved awkwardly around the table and folded his long frame back into his seat. A bottle of wine was tucked behind the flowers/ Philip snuck it out with a wine key and quickly, expertly uncorked it. He snatched the rounded crystal glass in front of Sonya and began pouring in the rich, garnet liquid. He stopped suddenly, “You like red?” he asked, suddenly nervous.
She laughed gently, “Yes, Philip, red is totally fine.” She hoped the wine would help him loosen up.
He smiled, seeming to notice how silly and off he was being. He poured her a generous glass and passed it to her. “M’lady,” he joked.
She smiled and thanked him as he filled his own glass.
He held up his wine for a toast and Sonya raised hers as well. “To Ray,” he said and her heart warmed. “And to finally using this ridiculous table.” They both laughed, any ice between them had been suitably broken.
“Have you really never used this table?” she asked, sipping the aromatic drink. It was easily the best wine she had ever had, she needed to be careful.
“I don’t know maybe… once?” he replied. “When I bought the house, I really thought I would spend a lot more time here. I had all these grandiose notions of fancy dinner parties and benefits and all that fancy stuff you see rich people do in the movies.” He looked wistfully down the length of the smooth, black wood cut through with glass. He shrugged. “Guess it just never really happened.”
Sonya was flattered to know that he didn’t regularly romance women here. “How long have you lived here?”
They chatted amicably for several minutes. Philip had bought the house about five years ago, the socially elite couple that had owned it before sold it after a nasty divorce. His girlfriend at the time had advised against it saying the divorce cursed their ‘home.’ She hadn’t lasted long after that. Philip said he didn’t believe in the curse but also didn’t believe in his future with her. He kept nervously gulping down wine and explained that he really didn’t date that often, couldn’t find the time or worthy company. When he said it, he smiled at Sonya in a way that made her insides flutter. When asked about her romantic life, Sonya didn’t have much to tell. She’d been a bit of a flirt in college, but in her twenty nine years of life, she hadn’t managed to find that ‘great love’ and she wasn’t bitter about it, which Philip admired. Rare to find a single woman her age with no baggage and no audibly ticking biological clock.
The conversation was so easy and pleasant, Philip was almost disappointed when Ferne made his noisy way out of the kitchen. Subtlety was a concept that generally seemed lost on the eccentric young man, but he had out done himself tonight. He carried a tray in each hand, both topped with silver domes. Philip had no idea where he had gotten them, but he had to admit, it was a nice touch. Ferne looked ridiculous, dressed as he was in a metallic gold vest and matching bow tie. His big, fancy hair looked even bigger and fancier than usual, swept back from his wide forehead in a great flourish. He affected the manner of a snooty waiter, and Philip watched Sonya giggle. The sound of her laugh was so pleasant, like a tinkling of little bells.
Ferne came up short when he saw Sonya. “Oh! Philip, er, I mean, Mr. Jones,” he looked apologetically at his boss who smiled and sh
ook his head, “told me he was having company, but I didn’t know it was you, Sonya!” The surprise and embarrassment on his face quickly vanished as he slid the trays in front of them, jostling some silverware in the process. He removed the lids, releasing a heady aroma that made Philip’s mouth water. Had he remembered to eat lunch? He couldn’t remember, but he was ravenous. Ferne cleared his throat dramatically and then announced, “Here we have two lovely filet mignon cuts drizzled with a rich béarnaise sauce, accompanied by Yukon gold and sweet potato medley, oven roasted to perfection.” He took a bow, then kissed his fingers and proceeded to insult the entire French culture with a crude butchering of “Bon appétit!”
As he made his way out of the room, Philip caught him shooting Sonya a sly smile that she returned. She inhaled deeply, a pleased expression played across her face. Philip loved the way her lips curved and tried to banish thoughts of other ways he’d like to please her. And things he would love to do to those full, perfect lips.
“Ferne’s such a riot,” she said, breaking the silence following the chef’s departure. “How did you find him?” She arranged her cloth napkin delicately in her lap and grabbed her silverware. She tried not to make it too impolitely obvious how eager and hungry she was.
“I went to a fundraiser for the culinary school he attended. He was still a sophomore I think, but he made these crab cakes that were being served to the party and I swear I ate about a hundred of them. They were so damn good. He happened to be there and I offered him a job on the spot. His hair was a little less dramatic back then.” Philip smiled as he spoke and reminisced. He cut away a small strip and raised it to his mouth. The tender meat felt like it was melting in his mouth, the rich flavor was overwhelming. Hiring Ferne had never been a decision Philip had questioned.
Sonya stacked a cube of a yellow potato on top of an orangey sweet potato morsel and dug in. The salty sweet mixture was underscored with a slight spicy kick and she gave a little pleasured moan that caused Philip to shift slightly in his seat. “Crab cakes, huh?”