Angel Over My Shoulder

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Angel Over My Shoulder Page 10

by Pace, Pepper


  She did smile graciously at everyone present which included Derrick and Missy, their girls, Glenn and his third or maybe fourth wife, then there were some of the bakers from various stores, the owner of the supply company that they used for each bakery, and then last was Missy’s mother. There was no boyfriend, no child of her own. But she smiled gracefully and tried to count her blessings instead of her woes.

  After all, she was the owner of three of the most successful bakeries in her city. Glenn had sold them to her as he felt that it was time to do some travelling with his new wife before he got too old to enjoy either. Leslie had kissed him on top of his balding head and thanked him profusely for having faith in her. He blushed, grumbled and then gave her a brief hug and kiss in return.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Leslie smiled. “A year older, that’s what’s wrong.”

  “Wow…you’re old.” Missy joked. Leslie gave her a hug. “Thank you for the party.” Missy glanced at James, one of the bakers.

  “James is cute and I think he likes you.” Leslie glanced at the man. He was sweet, and yes, she knew that he did like her.

  “James is…sweet.”

  Missy laughed. “I guess he ain’t the one, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Who is the right one, Leslie? Does he even exist?”

  Leslie looked at her. “I’m not sure. I used to be, but it’s been so long, I’m not even sure anymore.”

  Chapter 10

  ~2006~

  Leslie stared at the cake. This year it was square; a chocolate cake with raspberry fudge between each of its three layers and a chocolate gonash covering it. White powdered sugar and dusky brown cocoa created an intricate pattern.

  She placed 15 bright red candles on it. Once she lit each she watched it burn for a moment before blowing them out.

  “Fifteen. I can’t believe it has been fifteen years since I’ve seen you.” She closed her eyes. “You think that you are a man, and you can’t stand being told anything. You think about girls all of the time. You listen to music like Radiohead and maybe even some old rap like Run DMC because it’s hip. You probably got your first pair of chucks and are wearing t-shirts with bands like Red Hot Chili Peppers. Have you smoked your first joint, taken your first drink…or do you remember how much you hated when I did that?” She sighed. “Do you even remember me? Are you forming lifelong bonds with…with girls your own age?”

  Leslie cut into the cake, the slice uneven, the gonash tearing. She placed a slice on her plate and began to eat but it would not go down. She finally gagged and spit it into the garbage. She boxed up the remainder of the cake and placed it into her refrigerator. She had spent hours on the cake, but she knew that in a few days she would just end up throwing it away.

  She paced the floor restlessly and then headed to the bathroom of her condo. Her home would sell for three quarters of a million dollars whenever she found a purchaser, and it was still one of the best deals in her city. The agent had told her that she could get a lot more, but she wanted to sale quick.

  Leslie stripped out of her clothes and stared at herself in the mirror. She was thirty-six years old and looked a lot younger than that. Men followed her with their eyes so she guessed that meant that they were attracted to her. Now she wore her hair short and tapered, almost a boy cut.

  Despite the fact that she was a baker; prone to testing out her own products, her body was toned. She wasn’t as small as she had been at one time, but where she had filled out only made her look more mature. Her breasts were full and still fought off gravity and her stomach was still flat even if her hips and ass were bigger.

  Her scars had faded a great deal but the evidence of them would never completely disappear. She remembered how Missy had described them as mysterious and she guessed they were. Some thought she had been in an accident, and men who shared her bed on rare occasions felt the need to show her how they accepted them by running their tongue over them.

  She shivered and thought about a time when Angel’s cock would rise and his body would tremble with need and he would reach over and stroke the crease between her legs and feel for her readiness before rolling over onto her and slipping himself into her depths. And she thought of how she would moan and writhe as he pushed into her body; spreading her, stretching her causing her to yell out in pleasure. And as he learned the sounds of her passion he would quicken his pace and moan loudly his own passion sounds. Thrusting and rocking his cock in and out of her he would finally yell out and his hot semen would spray her insides, mingled with her own natural lubricant, until it poured from her; coating them both in their love.

  Leslie reached out and clutched the sink, crying out in the grips of a climax as the vivid memories faded. Her body continued to drum rhythmically until she finally caught her breath and her heart beat quieted. She stumbled into the shower and allowed the water to wash away the evidence of the memories that her body still retained of her first and last love.

  She slipped on a silk robe and picked up the folder that contained some locations faxed to her by a real estate agent in New York. He had found a great location for her next shop in a small area of Connecticut that was easy to reach. She had wanted to move to Lower Manhattan but he had warned her that due to the rebuild it was no place to start a business.

  So she settled on Bridgeport. She had eventually sold Missy and Derrick the store that Missy had been managing. The remaining two were now being managed by James. When he had learned of her plans he had tried to talk her out of her move. He even leaned in and kissed her passionately.

  “Leslie, please. Stay. You know how I feel about you. I watch you live your life alone…and I do too. I know that I’m no pretty boy like the ones you go out with but no one could ever love and respect you more than I do.”

  Leslie had intertwined her fingers with the older man’s. James was her friend; a good friend but she didn’t want anything more from him then that. Her look told him his answer and he had walked away sadly.

  She needed to get to New York, and that was her only goal. She had three years and she didn’t even know exactly how she was supposed to start this search…three years.

  ~2008~

  She had looked at a map of the Jersey shore and it had been so big. But she had known instantly that this is the place where she and Angel would one day hold hands and stand together. Almost every weekend she would come to Jersey and walk the shore. Sometimes she would rent a little blue umbrella and just sit among the crowd of people and daydream. Other times she would be frantic as her eyes scanned her surroundings for anything familiar. In her memory there had not been any other people, and now she had to picture it devoid of human life which was difficult to do when a three year old was circling your leg as he ran from his older brother.

  Tired, she walked back to her car and drove to the shop. It was Saturday but James would still be there. He had told her that he was going to be working on recipes for most of the day. She had sent for him to help her manage the new store and to get staff trained. He had dropped everything to come.

  ‘James,’ she had said when she picked him up from the airport, ‘You don’t need to worry about getting a place. I have plenty of room. Stay with me while you’re here.’ That night she had climbed into his bed nude. He didn’t seem surprised, just very happy.

  When she got to the shop she let herself in and headed for the kitchen where he was busy mixing ingredients. She stared at the controlled chaos, even his flaming red hair was dusted with flour.

  “Wow. I would have never known that you were so messy.” She said. He gave her a half smile. James was a burly lumber jack of a man. An ex-biker he had long red hair that he kept pulled back at the nape of his neck and beneath a net that he hated. Since he was alone he didn’t wear any head covering; other then the flour.

  “I confess, I’m a pig. I faked being neat by getting one of the kids to keep everything tidy for me. You busted me.” He came over and placed his soft lips on hers. “I th
ought you’d be in Jersey a lot longer.”

  “Mmm…” She lingered into the kiss. “I got bored…and hungry.”

  “For?” He asked seductively.

  She chuckled. “Um food.”

  “Damn.” He smiled. “Well let me get cleaned up and we’ll grab a bite.” She helped him put everything in order and the concoction that he was working on went into the walk in refrigerator.

  “Where to?” He asked as he slid into the driver’s side of the car.

  “Lemongrass. I’m in the mood for Thai.”

  “Sounds good. Which one?”

  “Up for a trip to Manhattan?”

  He chuckled. “Not sure why you didn’t just move to Manhattan as much as you like hanging out there.”

  She smiled and turned on the radio. They argued over whether or not to listen to oldies or jazz. He won when an Eagles song that she liked began playing.

  They got to Lemongrass before the dinner rush but still had a bit of a wait. James rubbed her wrist with his thumb as they walked hand in hand to the restaurant. She sighed in pleasure.

  As they sat on a small bench consulting the menu while they waited for a table, Leslie allowed her hand to trace a trail down his back, along his spine and he shivered and smiled at her. He turned back to the menu and placed his hand around her hip. His fingers snaked beneath her shirt and he stroked the flesh there lightly until she felt herself tremble.

  “How about we get this to go?” He said pressing his lips to her ear.

  “Mmm, sounds like a plan.” They placed their order while discreetly touching. They hurried to the car wondering if the food would get eaten first or last.

  Leslie didn’t see the young man across the street that pushed through the crowd of people rushing to get to their homes. He strained to catch another glimpse of her; he even started across the street before the screech of tires caused him to jump back in the nick of time before he was flattened on the streets.

  He saw her turn around at the sound and he screamed out her name. “Leslie!!!” She turned and slipped into the car with the big red headed man and drove off.

  ~2009~

  She hadn’t been to the Jersey Shore in ages. It seemed crazy to roam along the beach all alone when James was back home waiting for her, or at the shop doing things that she could be helping him with. James had moved in with her permanently and for the first time in her life she was sharing her life with a man. She no longer restlessly roamed the rooms of her house. His larger than life body made her house into a home.

  But now he was flying out and they would be apart for the first time in a year. Her first two stores were suffering a decline in sales. She had been receiving reports that the products were subpar. There was even a comment card complaint from a customer that had been sold a burnt scone. Leslie was appalled. When she was there no one would have ever dared to sell a subpar item; not even at a reduced price!

  James was returning to set some heads rolling and to whip them back into shape. She would join him in a week after she made sure that everything was in order here. Their Connecticut store had quite a following, but not the same popularity as the ones back home.

  She was considering returning home for good. She really missed Derrick and Missy and the girls were teens now! Besides, her reasons for being here seemed cloudy now. She was pushing forty and she was waiting for a boy that she’d never met--one that would be impossible to find; and waiting for him to come of age so that she could resume some fantasy relationship with him.

  Angel had been such a wonderful crutch, but now she was a mature woman that was with a man that fulfilled all of her needs. James loved her, they shared the same interests and he was real. Grimly she made the decision that had been bouncing around her mind for months now; it was time to let Angel go.

  She dropped James off at the airport. “Call me tonight.” She said. He gave her a kiss.

  “I will. Don’t work too hard, beautiful.” He hurried into the terminal and Leslie drove off, not wanting to linger in the crowded drop off point. She sighed wistfully, missing him already.

  Knowing that soon she wouldn’t be able to find Thai as good as they served at Lemongrass, she decided to head there for one last lunch. Alone, she enjoyed her meal and the sushi appetizer, and when she was all paid up, instead of rushing home, she decided to walk around Tribeca. She sure would miss Manhattan and the home that she shared with James.

  She valued their life together, but wasn’t sure if that was love. He had already asked her once to marry him and she had declined. At that time she had not been ready to give up the ghost…

  Her mind wandered as she absently looked at vintage clothes and scarves in a trendy second hand shop. After a moment, she felt as if she was being watched and she looked up into the eyes of a woman who was indeed staring at her. She was about her own age, maybe slightly older. And when Leslie met her eyes, the woman gasped and took a stumbling step back.

  Leslie looked around, wondering if perhaps she was mistaking her for someone else. She had never seen this woman before. Leslie turned away with an uncomfortable shrug. There were too many crazies in Manhattan.

  “Excuse me?”

  Leslie glanced up again, seeing that the woman had approached her.

  “Yes?”

  She didn’t look like a panhandler. She was actually pretty normal looking; a white woman with light hair that was very nearly blonde. She was dressed in nice khaki slacks and a simple blouse covered by a suede jacket. She had been shopping herself. Her hand clutched a shopping bag.

  “Do I know you?” Leslie asked with a frown. She really just wanted to be done with her shopping now and to get home, or maybe even sit down and have a cup of coffee.

  The woman was frowning. “I-is your name Leslie?”

  Leslie stared at her even harder, trying to place her face. “Yes…do I know you?”

  “No.” The woman’s voice had cracked and she seemed pale.

  “Are you okay, Ma’am? How do you know my name?”

  “From my son Alan.”

  “Alan?”

  “I think you know him as Angel.”

  Chapter 11

  Now it was Leslie’s turn to stumble and the woman reached out and actually grabbed her by the arm, keeping her from hitting the floor. Several people turned to look at them and distantly she thought that the woman was stronger then she looked.

  Leslie righted herself and the woman reached down and picked up her dropped items, handing them back to her slowly.

  “I know this will sound crazy,” the woman said slowly. “Oh hell maybe it won’t to you, but can you come back to my house? I know you don’t know me…but I have something that I have to show you. You can follow me in your car…” Even if the need for Leslie to agree hadn’t been so powerfully evident on the woman’s face, Leslie would have still agreed. In fact, she would have followed the woman if she had tried to get away!

  The two women headed out of the shop. “What’s your name?” Leslie asked suddenly.

  She looked at her. She was still too pale and there was a nervous crease between her brows. “Nancy. Nancy Zeigler.”

  There was so much crowding Leslie’s head but she didn’t know what to say, where to start so she followed Leslie to her car and then pointed out her Escalade; big truck needed to make big deliveries.

  Leslie carefully followed Nancy, cursing herself that she hadn’t got a phone number in the event that they got separated. Trying to follow someone in New York traffic was damned difficult. But whenever they got separated Nancy pulled over long enough to for Leslie to catch up.

  Leslie was shaking, she was so nervous. Alan. Alan Ziegler.

 

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