by Fifi Flowers
“What happened with your family? You finally told me about them but I get the feeling you never see any of them anymore.” Instantly, I knew that my inquiries weren’t going to involve a pretty story as she moved out of my reach and went to the bathroom. When she returned, she climbed in next to me but not as close as before.
“I was eighteen, in college, and didn’t have the same Spring Break as the Easter holiday so I couldn’t go up to the cabin for the week. My twin brothers were off so they flew in from Boston and Florida and headed up the mountain with my parents to meet my grandmother who was waiting for my grandfather to come up a few days later. When he arrived he was greeted by authorities informing him that there had been an accident on the lake and no one survived.”
“I’m sorry. If I would’ve had a hint that something happened to all of them, I wouldn’t have asked.” Whether she liked it or not, I pulled her up next to my body. I needed to comfort her and, thankfully, she didn’t pull away as she continued with her story.
“I’ve had some time to get used to being alone since my grandfather basically escaped after selling everything from his life at that moment and moving to someplace new. I’m sure that looking at me is a reminder of what he lost and he believed that the accident was all his fault. He had just bought a brand new speedboat for waterskiing and racing around the lake. Apparently, his last words, to my father, his only child, were ‘take her out on the lake for a spin, open her up, and test her power,’ and he did. An investigation revealed that a faulty fuel line caused the boat to explode, which killed all of them instantly.” I felt a tear fall onto my chest and I watched her delicate hand wipe it off.
“So you don’t see your grandfather? What about your mother’s family?” I couldn’t stop myself and part of me wanted to know if I could do anything to take away her pain.
“Not since he made sure that the attorneys delivered life insurance monies to me, which weren’t much… then he took off. I get a Christmas card every year, that’s about it. I heard he remarried and the last card I received was from Aruba, not sure if he has a home-base somewhere or if he just travels. And I have never met anyone from my mother’s side. I have good friends, they are my family now.”
“I’m happy to be your family.” What did I mean by that? Like a brother… okay that might not be the right relationship in light of the fact that we were naked in bed together and we had definitely consummated our bond in a non-brotherly-sisterly way. Thank God for Mitzi’s own set of inquiries that dragged me away from proposing to her right there on the spot to ensure that we remained together. Was that really the reason behind my marriage contemplation?
“You don’t mention your family much either… I didn’t even know that Frank was your cousin. You look nothing like Frank and you don’t look Italian except for your dark eyes.”
“I look like my father. Frank looks like everyone back in Italy, and most of them have light eyes.”
“How is it possible that we know so much about each other but not our family backgrounds? Strange.” I loved the way she tilted her head to the side to look at me. It had me gathering up her hair and pulling her in for a kiss before I continued.
“My father stole my mother away from her family, had me, and traveled the country—even left the country a couple of times to build skyscrapers. When I was old enough to go to school they settled in California and my dad ran up and down the coast during the week to work. Once I graduated and went off to college, they pulled up stakes again, leaving my father’s next in charge to handle his company and they are currently in Italy. He took my mother back to her roots and the rest of the family has pretty much done the same.”
“So we have to go to Italy if you want to introduce me to your parents? Do they have pineapples there?”
Did she want to meet my family? Did I want her to meet my family? Did they have pineapples in Italy? Was she back to thinking about marriage? Her desired aisle lined with gardenia adorned pineapples and yellow rose petals?
“Speaking of juicy things…” I changed the subject as we had already gotten through serious subjects and I was ready for a little fun to lighten the air in the cabin. “Soooo, did you bring along your Special-O lipstick?”
“Never leave home without it.” Mitzi looked at me with a big grin.
“Perfect!” I threw back the covers and jumped off the bed in search of her bag.
“Where are you going?”
“To find your off-limits purse,” I yelled out from her dressing room and ended up laughing as I looked through five different purses that sat in a row. Hitting the jackpot in her biggest bag, I returned dangling a special tube of lipstick in the air announcing, “play time.”
Mitzi didn’t complain once as I pulled the cover from her body and began to explore every inch of her gorgeous body. Circling her pert nipples with the vibrating toy, she moaned and giggled as I slid it down her belly. Tracing the little lipstick lower, she lifted into my hand and I couldn’t help myself, I needed a little taste. “You have juicy lips,” I said as I circled and swiped them with my hungry tongue.
“Oh… yes… oh yeah…” Mitzi was moving into my mouth and crying out.
“I knew you’d be loud in bed. Your moans, sighs…” I murmured against her skin adding to the vibration still accompanying my actions.
“Oh… oh, God, yes… right there… oh…”
“Much better… louder than when I rub your feet.” Fuck! I couldn’t handle her cries anymore, working my body over hers, I captured her mouth, and added to my own pleasure as I found my way deep inside of her. Perfect together, we moved in a harmonized rhythm straight to an orgasmic finish line.
Chapter Nineteen
Mitzi
The Happy Ending Resort lived up to its name during our final vacation days spent wrapped up in each other’s arms. I couldn’t get enough of Jack. I never wanted to get dressed or leave the cabin and begged him to stop dragging me out for walks, hikes, swims and horseshoes. Seriously, I don’t know why he thought we needed to compete with the locals or other guests—had to be his competitive nature. I didn’t mind it when we had a little “let’s see who can come first” race. I had never performed in front of someone before but it proved to be exciting and I didn’t mind that I lost to him. I loved seeing the sexy, yet painful look on his face as he stroked his hard length until he let loose. He said I cheated by not following all the way through but he seemed happy when I suggested that he show me how it was done by demonstrating on my body.
If only we could’ve brought what we had found there back home with us and continued the playfulness that couples shared. Instead, I felt an uneasiness between us that had never been present before taking our friendship all the way to intimacy. Would I change what had happened? No, because it was something that was always on my mind along with what to wear and how to accessorize—always a mystery. Maybe we should’ve talked about what was happening and where it was going prior to returning to our regular life. We could’ve questioned our wants and needs, whether they were realistic or not?
I didn’t expect Jack to fade away into the background of my life. I didn’t think that he would dismiss our passionate exchanges as nothing more than a vacation fling. It could be that I pushed things too quickly and maybe I scared him when we talked about how much fun we were having working and playing naked. Bringing up marriage and him saying no to it, that could be part of the problem, and the solution was to avoid me except when absolutely necessary. I never said no to good times and we could’ve always continued our naughty collaboration in the studio if that was what he wanted. I didn’t really want to be fuck buddies. I’d rather have chalked our vacation up as a fling with lots of happy endings but lacking a forever one. But if that was all that could be, I guess I could’ve rethought my views to make Jack happy.
Then again, we could’ve continued to just be colleagues, partners, collaborators and move on with other people. But there was something going on, so much tension between us when we
were in the same room since we got back and definitely not in a good sexual way. However, I rarely saw him as he had taken on a consulting job in another studio right after our last market week which happened not long after our return.
Just prior to the market events things almost felt like normal and we came up with some great ideas from my sandals sketches done on our trip and his construction modifications that were implemented to make amazing samples to share. I was hopeful that we were moving past the hump in the road—pun intended—or on vacation, and starting fresh or maybe even possibly revisiting that itch that I was willing to scratch again. At least I was giving it thought at night alone in my bed.
“Mitzi, what are you wearing?” My mind ran to all kinds of naughty places thinking that we were about to have phone sex and I was hopeful.
Playing dumb saved me a lot of embarrassment. “You mean right now?” I was sure my voice sounded a little sexy and breathy.
“No, not right now. I meant to the showroom.” Not at all what I expected, I fell silent, defeated, and felt out of sorts. “I know you like us to color coordinate.” Oh yeah, I did and trying to be my normal self, I told him what I planned for the three days. I surprised even myself as I really hadn’t planned anything so I made up stuff and quickly wrote it down so I remembered.
On the first day of market week, the downward spiral of our friendship, as I had once known it, appeared to be accelerating as a new partnership seemed to be forming. While we were working our corner of Lark’s showroom, Jack was lured away by another new designer who made their own line of accessories—she even had fancy flip-flops in her collection. Hearing a few suggestive words about the construction of her cheap and flashy accessories, and she pounced on him. I instantly hated her and her flirty ways as Jack got sucked in to her web and agreed to consult with her about enhancing her wares. I was sure she had other items she wished to show him that had a whole lot of nothing to do with her designs.
I mostly hated how Jack went on and on about her and started being judgmental about me. “Tanya has some good ideas for straps we could learn something. Tanya goes to a place down the way for her fabrics you might check it out. Tanya is thinking about using our manufacturers. Tanya uses a computer board to design with a special pen.” Looking at me differently as if he was examining my clothes, my shoes, my accessories… everything that I had put together and worn into the studio… he hurt me. He never really said anything but he didn’t ask me about my inspiration behind my daily wear. His playful comments were gone and work became work. It made me not want to go to the studio and I found myself cautious around him, totally not myself. I began to hate our partnership. He had to feel the same way too and I waited for the day that he told me that he was moving on… tired of me… tired of designing shoes.
Not that I didn’t find it totally out of the question and I wondered how we had lasted as long as we had. He was a structural engineer, but building is building was always his answer. He boasted happily from day one that deconstructing was his favorite pastime along with checking the mechanics of how things functioned. From day one in the studio we moved into, he had me stepping and marking my feet with washable markers. I actually found myself smiling about the permanent marker incident without thinking about wanting to kill him all over again before he found a last minute solution. Of course Jack would’ve found an answer as he always did and I shouldn’t have been so upset in the first place.
Shaking my head, I continued my assessment of Jack as I sat down at my desk and my computer came to life with photos from our trip flashing on my screen. He must’ve installed them… he was clever, brilliant, beautiful, and so smart. Why he wasted his time with me, I didn’t understand, but our men’s line F & M flip-flops were doing great and he seemed to enjoy changing up the fashion touches as much as improving the wear and tear and comfort of them.
When the day finally arrived, my heart sank as I prepared for the worse when Jack failed to show his face for a full week in the studio. It was true we were in a timeframe that allowed for a little downtime and I should’ve taken that time to shop, pamper myself, and maybe even go off for a few days. But I was so down in the dumps that I thought I just needed to keep working, researching, and looking for new inspiration to sketch. And another reason I turned away from possible fun was that my usual partner in fashionable fun was off cavorting with someone else that had the opposite packaging of me and provided a different stimuli that had her in his grips. Lucky her.
I felt lucky one afternoon, when Jack arrived at his normal time—noon—and suggested one of my favorite places for lunch. It was as if we were our old selves sharing appetizers, entrees, and dessert. My heart beat rapidly when he touched me, when he smiled at me, and then when we got back to our studio, my heart sank.
“Mitzi, we need to talk.” He sounded so serious, I pictured the end.
“I knew it! How long do I have?”
“Long?” He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “How long till what?”
“Two weeks? A month or until we put together our last collection until you leave me for Titty Tanya’s Accessories Collection?” I braced myself for an answer and prayed that I was completely wrong. That I was out of my mind and coming up with illogical things in my head like I sometimes did with my shoe designs thinking only of beauty and not functionality. What would I do without Jack to make everything possible? One last positive thought with closed eyes, I pictured a perfect future where we were back to our partnership and things were functioning as always. What I heard from Jack had my eyes flying open and had me totally uncertain if things would ever or could ever go back to the way they were. And did I even want that anymore? Was his reaction telling me that we were better off moving on even if I desperately wanted him forever? And what was so damn funny?
Chapter Twenty
Jack
I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. That was so not the name of Tanya’s company but she did have huge fake boobs. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I definitely wasn’t leaving Mitzi for her or her company.
“I thought for sure you would leave me to build skyscrapers or something amazing. I know this is not enough for you and… but…”
“Mitzi, hit the couch.” She finally stopped and looked at me. “Now!” With a huff, she turned and headed for the overstuffed cheetah printed sofa she had purchased for the studio not long after we moved in. She found it in an antique warehouse down the street and promised two men on the street a hundred each if they would carry it over and then had me pay them from our petty cash drawer.
Plopped down, not in her usually reclined position for me to massage her feet, I took my spot as always. “Don’t you want a foot rub?” She turned to look at me with sadness all over her face.
“You come in late every day, we don’t have our shared lunches anymore, you’re off at meetings, and you don’t stay late ever… but why her?” Her voice was quiet and she spoke painfully slow.
“Mitzi, lie back and give me your feet.” I really wanted her to lay back so I could do more than take care of her feet but things had gone in a completely different direction than I had imagined. Doing as I told her, I unzipped the back of her sandals, slipped them off her perfectly pedicured feet, and began to attack the tension knotted up in the bottom of them. “You are so tight.”
“I have been trying to work out our shoe collection. Oh…” Her first moan, I’ve missed that. “I’ve gone back through all of your notes and re-design sketched out… oh, right there… plans trying to learn what I need to do on my own for future collections to keep our integrity… oh, yes, Jack.” My pants were starting to snug up a bit until her next set of words shut my guy down. “How much do you want for the Fritzi Mitzi name? A full buy out or payments? You can keep the F & M to design.”
“Woah! Mitzi, I’m not going anywhere. Just the opposite.” I released her feet, ran my fingers through my hair, or mop as she called it, and scrubbed my hand over my stubbled chin. Her assumption
was making things much harder since I had to get her calmed down before I gave her my bit of news. I wanted to start things out on much happier terms. Finding out that she had been acting a bit off and cold because she thought I was leaving her for Tanya made me feel like shit. I could imagine what she had been thinking about me after spending an intimate vacation together, really getting to know each other. I was officially a shit head in her beautiful eyes.
“Mitzi, I just can’t go back to the way things were before our trip.”
“I knew it, you…”
She started to remove her feet from my lap, attempting to sit up, and I held on tight, cutting her off. “Let me finish, please, it’s not what you think.” She relaxed and I continued, “I want to wake up together, to share a bed every night. I want you to leave your apartment and move in with me.”
“But my place is centrally located. I walk to work early on weekdays after the gym.”
“We can have a studio at home with a view. I designed new ghost drafting tables out of lucite like the Louis chairs. They’re see-through, no blocking the view.”
“I love our work chairs.”
“Those are staying. Mitzi, our rent on the studio is month to month right now. Next month they’re asking for a year lease… we can give notice today.”
“The warehouse?” She seemed to have a question to my every answer.
“We don’t go there often and we can schedule remote calls with them. If we need to go in, we can take the Metro line to downtown… and for markets too. We can ship our displays and have the warehouse deliver shoes to the showroom like we do for our market trips.” I waited and watched her tap her chin with her manicured finger.
“Closet space… that could be a real deal breaker.”