Who Said It Would Be Easy?

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Who Said It Would Be Easy? Page 11

by Cheryl Faye


  “Yeah, but if it turns out this is all just my fantasy and she’s not interested in being anything more than my buddy…what then?”

  “Listen, don’t speculate on what might or might not happen. Just take it one day at a time. And you know anytime you need to talk about it, I’m here.”

  “Yeah, I know, Dub. Thanks.”

  “So, listen, I’ll see you at Dre’s.”

  “A’ight. Peace out,” said Stefàn.

  “Peace.”

  CHAPTER 10

  POOL PARTY ANIMAL,

  ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!

  Charisse and Myra arrived at Stefàn’s house at a few minutes after three that Saturday afternoon.

  “Nice house,” Myra off-handedly stated as they pulled up. “You been inside?”

  “Yeah, when we went riding last weekend, remember? I picked him up,” Charisse reminded her.

  “That’s his car?” Myra asked with a sideways glance as they walked past the freshly washed BMW parked in the driveway.

  “Yup.”

  “Humph,” she huffed.

  “Be nice, now,” Charisse scolded.

  “What?” she asked innocently.

  All too aware of Myra’s blatant displeasure regarding her attraction to Stefàn, Charisse wanted Myra to see what she had learned about him—that he wasn’t as bad a guy as she had originally assumed. That was the main reason she had wanted Myra to come with them today. She also acknowledged that having Myra by her side—along with all of her skepticism—would help keep her own vision a little clearer. However, she didn’t want Stefàn to pick up on Myra’s distrust so before ringing the doorbell, Charisse cautioned, “Now Myra, I don’t want you going in there startin’ no stuff with him.”

  She folded her arms indignantly. “I’m not going to be starting anything.”

  “No, but we both know you have a way of making these little biting remarks.”

  “Oh, and you don’t?” Myra said as she looked up at Charisse over the top of her shades.

  “Yeah, but he’s used to my smart mouth,” she said with a smile, then rang the bell.

  Stefàn opened the door a few seconds later. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “Hi, Stefàn,” Charisse cooed with an affectionate smile. “You remember my girlfriend, Myra, don’t you?”

  “Of course. How are you, Myra?” He offered his hand.

  Myra shook it. “I’m fine, thanks. How’re you?”

  “Great.” Appreciative eyes turned back to Charisse. Stefàn thought she looked angelic in her gauzy white sundress and sandals. “And how are you, gorgeous?”

  With a blush, she answered, “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Come on in,” he offered.

  As Charisse and Myra entered his house, he asked, “Did you remember to bring your bathing suits?”

  “Of course. It’s a pool party, right?” Charisse replied.

  “Just checking.”

  Stefàn’s living room was a large, airy space with a bay window accented by ivory vertical blinds that were currently positioned so the sunlight streamed into the room, bathing the numerous leafy green plants situated there. His furniture was purely masculine in flavor but tastefully laid out. His color scheme was earthy, with rich brown, tan and cream hues. Cherry coffee, end tables and bookcases complemented the lush leather seating arrangement. A connoisseur of fine art, several eye-catching pieces were hung on the walls, rounding out the decor.

  “You’ve got a nice place.”

  “Thank you, Myra,” he replied magnanimously.

  Sporting summer weight cream linen pants and a matching short sleeved shirt, Stefàn also wore light brown leather sandals and looked as good as he did comfortable. Charisse considered telling him her thoughts but refrained for the sake of his ego.

  “Is your friend, Julian, going to be there?” Charisse asked.

  “Yeah, he’s coming. So listen, do you want to follow me, or do you want to leave your car here and ride with me?”

  Charisse smiled affably and said, “Nothing personal, but.…”

  “That’s okay, I was just kidding anyway. And believe me, I’d feel the same way,” he said with an engaging smile. “We can pull out whenever you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready. You ready, Myra?” Charisse asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Which way are we going?”

  “Down the turnpike, to exit nine. If you get there before me in your speed buggy, wait for me, will ya’?”

  Charisse laughed heartily. “I’m not going to leave you in my dust.”

  “So you say, but I’ve seen you drive, remember?” he responded as he picked up his keys and wallet from the console table against the wall.

  “I don’t know where we’re going.”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure you know how to get to exit nine.”

  “I’m going to follow you,” she said innocently. Before Stefàn could get another word out, Charisse added, “As long as you don’t drive too slow.”

  About forty-five minutes later, Charisse followed Stefàn into the expansive cul-de-sac that encompassed a stately Colonial home in North Brunswick where several cars were already parked. The front of the house was beautifully landscaped with blossoms of varying colors and some of the most lush green trees and shrubbery she had ever seen in a private residence. The lawn, which wrapped around on both sides of the house to the back, looked rich and naturally plush.

  “Whoa! So who is it that lives here?” Myra asked Charisse as she gaped at the house in awe.

  “I don’t know. One of Stefàn’s friends. Nice, huh?”

  “To put it mildly.”

  As Charisse and Myra stepped out of the Corvette, Julian pulled up behind them in a dark green Volvo S70. He quickly opened his door and jumped out. “Woo-wee! Now that’s a fly ride. Can I borrow it?”

  Recognizing Stefàn’s handsome buddy, Charisse laughed as she said, “Sure, in about ten years.”

  Myra, along with Julian’s lady friend, who had just stepped out of the Volvo, laughed.

  “Damn, girl,” Julian reverently exclaimed as he walked up to it and lovingly caressed the vehicle’s body. “Damn!”

  “Hi, I’m Charisse,” she said in greeting to Julian’s companion.

  “I’m Robin. How are you?”

  The women shook hands.

  “I’m sorry, I got a little caught up,” Julian said when he noticed that they had introduced themselves.

  “That’s okay,” they chorused.

  Introductions were then made between Myra and Robin and greetings exchanged as Stefàn walked back to where they were all congregated around Charisse’s Corvette.

  “Charisse, this is a beautiful car,” Julian said in sincere admiration.

  “I know,” she answered with a smug smile.

  “Did you just get this?” Robin asked.

  “Yes. It was my birthday present to myself,” Charisse told her.

  “I heard that! Congratulations!” Robin enthusiastically offered.

  “Thank you,” Charisse replied with a warm smile.

  “How’s she handle?” Julian asked.

  “Like a dream,” Stefàn answered.

  “Nobody asked you!” Julian said with a playful smirk.

  “Don’t playa hate, man. It doesn’t become you.”

  “You’ve driven it?” Robin asked incredulously.

  “Of course.” Stefàn put an arm around Charisse’s shoulder. “My girl let me drive it the night she picked it up.”

  “Stop bragging,” Julian said.

  “Stop hatin’, Dub,” Stefàn scolded with a shake of his finger.

  The girls laughed.

  “Why’d you let him drive this baby, Charisse?” Julian asked.

  “’Cause he’s my buddy,” she answered as she put her arm around his waist and snuggled closer to him.

  Stefàn had a smug look on his face, but was thinking, I wish I could keep you snuggled next to me like this for the rest of the day.

 
Julian then asked, “Has she let you drive it, Myra?”

  “No, but I don’t know how to drive.”

  “Oh, well, I probably wouldn’t let you drive mine, either, then,” he quipped.

  Everyone laughed.

  “No, but seriously, this is beautiful. Congratulations, Charisse. Enjoy it.”

  “Thanks, Julian,” she said warmly.

  “Hey, let’s go on back. It sounds like there’s a party going on,” Stefàn stated.

  “Lead the way,” said Charisse.

  Several people were already in attendance in the enormous backyard of the magnificent home. Charisse immediately zeroed in on the kidney-shaped in-ground swimming pool at the center of the expansive yard. With the temperature being what it was, she couldn’t wait to jump into it. Guests wearing swim suits and/or street clothes lounged comfortably or stood around talking, laughing, eating, drinking and apparently having an all-around good time. Mary J. Blige’s latest hit rocked from speakers that were unseen, and a buffet table on the deck directly outside the back door of the house was laden with what looked like a wide array of foods. In two separate areas of the yard were attended bars that had lines in front of them as partygoers waited to be served.

  Soon after their arrival, Stefàn and his group were greeted by their host and hostess, Andre and Marsha Williams, an extremely attractive and statuesque couple in their early fifties. The Williamses, both dressed in white linen, were quite stylish, gracious and effortlessly engaging. Charisse liked them right off. After exchanging introductions and cordialities, Marsha went about making sure they all knew where to change for the pool, satisfy their palettes and quench their thirsts. Additionally, she pointed out to the girls that there was an abundance of single male guests for their viewing and wooing pleasure, much to Stefàn’s and Julian’s chagrin. When Charisse complimented the couple on their fabulous residence, Marsha informed her that Stefàn was their realtor. Impressed by that information, Charisse noticed Stefàn blush at Marsha’s revelation, prompting a bit of teasing from Marsha and Charisse until Andre came to his rescue.

  Fifty minutes after their arrival, Charisse, Myra and Robin had all changed into their swimsuits and had made themselves comfortable in the lounge chairs alongside the pool. They sipped beverages as they perused and exchanged opinions about the numerous and varied attractive, and like Marsha had stated, apparently single male guests.

  Since Stefàn and Julian were acquainted with many of the party-goers present, they had spent a good bit of time since their arrival, mingling. Charisse, in particular, made note of the many different women who flirtatiously greeted Stefàn. She also noticed his pleasure with the attention these women paid him. To her it seemed as if they were drawn to him by some strange, erotic, pheromonal mist. She tried hard to ignore him and focus her attention elsewhere, but like a needle to the northern-most point on a compass, her pupils repeatedly returned to him. To her dismay, there was usually a woman nearby, clinging to him like she was his Siamese twin.

  Suddenly, Charisse rose from her chair.

  “Where you going?” Myra asked.

  “To take a dip.”

  The micro-mini white cover-up she had donned over her bathing suit was removed without circumstance, revealing a shimmering gold maillot that dipped very low in back and was accented by sheer finely-woven gold mesh across the waistline in front. As she moved toward the diving board, numerous pairs of eyes, male and female alike, followed her sure-footed stride. It was hard to ignore her feminine allure even though her suit only exposed her back and a minimal amount of cleavage, but her hourglass figure struck envy in the hearts of several women present, and desire in even more men.

  Stefàn, who at the time was in the midst of a conversation with another female guest, noticed Charisse, too, as she moved to the side of the pool. Her appearance in the gold suit—which actually reflected the rays of the sun—struck him speechless, and he completely lost his train of thought.

  Quickly dismissing their dialogue as irrelevant, he stated, “Excuse me. I’ve gotta do something,” and summarily turned away from the woman without another word.

  As Charisse stepped onto the diving board and prepared to take the plunge, a man approached and asked, “Are you taking prisoners?”

  She acted as though she hadn’t heard him and skillfully dove into the pool.

  In the meantime, Stefàn had made his way to where Robin and Myra were still seated and hurriedly proceeded to remove his shirt and pants, carelessly tossing each onto the lounger Charisse had just vacated.

  In a teasing manner, Robin asked, “What’s the matter, Coop? Did somebody light a fire under your butt?”

  “Did you see that suit she has on?” he asked as he nodded in Charisse’s direction.

  “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?” Robin said as she continued to taunt him.

  “Myra, how could you let her come out in something like that?” he teasingly asked.

  “Excuse me, but Charisse is a grown woman. A grown, single woman, and she can pretty much do what she likes. Just like you!”

  Stefàn was surprised by the antagonism in her tone but gave it little thought at the time, and continued to discard his clothing.

  “What’s wrong with her suit?” Robin asked.

  “It’s attracting way too much attention,” he admitted.

  “Wow, it even attracted you, huh?” Myra derisively commented.

  Stefàn didn’t hear her, so distracted was he by Charisse’s appearance.

  Clearly annoyed about Stefàn’s behavior since their arrival—that is, basically ignoring Charisse for the attention of all the women who’d been grinning up in his face—Myra, however, was immediately taken aback when she fully caught sight of his exquisite physique.

  When he moved away from them and jumped into the pool behind Charisse, Robin said, “It don’t make no sense for a man to be that fine and have a body like that on top of it.”

  “It sure don’t,” Myra couldn’t help but agree. “No wonder these women are all over him. I just wish he’d leave Charisse alone ’cause I can see my girl falling for his player behind and getting her heart broken.”

  “Maybe,” Robin said thoughtfully, “but from what Julian tells me, Stefàn’s got it pretty bad for her.”

  “Yeah, well, he sure has a good way of hiding it,” Myra indicated.

  “He’s probably scared.”

  “Scared or not, I still don’t trust him. Charisse puts up a good front like she’s tough, but she’s really very sensitive and she’s showing all the signs of falling for him—way too fast. They just met last week.”

  “So I heard. I think she was supposed to come riding with us last Sunday. Humph, the fact that Stefàn was even going to bring her along is a big deal, Myra, because he doesn’t let anyone on his bike,” Robin informed her. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, she added, “Maybe Charisse is the one to straighten his fine behind out.”

  Myra didn’t comment because she couldn’t seriously put any faith in that happening.

  Meanwhile in the pool, Stefàn swam to where Charisse was floating casually on her back. “You think your suit is attracting enough attention?”

  Glancing over at him without a word, Charisse flipped over backward and went below the surface. She swam away from him, but he followed her. When she resurfaced a few feet away, he was right beside her.

  “Why are you running from me?” he asked.

  “I’m not running from you. I’m swimming,” she snidely answered as she tried to appear unaffected by the symmetry of his sculpted torso.

  A little green monster prompted him to say, “Your suit is attracting quite a bit of attention, with the way it’s reflecting the sun and all.”

  “Oh really? Has it attracted your attention?”

  “Mine and every other man’s here.” If it were up to him, she would be wearing one of those striped numbers they wore back in the dark ages with a high neck and long legs.

  “Is that a proble
m for you?” she asked while derisively eyeing him.

  He was used to her sharp tongue, but this was different. He sensed a bit of hostility from her, too, and that surprised him more than Myra. Unlike with Myra, though, he couldn’t ignore this. “What’s the matter, Charisse?”

  “What do you mean, what’s the matter?”

  “You seem upset about something.”

  “Well, I’m not. I’m just chillin’.”

  As he stared into glorious brown eyes that dared him to refute her words, she nonchalantly stated, “I think I’ll do some laps.”

  “Mind if I swim with you?”

  “Do what you want. It’s a free country.” With that she swam away from him.

  Something’s wrong. This wasn’t his Charisse. He had come to enjoy her pointed barbs, but he now sensed quite a bit of antipathy from her and that troubled him. What is she upset about?

  He followed her to the other end of the pool. Since he was such a strong swimmer, and she appeared not to be putting forth much effort as she glided through the water, he easily caught up to her. When he did, he grabbed her arm, which forced her to stop and direct her attention to him. “Charisse, you can’t tell me nothing is bothering you. I can feel it as sure as I can feel your arm in my grip.”

  “You must be imagining things, Stefàn. Or maybe you have a guilty conscience.”

  “What do I have to feel guilty about? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “So what makes you think I’m upset with you?”

  “I feel this vibe from you I’ve never felt before.”

  “Maybe you should take it easy. You’re probably worn out from all the flirting you’ve been doing since we got here,” she said flippantly, before swimming away from him again.

  She’s jealous. That reality hit him like a brick and for a short time he was unable to move. Watching as she flowed away from him, he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this revelation, so for the moment he chose not to. Eventually, he swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out. Looking back at Charisse, he tried hard to ignore the anxiousness he felt in his gut. Admit it, man, you’re jealous, too, that all these brothers are checking her out in that beautiful suit she’s wearing. Stefàn was so unaccustomed to the feelings that engulfed him when he was in her presence that to hide his unease, he shrugged as if unfazed and started across the yard to get a drink.

 

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