“Oh, great. So what is it this year? Someone wants to bring a Santa and have the ladies sit on his knee again?” Gabriel teased.
“Of course not. There’s a desire for a Christmas tree, though. Is it still out of bounds due to the freedom-of-religion rule?” Candy smiled.
“Well, if we do have the tree as in some past years, someone will complain. I hate having to be so politically correct, but then before you know it, we’ll be buying menorahs for Hanukkah, Kwanza candles, Wiccan tree branches for the witches and wizards – you name it. It’s best we just leave well enough alone,” Gabriel laughed. “On second thought, I’ll just leave that up to you. OK, let’s just get this over with.” He buzzed Katherine.
“Katherine, Candy and I are meeting about the holiday party right now. Please order us a fruit and veggie platter from Zinky’s, two large mango smoothies, and a couple of bottled waters. Do you want anything else?” He asked Candy as his eyebrow arched.
Candy smiled and shook her head “no.” Suddenly, she felt like a school girl again and wanted to learn all that she could.
“Sure thing!” Katherine said happily.
“Oh, wait a minute, let me call Samantha and ask her to bring copies of the last year’s bonus report. I want you to see this before I forget,” Gabriel said as he called his personal assistant.
“Hey, Sam, can you bring the bonus report to me? I need two copies.”
“Of course. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Thanks,” Gabriel said.
“OK, now where were we?” Gabriel winked at Candy as he listened to her ideas.
* * *
“You a ho,” Jasmine teased as she continued to jog in place. Her tiny but sheik apartment was now decorated with zebra print, black shag, and African art. The Nag Champa incense filled the tiny living room as old-school hip hop strangled Candy’s ears.
“I am not!” Candy laughed, choking on the incense vapors. “What do you have to drink in here?” Candy stood up and stretched.
“Uh, there’s some grape juice. I haven’t been to the grocery store in a while, but help yourself!” Jasmine said between huffs and her Tae Bo DVD. Candy returned to the living room, propping her pink polka dotted socks on Jasmine’s glass coffee table. Jasmine wiped the sweat from her brow with a thick, white washcloth and smiled. “Now that’s what I call a workout.” She turned the television off and slumped next to Candy on the broken-in couch.
“OK,” Jasmine said, out of breath, “now, we have to make sure you don’t appear too eager.” Jasmine turned towards Candy with a serious expression on her face.
“Are you a relationship coach now?” Candy laughed.
“I should be. I have the credentials. I landed that cop despite my record of small misdemeanors.” They both laughed.
“Now, why did you call me a ‘ho?’” Candy asked as she playfully hit Jasmine on the shoulder.
“You know why. I can tell you’re eager to see what this man is workin’ wit’. You may as well show up at his front door with a sign that says ‘I came over here to fuck!’ That’s all you’ve been talkin’ about the last few days. I’ve never dated a white guy, but I’ve seen enough porno movies to know that not all of them are small.”
“I don’t need to hear all of that!” Candy cackled. “I’m curious though. It’s been awhile. I haven’t had sex with anyone since Quentin. I was on the rebound with him anyway, so maybe I thought the sex was better than it actually was.” Candy shrugged her shoulders.
Jasmine shook her head. “Forget Quentin and all the rest of those jokers. We’re talkin’ about Gabriel! Now, don’t let his height fool you either. He may not be six feet, but height means little when it comes to dick size,” Jasmine explained with a serious expression.
“Why do you keep talkin’ about penises? I’m just curious about the intimacy. I never once mentioned his penis size!” Candy snorted.
“Because if the dick ain’t right, it’ll be a short night – period! Wait a minute, white people say ‘cock.’ Should I say ‘cock’ instead?” Jasmine teased as she threw on a fake British accent.
“Oh, shut up!” Candy laughed. “I still can’t believe he invited me over to spend the night tonight and I accepted. I have no idea if something will happen or not, but that isn’t my focus anyway, regardless of what you say.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I know you can’t possibly be that naive! Men are all the same. When they invite you over, that means they want to hit that, but it doesn’t mean he sees you as cheap or trashy. I told you this a while back, but you didn’t wanna hear it. There’s no mystery to solve here! Wear your fuck ’em girl panties, not the old, torn-up granny ones you reserve for periods and lazy sleep-in days.” Jasmine looked Candy up and down. “Now that you’re droppin’ weight again, you may even be able to fit into a couple of things I have.”
Candy sucked her teeth. “I don’t want anything of yours. There’s no tellin’ what the hot water didn’t kill – you and your cooties. No thanks,” Candy laughed.
“Ha ha ha!” Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Anyway Lady, you need a game plan. He’s gonna lay it on thick. Don’t be surprised if everything is set up all romantically. It’s called a ‘booty trap.’ These dudes have the wine chilled, music playin’, the bed made up all nice, and a photo of you beside the bed. They know damn well that as soon as you leave, that pic’ll be buried in their nightstand underneath the new box of condoms and Astroglide they bought for the next ho the following night.”
Candy looked at her and grimaced. “Bitter much? Jasmine, you need to let that anger go. You’re the angriest broad I’ve ever known,” Candy said, still looking at her friend with concern.
“Whatever. I may be angry, but I’m right goddamn it. Anyway, so here’s what you need to do. Arrive lookin’ laid back. Not overdressed – sexy but not sleazy. Bring an overnight bag, but only bring a few things in it. Don’t have everything in there but the kitchen sink. Men get scared when they think a bitch tryin’ to move in, like if they see an extra pair of panties in your bag or some extra toothbrushes. They know we like to leave a mark, and they’re not tryin’ to have any of that – until they’re sure you’re the one they wanna be with for more than a week or two. Since you and Gabriel have been datin’, unofficially of course, for about a month or two now, you need…”
“Forty-eight days,” Candy smirked.
“Not only are you a ho, you’re a silly ho. Stop getting star-buck struck, and listen to the master speak!” Jasmine laughed. “Now listen. You need to bring the class that you always bring, so if it goes there, act like you don’t wanna do it. Protest a bit. Men like to beg for that shit. Don’t make it too hard, but don’t make it too easy, either. They wanna feel like they earned that shit when they’re givin’ it to you nice and proper.”
“Jasmine, I never knew how nasty you were,” Candy said as she finished off the juice in her small, floral decorated Dixie cup.
“I just say what everybody else is thinkin’ I’ve told you this. Stop interruptin’ me, I’m on a roll. You really should be takin’ notes!” Jasmine gave Candy a look of disapproval and continued. “Dallas said that guy from high school, um…”
“Jason,” Candy reminded.
“Yes, Jason, was a freak. Don’t get your hopes up. There’s only one true freak born outta every ten men. Most of ’em are just selfish or skill-less. The adventurous ones who know how to make love, are super freaky, take their time, and please the woman first are rare. Dallas just got lucky.”
“You know, she never really told us what he did that was so freaky,” Candy contemplated. “All she did was tell us his oral skills were on point. I wanna know what he did to turn her out.”
“I do too, but you know Dallas will never tell us. She’s too modest for that, but don’t even worry about that right now. Set your expectations low so you aren’t disappointed.” Jasmine patted Candy’s knee. Candy nodded in agreement.
HO CAKES
1 sultry woman
/> 2 blueberry balls (cream cheese with blueberries)
1 horny man who is hotter than 750-degrees on his coldest day
7 tbsp of prophylactics
2-24 oz. bottles of water and a cigarette
Simmer for ten minutes then repeat, repeat, repeat…
* * *
CHAPTER 12
‘I came over here to fuck,’ Candy thought as she pulled into Gabriel’s driveway and burst into incontrollable giggles, recalling what Jasmine had said. She continued to laugh as she reminisced about the entire conversation with Jasmine earlier that day.
“What are you laughing at?” she heard the scruffy voice come over the gate telecom as if she were at a drive-through restaurant. “I can see you, you know,” Gabriel added as he watched Candy’s smile turn into a look of surprise.
“Oh, nothing! My friend Jasmine said something funny and I was just thinking about it.”
“Oh, you brought a chaperone. I don’t see her,” Gabriel teased.
“You know what I mean! I was at her crib, I mean, her house earlier.”
“I’m not out-of-the-loop, Candy. I know what ‘crib’ means. I have a teenager,” he laughed as he let the gates swing open.
Candy drove up and parked in her usual spot. This time, Gabriel greeted her at the door. His scent intoxicated her immediately. She could see he was freshly shaven. His burgundy shirt was unbuttoned slightly, and his slightly loose, black pants fit him to perfection. She looked further down and saw that he was barefoot. He was holding a glass of red wine in a beautiful sterling rimmed goblet and nodded in the direction of the dining room as he closed the immense wooden door behind her. Candy smirked as she heard the jazz music playing, immediately thinking of Jasmine’s words.
“That’s nice,” she said as he took her coat and folded it over his arm. “Who’s that – Najee?” she asked as she entered the dining room. Just like their first brunch when Gabriel’s personal chef cooked a wonderful spread for them, the table was set beautifully. Fresh cut calla lilies formed a centerpiece, and dark-gold bowls and a fresh loaf of garlic bread were carefully laid out.
“No, that’s us, Gentle Scorpion.” Gabriel smiled as he hung her coat up, then pulled her chair out and walked to his seat beside her.
“Are you serious? You all sound great! How’d you get that name for your band anyway? I’ve been meaning to ask you that.” Candy delicately put her linen napkin over her lap.
“George, my friend who plays the drums, named the group. He has a scorpion tattoo on his right shoulder, and one night in college, we were all drunk. Big surprise, right?” Gabriel laughed.
Candy smiled. “I guess that’s what frat boys do.” She raised her glass in the air and took a sip of the rich wine.
“Yeah, pretty much. One night, we had been drinking at a party, and George, who was the party animal amongst us, was trying to get close to some girl. She kept shrugging him off, and he wasn’t used to that, so he just came on out and asked her why she was ignoring him. She pointed to his tattoo and said it was because he was a Scorpio and she doesn’t get along with them. That’s when George smiled and said, “But I’m a gentle Scorpion.” They’ve been married for fifteen years now.” Gabriel laughed as he sliced into the bread. Steam rose, and the scent of rosemary reminded Candy of her grandmother’s herb garden deep in Mississippi.
“Would you like some garlic bread?” Gabriel asked as he cut into the thick crust.
“Yes,” Candy answered as she watched the heat rise from it.
“Would you like some butter?” he offered. The butter log was filled with herbs and spices and served on a silver platter, tormenting Candy with its outrageous deliciousness.
“Uh, no thanks,” she answered, controlling the stirring in her stomach.
“You know, a little butter in moderation is OK,” Gabriel said, seeming to read her mind.
“I guess I’m afraid of the moderation part,” Candy laughed. “That reminds me, what was it like being a personal trainer?”
“…and a fat kid?” Gabriel added with a smile.
“No, no! I never said that.” Candy’s face flushed with heat.
“It’s OK. I’m offering. That’s really how it did start. I didn’t want to be that way anymore, so I looked into ways to change my body. The problem was that after I got a six-pack and had ladies noticing me, the reason for my being overweight was still there.”
“And what was that?” Candy asked, her interest even more piqued.
Gabriel presented a homemade bowl of vegetable soup to her and sat back down.
“That I was unhappy, and that’s what unhappy people do. I blame it on my Italian mother’s great cooking, my father’s unrelenting temper, my inability to please him, and my need for instant gratification when I wasn’t feeling particularly good about myself. Once I really took a look at those issues, the weight came off and stayed off. Enough about that though, what about you and your family? I never hear you say much. What are your parents like?” Gabriel asked as he left for the kitchen, which seemed miles away.
“Can you hear me all the way in there? What are you doing?” Candy asked, slightly raising her voice and watching him move quickly around the dark granite countertops.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just getting the steaks out. I let Robert take tonight off, but he insisted on preparing dinner and leaving early after he knew you were coming over.” Gabriel returned with two filet mignon.
“Well, that was nice of him,” Candy said as she looked at the elegantly put-together plate. “To answer your question, my parents and I are very close. I’m an only child, so we did everything together. My mother travels a lot to conventions and fabric warehouses. She used to own a beauty salon but decided she wanted to try something different a couple of years ago. She’s the consulting manager for a local business that makes custom-made blinds, rugs, and drapes.”
“Parsons,” Gabriel seemed to almost mumble as he finished his soup.
“Yes! How did you know that’s the company she works for?” Candy asked suspiciously.
“Because I had my bedroom and living room drapes made there, and they’re one of a kind. The wooden blinds in my office came from there too. They’re the only company in the tri-state that offers that sort of upscale craftsmanship.” He broke off a piece of bread and popped it into his mouth.
“Well, I’ll let her know you think so highly of them. She’d enjoy the compliment,” Candy smiled.
“She made you beautifully – beautiful genetic craftsmanship,” Gabriel flirted. Candy’s stomach churned as she saw that look in his eyes once again. She readjusted herself in her seat, suddenly losing her appetite from the butterflies that now invaded her stomach.
“Well, aren’t you a sweetie,” Candy laughed. She looked down at her plate. The warm juices from the steak slowly puddled into a small river of blue cheese and truffles. The aroma was divine. She looked back up and saw Gabriel nearer to her, leaning in so close that she caught a slight glimpse of his soft, dark chest hair as his shirt slightly fell open. She looked at his lips, then back up to his eyes. She closed hers and swallowed as she felt his lips graze ever so softly against hers. He slid his bottom lip along hers so delicately it reminded her of the tip of a feather. Gradually, she felt more pressure as both of his lips were pressed against hers, kissing her tenderly. He then leaned back, leaving Candy there, still moving her lips as if she were kissing an invisible man.
“You asked about being a personal trainer. Back in my freshman year of college, I decided to get a job at the gym. By then, a lot of the weight was off, but I wanted to take it a step further. The guy who owned the gym volunteered to teach me to be a trainer. He said I had the right personality, and it would be extra money for me.” Gabriel cut into his meal.
Candy looked at him wide-eyed as he slowly placed each piece of succulent meat into his mouth. “So, we have our first real kiss that goes beyond a peck, then talk about the gym like nothing happened?”
“Yes. I didn
’t think to make a big deal out of it,” Gabriel explained, confusion growing on his face. Candy rubbed her index finger along her top lip, still feeling him. He lingered even though he was surely gone. She smiled. “Well, what is a big deal to you, Gabriel?”
“My daughter, my life, my health, finding a life partner.” He bit into his bread once more.
“And where do I fit in this equation?” Candy asked. “I hope I’m not being too forward.” She leaned in closer to him.
Gabriel hesitated and grinned. “I don’t know yet, but I’d like to find out.”
Candy frowned as fear rose up in her psyche. “Gabriel, are you sure this isn’t a mistake? It still isn’t too late for us to turn back.” Once the words left her mouth, she wished desperately for a way to take them back, but it was too late.
“Are you finished eating?” Gabriel said blandly as he stood up and abruptly removed his napkin from his lap.
“I believe so,” Candy answered. “Sorry, I’m just…”
“Running, and trying to find a reason to continue,” Gabriel interrupted. “I think I’ve demonstrated I have no problems being indecisive. I don’t jump into things without thinking. I don’t take money, family, or romance lightly. I’m not a twenty-one year old kid trying to get laid. I’m nine years older than you. You appear very confident at work, and you back it up. You’re a no-nonsense person, and you know how to talk to people without alienating them or making them feel lesser than who they are, but I’m starting to feel lesser-than because you keep playing with me.”
“I’m not playing with you. I’m being honest and open.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes, “First, you deny any attraction when we both knew that was a lie. Then you say you don’t date co-workers, yet everyone knew about you and Quentin, except for me. Then you tell me you need to discuss business on a rainy Friday night when I had plans. You just popped over and expected me to forgive everything. You were wearing your little low-cut shirt, showing all that cleavage – which was nice to look at it, don’t get me wrong – but it wouldn’t have mattered if you were dressed in a paper sack. I would’ve responded the same way. I took you up on your reconsideration because I wanted to date you so badly. Now you sit here and tell me we can turn back. I don’t understand why you keep doing this, but it’s tiring, and we haven’t even started.”
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