by K. F. Breene
“How long were you listening?” he asked crossly.
“We were just walking up on you. I didn’t hear much, but that’s not the point William!”
I took a deep breath to calm myself, then started again. “Okay, look. I’ll break it down for you. I do want to hang around for a while. You were really the only reason I was leaving in the first place. Now there are more reasons to stay than go. I want to work up in the company, and I want to be an adult. I need at least a couple years in the job before I am even taken seriously anywhere else.
“And then, yes, there is you. Why would I leave you? What would I even leave you for? I haven’t even thought about it. But William, it is a car. A car. That is just such a big commitment. You have to at least have it two years to get any value out of it. If I buy it new there is a huge car payment. If I buy it used it is a lesser, but still prevalent car payment, added to by repairs.” I looked at him expectantly.
“So...your problem with buying the car is...? I still don’t understand what the big deal is.” He was incredulous.
I have this bad habit of going beyond frustration and starting to cry for some, any, release. I am not proud of this trait, but there it is. This was one of those moments. The fear and worry that money caused were so far removed from some people that they didn’t even get the concept. How do you explain breathing air to a fish?
I shook my head as the tears sprung up. I got out of the car—well, I tried to get out of the car. He had the damn locks still on and I couldn’t figure out how to get the door open.
Then I was trapped by two large hands reeling me in, gently but firmly. He rested me against his chest and put his face close to mine.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t cry,” he said in a hushed tone.
I struggled to get myself out of his grip with more force then I probably needed. “Damn it! I am not f-ing sad!” I could feel my face getting red.
His mouth clicked shut, but the surprised look on his face didn't wash away.
“William, listen very closely,” I seethed, at the end of my patience and ready to just get it all out there, embarrassing or no. “I am poor. I am getting a huge deal on rent because Gladis likes me. I save, but compared to you that is peanuts. I don’t have the money to just buy a car. Any loss would be added to my enormous college and credit card debt. I don’t have it. I simply do not have it. I could probably make it work, that is if nothing happens to my living arrangement, but I will be financially pinched for three to five years. That is a long time.
“If you do the math, I will be setting myself back three-to-five-years. Think how you would feel if your whole ranch caught on fire. All the animals died. All your bulls, dead. The house, gone. You have money so you could just buy a new house, but can you buy those same prize bulls for your breeding?”
I could see this sinking in.
“That is what a car is to me. Does that almost make sense now?”
I was actually calming myself down as he was gaining awareness to my real issue. “So yes, it is just a car. It really isn’t a big deal. The money to buy said car, however, is. It is a little embarrassing to have to spell this out to you, since you’ve never had money problems...” I trailed off.
I was suddenly depressed. Who was I fooling? Him and me, me and him—it would never work. How could it? We weren’t just from different worlds, we were from difference galaxies. Just enough meets gross excess.
I suddenly knew what his mom’s problem would be. A look in my bank account would confirm it. Me not knowing how to act in high society would cement it. Poor William was just fooling himself.
“Would it be rude if I just bought you a car to smooth everything over?” he asked.
Way wrong answer.
I smiled despite my black mood, clasping my hands together so I didn't punch him in the mouth. “No, it would be incredibly sweet, but I wouldn’t be able to accept it.”
“No, I thought not. Too big too soon.”
“That’s what she said!” I giggled.
“Who said…What?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, never mind. Let’s go.”
Chapter Three
I wasn’t paying attention due to thinking about finances, so I didn’t notice which store we stopped in front of. That was, until I looked up and saw Prada! I looked at William wild-eyed. Did he really intend to buy me a present from Prada?!
A car, no. That is too big of a purchase. Only spouses do that sort of thing. They would be sharing the bill anyway.But a handbag or some glasses? Women’s lib though I do support, I would be hard pressed to say no when faced with the dilemma!
I must have looked like a kid on Christmas. I was actually hopping up and down. William just shook his head, gave me a one armed hug.
“Okay, look,” he said, holding plastic out, “as I said, this is more for me than you. This is like your stage make-up, or battle gear, I dunno. My mom will be looking to see if you have Prada or Gucci, since you said something about them. She will want to see your taste. If you don’t have one, that can only be bad news.”
Good yes, let’s blame this on the mom. It’ll make the purchase easy to accept. I was bobbing up and down, clapping lightly.
“They might know my family in there,” William continued, a grin pushing at his straight face. “At least, they know the family name, but they won’t know you, so here, take these.”
He handed me two VISA gift cards. They were just like credit cards, but with a limited amount of cash on them, and no name attached. “Together they should have enough for a new bag—you know, first out. Or just out, or whatever. I don’t know anything about this stuff.” He shrugged. “Anyway, get a bag that you think suits you and that you would buy if you just decided to splurge. Or better yet, you got a few gift cards from friends and went for it. Do you understand?”
“Yes!” I squealed in delight.
He shook his head with a quirked smile. He tried to regain his business-like brow furrow, but with my antics, finding it difficult.
“Don’t worry about price,” he went on, trying to look away to get back to business, but unable. “Use whatever you have to. But just the one bag, though, if you don’t mind. We will get you some Channel sunglasses after.”
“William Davies, shut your mouth!” I pushed him away from me. “Seriously? Are you serious? You’re not messing with me are you?” I gave him a stern face.
“Wha…? Is this you aggressively happy?”
“Yes! I should say no. I really should. But…oh my God! Wait ‘til I tell the girls! So excited! I feel like a chic princess!” I did a happy dance right there on the sidewalk. A couple older ladies laughed as they walked by.
His lopsided smile and confused but delighted eyes told me he was enjoying my excitement over something he thought trivial. Take a rich girl to the shop and buy her Prada, she would probably wonder why you waited so long and mutter a thank you, or plant a kiss. She would already have a million bags—what’s one more? Take a poor college student on the same errand and she would think the sun shone out of your ass. I was already thinking of the lavish attention I would be spending on him as a thank you.
“Okay, well off you go. Pick something good. I have another errand to run so I’ll meet you at the bar in the middle of the complex. Take your time.”
Today was so good. More than making up for the past three months of hell. Kinda.
I tucked the gift cards into my wallet and entered through the wide double doors. I slowed my happy dance. I cooled my expression. I couldn’t wipe off the smile. Some things were permanent.
I gave some scarves a glance, just to peruse. Just to make it an experience instead of an errand. I touched some shoes—even picked one up. Then on to the goal line. Handbags!
Critical thinking time.
If I was given money to spend from friends, I wouldn’t go for the everyday, romp around town type of bag—I’m too hard on them. I’d ruin it in a week. No, I would get something to wear when I dressed to impress. B
ut if I went too formal, like a clutch, I would only get to use it every once in a while. That’s a waste.
I then had to think about size. I generally didn’t carry that much in my purse. But if I got too small I was confined. It was looking like I was going for the middle of the road type of bag.
I hadn’t even gotten to color and style when the saleswoman approached. I bounced ideas off her, telling her that all my friends from L.A. pooled together to send me off in style. It was a white lie, but it would be good in case Mrs. Davies ever inquired about me. I loved the bags, but didn’t buy them all the time obviously.
Being that I was crazy excited, and the saleswoman probably made about what I did, she got to be a girl instead of a salesperson. We laughed and played, and finally narrowed it down to two. Then did a fashion show with shoes.
Alas, I found my first designer handbag!
I handed over the gift card with a blasé attitude, kind of scared I wouldn’t have enough. These bags were extremely expensive, and if William didn’t know anything about them, he probably wouldn’t realize someone would spend $1500 on a purse.
It was why I didn’t have designer thus far.
“Sign here, please,” The lady said, returning the gift card.
“Oh…” I signed my name on the recipe, then held up the card. “Is this…Is there more on this?”
The lady looked around the counter, as if the answer was placed next to her cash register, then shrugged, “There must be, but I can’t see how much.”
“Got it, thanks,” I said, watching the card disappear in my wallet, wondering how much William put on it. I had another one, too. He went way big instead of too small.
In hindsight, yes, I should have known that was his style, but still. Must be nice.
I wandered around the high-end complex and looked in a few more stores, then hit the bar. Not seeing William, I got myself a beer and checked email.
The seat next to me moved. “Hey babe,” said my man’s familiar baritone.
“Hi!” I beamed, angling my head for a kiss. His eyes were deep pools with a shimmering surface. It was one of those situations where the water isn’t calm enough to see down into the depths, but that depth was hinted at.
A deep part in my center stirred for the briefest of seconds, leaving me confused and slightly scared. It was a chunk attached with deep roots. If that part broke, I would be devastated.
Best just to think of his looks and my new handbag. Safer.
I barely waited for him to sit before I pounced. “Hi, thank you so much! Here’s your cards back—I only needed one. It was so fun! Seriously, I don’t know how to thank you enough, William, but later tonight I will try…” I gave him a sultry look. His beer sloshed over the rim of his glass, onto his wrist. “DoyouwannaseewhatIgot? Do ya? It is sooo cute! You’ll love it!”
He shook his head to clear it. “What? Repeat more slowly please.”
I took a big breath. “Do you want to see what I got? It is totally cute!”
“Let’s wait for the car.” A cockeyed smile was twisting his mouth. He was still trying to be business about the whole thing. Fool!
“Okay.” I pouted, peering up at him from under my lashes.
He laughed. “Oh all right.”
“Yay!” I practically dove into the bag to get it.
He nodded. “Nice.”
“Nice? Here, look at the pockets.”
“Uh huh.”
“William! Try harder. Use your words.”
He chuckled again and said, “I don’t know. It’s a handbag. It’s fine. It looks like your style. Great. Excellent work!” he enthused.
“Oh whatever,” I said in mock huff and gingerly wrapped it back up. “What’d you get?”
“Huh? Oh, I just had to take care of a few things. Business. Nothing big.”
After we had a beer and some lunch, we went to Channel and William helped me pick out a pair sunglasses that looked good on my face. He got a pair, too.
When we got to the car he handed the gift cards back. “These are yours to do with what you please. I got them for you.”
“No. I mean, I know, thank you. But I didn’t need it all for the bag, and then you bought me the sunglasses, so…change.” I explained briefly why I didn’t get the newest of the bags.
He laughed and shook his head. “Jesus you are honest. Usually women scrape and beguile and get everything they can. I’m not used to getting change back. Or stopping at one item when you were given more to spend.”
I didn’t like the direction this was going.
“I told you—I’m not like that. I am not a two bit gold digger that is just tryi—“
“I’m sorry!” he cut me off, throwing his hands up. “I’m sorry. I was thinking out loud. I know that is not you. That is part of the reason why I like you. Sorry!”
“You better remember it, buddy!”
“You have anything to do today?”
“Nope. Got nothing. Any more errands you need to do?”
“I got everything done that I absolutely needed to. I had planned to go out tonight before…last night. Did you want to go?”
“Yeah, why not. Well, what is the situation with us in public?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, okay, here’s the thing. You have your world that you don’t really want us to be seen together in, and I have mine. How are we going to do this?” I was starting to get depressed about the whole situation again. Why was being with him so easy, but yet irritatingly difficult?
“It isn’t that I don’t want us seen together, it is that I don’t want my mom to find out how together we are until you are properly introduced.”
“I have been introduced.”
“With me, I mean. As my… date. I want her to find out from me that I have someone, not from gossip. She’ll be more open to you that way.”
“Oh. Okay, well people at work can’t know about you. Ever. If I get raises or promotions people will say it was because I am schtooping the boss. That I got promoted lying down.”
He was quiet for a minute. “I see your point. I assume Candace is the exception?”
“Yes. And your friends—you don’t care about them knowing?”
“Why would I?”
“Okay, well let me ask you this, how much can I touch you in front of them?”
“Jessica, you are just getting paranoid now. Ease into it. Feel it out as you go. Don’t get all riled up about nothin’.”
“I don’t even know where you got that English,” I said with a laugh, trying to diffuse my anxiety. I didn’t know how to feel it out. I hadn’t been in a healthy relationship, well, ever. I always picked jerks for some reason. So now, with a normal guy that liked me, I was terrified I’d screw it up somehow. I needed rules, guidelines. Hell, give a gal some brail.
Back at my house, William followed me in and gave me a long, deep, sensual kiss that left me breathless and lightheaded. It also left me hot and bothered, which I was sure was his intention. Instead of satisfying the urge right then, I decided it was time for my thank you.
“Give me a sec?” I asked, wiggling out of his grasp.
He made a disappointed moan, letting me get away with a light slap to my butt.
I nearly sprinted to my room. I ripped open my “not often used” drawer, rifling through a layer of lingerie I’d never used, but really wanted to. Now I got to! So many options!
Well, three.
I chose a red satin number with black lace. It was racy, it was shiny, it showed nipple. Yee-haw.
I sauntered back out in high heels and my new sunglasses. He stood at the bookcase, idly leafing through a volume. I walked in, all hip, currently behind him, wanting that element of surprise.
“Hey,” I said in an everyday tone.
He turned with the book, a question on his lips, then froze. The book wobbled. His mouth dropped. His eyes tried to cover every ounce of me at once, but my nipples held them hostage.
I continued my
saunter, feeling up my thighs, casually lifting the ends of the nighty so I could flash him my lace thong. His eyes zoomed in, desperate to see it again even after I dropped the satin back in place. He still hadn’t moved.
I took the book from his hands and set it aside. A quick flick of the remote brought Marvin Gaye into the room. William didn’t drop his hands. His cock bulged against his pants.
I ran a finger down his face, course with not shaving that morning. Moving my body to the music, slowly, sensually, I turned, pressing my back into his groin, doing a little wiggle. Then I did the move I had been too chicken to do during the dance-off at Froggy's: I stroked behind me, down his stomach, then over the bulge of his cock.
He groaned, his hands grabbing my hips and clutching. He didn’t direct me in any way, he just needed something to hold on to. Something to keep him tethered.
And he better hold on tight, because the teasing had just begun.
I slowly stepped away from him and led him to my bedroom. He must have sensed that it was my turn to be in charge because he followed me like a lost lamb, stars in his eyes and lead in his feet. Once there, I lit a candle and turned on some music. Setting the mood was important.
The only part of his body that moved was his eyes. They coated every inch of me, desperate not to miss a single detail, turning himself on with each bump, each crease, each peak and valley of my flesh. I reached up to him, connecting with his lips, feeling that rush. Opening my heart at the same time as his mouth, and suddenly wanting to go for it right then. Wanting to take him.
Whoa girl, easy does it.
Fighting for control, I unbuttoned his shirt, one pain staking button at a time, while kissing his ears, lips, neck, then down his smooth chest. I flung his shirt behind me, licking a nipple, then a soft bite.
“Oh—“ William jumped, letting his head fall back. He was still hanging onto my hips for dear life.
I moved to the other nipple as my fingers worked the brass buttons of his jeans.