by K. M. Liss
I find a few decent jobs to apply for and write some details down to send them my resume and a cover letter later.
I've just finished when the door swings open and I look up to see Sean has arrived, albeit a little late, for his afternoon fix.
But he's not alone. He's accompanied by an older woman. She's a little bit funky, but also very stylish. Sixty, I'd guess. Her gray hair is cut in an asymmetric bob, with one of those tiny fringes, that suit artistic types. Long dangling earrings sweep her shoulders. As they arrive in front of me I notice her face is made up expertly. Her smart charcoal gray dress looks like it could be a designer label. The cut is just so perfect, and fits her very slim body like a glove.
“Hi,” I smile broadly at Sean and at his companion.
I can't invite him in front of her. It's kinda awkward. It'll have to wait until tomorrow.
“Melissa, meet Maxine,” Sean introduces us. “She's my photographer.”
She turns her head toward him. “Excuse me, darling. I think you'll find that you are 'my' model.” She tuts at him, rolls her eyes and sticks her nose in the air. I just love her accent. It's upper class English. A little nasal with strangulated vowels.
“Don't be so tetchy, it was a figure of speech, that's all,” he protests.
“I know exactly what it was,” she pokes him in the chest with a peach colored fingernail. “You were trying to exert your dominance over me, as usual.”
I cringe behind the till, trying to look busy, tapping some buttons on the screen.
“I'm not trying or exerting at all, it just happens, naturally.”
I cast a glance at her diminutive form, and then his, towering a good eight inches taller and far wider.
I think he has a point.
“Well try to be less natural in future.”
“I'll do my best to suppress any stray male characteristics in public.”
“As long as we have that straight,” she giggles, and hugs him briefly.
He hugs her back and laughs at her smiling upturned face.
Lucky Maxine, I think.
Surely I can't be envious of a gray haired sixty year old woman? But it seems I am.
“Don't take any notice of us, we fight like cat and dog,” Maxine apologizes, with a smile.
“It's nice to meet you anyway, Maxine. And call me, Lissa.” I smile warmly at her and Sean.
“And how are you doing so far? First day on the job, so Sean tells me.” I'm amazed he's discussed me with her. I must have made an impression in his mind that he didn't forget me the second he went out the door. I notice Sean is examining the chocolate cookies. He obviously likes chocolate.
I have a chocolate fantasy, which I love to indulge. I start one end of a long thin chocolate bar, and my dream chocoholic guy starts the other. We're not allowed to bite, just suck and lick until it all melts in the warmth of our mouths and all around our lips. Until finally, we meet in the middle in an orgasmic chocolate kiss, where we lick each others faces clean. I'm staring at Sean's mouth and imagining myself licking it and his tongue all over mine.
I leave my heavenly erotic fantasy and hurtle back to earth with a bump.
“I'm doing good, thanks. Just getting used to the routine, and all that...anyway...what can I get you guys ?”
“I'll have a primo cappuccino, no sugar, please, and we're sitting in,” she says.
I turn my attention to Sean. “Charlie tells me you're on the espresso, pm?”
“That's right, and make it a double. I need an extra hard hit to get through the rest of my afternoon with Maxine, I think she may be in one of her feminist moods.”
“Pardon? So I'm feminist and moody, am I? What a gentleman you are at times,” she says, pulling an unamused face at him.
“I consider myself to be a gentleman at all times,” he replies, stressing his words in a tone that implies he actually does.
“Do you? I can't fathom why.” She folds her arms and stares up at him with raised eyebrows.
“Why don't you just whip my goddamn ass and get it done with?” he replies, shortly.
“I'd love to whip your backside, darling, but I don't think you'll see that as punishment.”
“I might, if you whip me hard and long enough. Keep going till I scream in pain and beg for mercy at your sweet Gucci feet,” he grins at her and gives me a wink.
He has just become so hot and delicious, I'm salivating, and about to drool down my shirt.
She sighs loudly. “You're such a bad boy.”
It seems Maxine and I agree on Sean in principle.
“And you're a real ball breaker,” he replies.
Maxine giggles, “If I were a few decades younger I'd do more than break your balls.” She brushes the back of her fingers down his cheek, sensually.
“If you were, I'd let you. But as you're not, I'll continue to respect your age, wisdom, talent and beauty.”
The two of them chuckle together, a little dirtily, I notice.
I process their payment in amusement. I'm enjoying their banter now I know it's playful.
“If you'd like to take a seat. I'll bring them over. With a complimentary whip...I mean cookie...” I offer with a sweet smile.
I see his expression change, his eyes flare with a real surge of interest. I subtly eye him up, flicking my gaze up and down him appreciatively. I think I could look at him all day and all night. Until my eyes are scorched and burned to a crisp. Then I remember, yet again, he's Charlie's. I stop my eyes wandering over his dark blue denim hips. Unfortunately I can't stop him eying me up, which he is now very into. I'm flustered at the way his eyes are roaming around my body. Actually, they're just roaming around my tits. Up and down the valley and peaks. I'm burning up, imagining what he's thinking.
I turn away to compose myself. While their java brews and trickles into the cups, I calm down and busy myself with the very frequent and tedious coffee machine cleaning duty, which I am fast coming to hate.
They wander off to the far end and sit down. I can see, despite the age gap, gender difference, and constant verbal antagonism, they're at ease with each other. But I suppose they would be. Like an artist and her muse. They converse continually, little comments and animated sentences flowing like a current between them. But I can't hear what they're saying, even though I'm straining my ears like hell. A high pitched tinkly laugh, and a contrasting deep chuckle, fills the air, teasing me.
I finish the drinks and nervously carry them over to their table on a tray, complete with napkins and two small complimentary chocolate cookies. I'm very aware they're both watching me as I walk toward them.
He lounges on his seat, like he owns it. His jean clad legs are sprawled out lazily to the side, crossed at the ankles, big desert style boots on his big feet. Everything about him is just so large—so substantial. A rush of heat travels through me at the suggestion of size. I notice his heavily muscled arm is draped casually over the chair back. Sean can definitely pose. I bet he does it in his sleep. But I guess, being a model, it would come naturally to him—as naturally as sleep itself would. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it.
In contrast, Maxine sits demurely, in a very ladylike cross legged stance, straight backed and beautifully elegant.
His eyes are on mine. “Thanks, Lissa,” he says. But I look away. I can't hold his gaze anymore. My reaction to him is becoming far too strong. I'm so hot and my heart thumps wildly inside me. I'm beginning to understand Charlie's strength of obsession with Sean.
“Thank you, dear,” Maxine says.
“You're very welcome,” I reply.
They both stare at me, I can feel their eyes running over my whole body as I move the drinks from the tray to the table.
I feel incredibly self conscious.
Why are they staring at me in this way? It's like I'm a freak show or something.
“Can I get you anything else?” I manage, standing up straight, holding the tray protectively in front of my chest and preparing to run.
“No, were fine, thanks,” he answers.
I walk deliberately slowly back to my position behind the counter, feeling a wave of pure relief that I'm out of their intense space, but at the same time, perversely, I'm dying to get back in it.
I catch his eye across the room, and he raises his eyebrows at me, just a touch, as his mouth breaks into a broad grin. It's a smoldering, body stroking look. I can't help but sigh.
Sean, you're so, so sexy.
Ten minutes later they finish their coffee, and thoughtfully bring the cups back to the counter as they leave.
“Thanks. See you tomorrow,” I say.
“Bye, Lissa,” Maxine replies, waving at me with her fingers.
“You have a good one, now,” Sean says, and with another steaming look, which takes in every part of me, he's out the door.
There are quite a few other customers here, but it instantly feels cold and empty, now that Sean's glowing essence has departed. He has a blatant sexuality, a special presence, an aura of some kind. He's the type of man I want to bathe in, to drown myself in, from head to toe. I walk swiftly to the window, with the pretense of collecting some cups, to watch him walking away.
The confident set of his head and the smoothly co-ordinated, gliding movements of his limbs and body captivate me. I stand on tip-toe and crane my neck to get a last glimpse of him as they cross the street, and mount the steps of a tall, gray-stoned building a little way down the other side.
So close and yet so far.
Chapter Two
When I moved to New York from Chicago to do my degree, I took a while choosing a neighborhood. I looked at apartments almost everywhere— Carroll Gardens, Chinatown, Park Slope, Soho, Lower East Side, Greenwich— each had its own pluses and minuses. Eventually, I decided on a place in Greenwich Village for the ten minute trip to the Central University, and the ease of getting out and about. It was the most expensive area I looked at, but I liked the small room and my parents were fairly well off and able to help me out for a while. But now it's all up to me, and I really need some cash. Working full time in Coffee Haven should make a lot of difference. I breathe a sigh of relief that my finances won't be strangling me for much longer.
Joanne, a forty year old librarian and I share a small apartment. Charlotte lives with another girl close by us. When she's out of her lease agreement, we plan to share something together. But for now, it's not far between us and it's dead convenient for work.
As I leave the coffee shop, at the end of my shift, I head toward the subway. To my surprise, Sean is leaning against the wall, nearby, flicking at his cell.
“Hello, again,” I stop by his side.
“Hey,” he says, looking up and smiling widely.
“Enjoying the view?” I ask, humorously.
“It has its charms,” his eyes flare at me, “actually, I'm waiting for someone who's visiting from L.A. and this place is easy to find.” He points at the large bright red coffee cup sign which hangs above the door.
“Yo, where've you been hiding yourself, man?” A guy says loudly, laughing as he approaches him.
“Hey, Jasey.”
They have an enthusiastic, noisy, back-slapping, manly hug of greeting. I notice Jasey's very tall, dark and handsome. As I look from Sean to his friend, I'm thinking this is a very pleasant place to be standing. But, I realize, I'm imposing on their reunion, and I make to leave.
“I'd better go, see 'ya,” I say, but Sean takes my arm and stops me.
“Lissa, wait up. This is my pal Jase. Jase, Lissa.”
“Are you two umm...?” he asks, looking between the two of us curiously.
I laugh in acute embarrassment, catching Sean's amused grin. “No! We only met this morning. I've just started working in there.” I cock a thumb at the coffee shop behind me.
“Well, I'm real pleased to meet you,” he says, giving me the full once over.
“Yeah, hi,” I reply, trying to look cool and calm and used to this kind of attention.
“I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I'm a real caffeine junkie.”
“I'll be there, ready and waiting to serve you.”
“That sounds very appealing,” he chuckles.
I know that Sean's eyes haven't left me for a second. I can feel them burning into me. I cast a glance to find him standing cross armed and straight faced.
“You guys have a good evening, anyway.”
This is the ideal opportunity to invite him to the party, then I can run.
“Lissa, there's something I'd like to ask,” Sean says as I'm about to open my mouth.
Oh God, no... he's not gonna ask me on a date? I panic, wildly. This could be a real disaster. I divert the conversation quickly.
“Actually, there's something I'd like to ask you. Saturday night, Charlie and I have a birthday party planned, in Coffee Haven. Wanna come? The both of you? Free bar, food, music. You can get trashed and and it's only one minute to stagger home...” I giggle.
“Cool. I'm up for that, what about you pal?” Jase jumps in quickly, looking to Sean for confirmation.
“Yeah, it'll be fun,” Sean agrees.
“Great, now I'd better run, I'm meeting someone,” I lie.
They both say goodbye as I hastily rush away with a wave.
As I walk down the street, weaving in and out of the people passing by, I'm thinking I need to get Charlotte in with a fighting chance. To help her look her best. So when she gets him in her clutches, which she no doubt will, he'll see something he might like.
I squash on the crowded sub-way and send her a text.
- Just met Prince Sean and his friend Jase outside. They're are coming to the ball on Saturday. You need help, Cinders. Want further details?
- GREAT !!!!!!!!! Go on, hit me with it.
- Hair color - tone down to a normal shade of blonde (ditch the fuschia ends) - I have the perfect dress for you, so forget that strange creation you were going to wear - take ALL that junk out of your face - and you might just get to have him
- But I love my pink hair :(
- Sexy Sean or marshmallow hair - your call :/
It's a quick ride and I'm off the disgusting perspiration-scented train. I get home, whiz around and eat, and then I rummage through my minute and over crowded clothes cupboard. I find the little black dress I have in mind screwed in a ball at the back. It needs a visit to the washing machine, but it's just the thing for Charlotte. Mid thigh, and not cut too low. It's made from a stretchy fabric with a slight glitter effect to it and I'm sure it'll hug her little body just right. I would have worn it myself, but she's more in need of glamor than I am. I don't have anyone to impress. Charlotte's three inches shorter than my tall five nine, and slim. Actually I'm slim and she's way too thin, but I can't tell her that right now. I want to boost her confidence not flatten it. I poke around and find my other black number. It has chiffon, full length sleeves, a short circular skirt with an acre of chiffon to twirl and a decent V neckline. That'll do for me. I'll be the elegant black swan to her black sex kitten. We both have a pair of high heeled pumps to match. That's all we need. Apart from the statutory red lipstick.
I look in the wardrobe mirror at myself. What I see is a heart shaped face, reasonably attractive, regular features, hazel eyes and long, chestnut brown hair, which has a tendency to wave a lot. I'm not that bad to look at.
I drop both the dresses in the washing machine, along with my favorite black underwear.
After that, I have a mad burst of energy and tidy up the apartment. Joanne is away, on vacation for a fortnight, so I have the place to myself. I finish my tidying and place two piles of things on Jo's bed awaiting her return. Then I vacuum and spray everything with a good dose of freshener, and plump up the cushions on the sofa. All that activity has left me dying for a nice long shower, after which, I flop on the sofa.
I settle down to watch an old movie on cable. As the story unfolds, everything seems so much more simple and innocent than today's fast paced world. I w
onder if I'll ever find a love like this. A sweet and lovely guy who'll be everything to me. I can't see it happening.
So far, my experience sucks.
They want to play the field forever. It's not like I date young guys either, I tend to go for older ones, in their late twenties, and haven't yet met one who wants to settle down and get married. They're all jaded and scarred by their parent's divorces or can't see the point in it. It's too expensive, risky and old fashioned and requires something called 'long term commitment', which they've apparently never heard of. And as for kids...duh? What the hell are they? An unnecessary inconvenience, and not a great life priority, with all the guys I meet.
Maybe I am old fashioned in my attitude, wanting the dream, the fairytale love affair, to live happily ever after, with two sweet little children.
Actually, it's not really that much of a dream or a fairytale that I'm looking for. All I really want is for someone to love me, and me alone, to be faithful and want a future together.
That's not so much to ask, is it?
A voice resounds in my head, one that sounds distinctly like my ex, Andy, and it tells me, 'Well yeah, it is. Way too much like hard work, baby, and frankly, dead boring.'
It's sad that my moral convictions have only served to bring me sadness and pain. Charlotte seems to be very happy and enjoying her uncommitted, sex-filled lifestyle. Who am I to say I'm right and she's wrong? Perhaps I should think again about molding her to my way of thinking.
Maybe I could dip my toe in her water for a while— and have some uncommitted fun of my own.
It would make a pleasant change not to get hurt.
The idea is firmly lodged in my brain for further consideration.