Jason was not amused; their screams had frightened the living daylights out of him. He had thought they were facing some form of real danger, here in his house, and they had only been looking at a pair of shoes – shoes for goodness sake! Jason felt the vexation in him bubbling to the surface. Ready to inform Aviva of his total lack of interest in her shoes, she beat him to the mark. “I know, it’s alright, I was lost for words too – please… you don’t need to say anything, just enjoy their beauty.”
Jason couldn’t believe what he was hearing, was she nuts, what the hell did he care about her shoes? Aviva thought Jason looked as though he were going to have a fit. His face was turning an angry shade of red and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her not to give in to laughter. Ensuring that no trace of her true feelings were visible, Aviva adopted her most understanding expression and squeezed his right bicep. “Don’t worry; it’s alright for big blokes like you to like women’s shoes. Believe me, many do, they just don’t like to admit it.”
Taken aback, Jason's eyes widened in disbelief – was this woman for real, he had admitted no such thing. Aviva couldn’t take any more; turning her back to Jason she rushed over to the couch and sat down, her face buried in a cushion to muffle her laughter. Taking short breaths and almost at a point of controlling her laughter, she recalled the look of horror on Jason’s face as she told him that it was alright to admit a liking for women’s shoes, and she started pounding the cushion she held with a fist, hysterical laughter exploding from her like an erupting volcano. The sound of Steve’s and Hope’s laughter was soon joined by the baritone of Jason's mirth. Well at least he had a sense of humor.
“Okay, you got me – what is this, payback because I didn’t save you from the dreaded… spaaa?”
“No…but now I come to think about it, I still need to get you back for that.” Aviva said once she managed to get her laughter under control.
“This whole shoes thing weren’t payback enough for you?”
“Are you kidding, I wasn’t even thinking about payback and for your information, I would never use my beautiful shoes as a means of exacting restitution for your most ungallant conduct of this morning. Oh no, for that my beautiful shoes will not be involved.”
Jason looked at Aviva with a big grin on his face. “So how was the spa?”
“The place was a complete dump, and the people who work there must have been trained by hammer handed torture artists who wouldn’t know their way around the human body from cutting up a slab of meat.” Aviva answered keeping a straight face.
“Ma'am”, I can assure you my establishment is one of the best, if not the best in this whole city!”
Without missing a beat Aviva changed from complainer to praise giver. “My bad, you got me, the place was totally amazing, it was one of the best experiences of my life, they took very good care of us.”
Jason couldn’t take his eyes from the enchanting minx laid out before him on his couch. His eyes held hers for a moment and then began to move slowly down her body. He took in her dark skin with its milk chocolate hue which glowed with a gold undertone. Perfect brows arched over eyes that were big and slanted up at the corners to give a cat like appearance. Her nose was difficult to explain it was neither small nor large, it flared at the nostrils and it fit her face perfectly. Her lips kept pulling his eyes back to them again and again. They were full and luscious and the most enticing shade of natural burgundy he had ever seen on a woman. When he looked at her full lips he imagined how they would feel and how they would taste. His eyes wandered down to her chin that was small and looked incredibly stubborn, ready to jut out at the smallest provocation and stand her ground.
His eyes continued their downward journey to her neck which was long and slender; as his eyes alighted there, he wondered if her neck was one of her erogenous zones. His eyes moved again, down to her shoulders, which were narrow and square, upon which locks of jet black afro curls lay. Then on to her breasts which were large for a woman of her size. Jason was a breast and butt man and those breasts, without a doubt could hold his attention. Continuing on, he took in her flat stomach and tiny waist, down again, to the flare of her hips which looked wide and accommodating. He couldn’t see her legs and feet as they were hidden, confined within wide leg linen trousers and ballet pumps. As his eyes began to move up her body he realized her breathing had changed; her chest was rising and falling in a way that fascinated him. His eyes traveled up to meet hers once again; she was no longer laughing, instead he realized he had her complete attention and what she saw in his eyes, was no laughing matter.
Their eyes locked, Aviva’s heart started a rapid tattoo as Jason tried to convey his thoughts while looking deeply into her brown orbs. Flooded with an unexpected feeling of excitement she broke the contact, unable or unwilling to accept what Jason’s look expressed. Aviva pushed the cushion aside and rose quickly to her feet, excused herself in a mumbled tone and made what she hoped was a dignified exit out the door. The word coward popped into her head, ‘hell yeah’ there, she admitted it, she was actually running away in an attempt to distance herself from the look in his eyes, a look, that for a moment felt as though it would overwhelm her.
When the door closed behind a quick exiting Aviva, Jason remembered that they had not been alone. An intense quiet had descended, enshrouding the room. Turning his head Jason found the two other occupants staring at him, looks of wonder as to what they had just witnessed. He felt no need to explain himself; instead he winked at them and took a seat in the exact place his little minx had vacated; certain that she would be back very soon, and he couldn’t wait to see what was next.
Chapter 3
Aviva’s rapid departure led her to her bedroom where she closed the door and sat down on the bed with rapid breathing and a panicked look on her face. 'Okay now,' she thought to herself, 'that huge man was not looking at you like he wanted to gobble you up. Remembering what Hope had said about his preference in women, Aviva placed that thought in the forefront of her mind. With that thought established her heart-rate began to slow to its normal tempo.
With the lowering of her pulse Aviva got a bit miffed. She knew she was being a coward exiting the room so abruptly, but she was determined that Jason not have a chance to view her as such. Standing up she started pacing the room. There was no way in hell she was going to be the sort of woman who ran away from a man who she had considerable doubts that she could handle. As she continued pacing, she got an idea; rushing across the room she pulled out the bag that contained two of the wedding gifts she had purchased for Steve and Hope. Pulling the wrapping paper off the gifts she opened her door and looked out. Seeing the coast was clear she quickly made her way down the stairs, past the door where she had left the others and entered the kitchen.
Drake was sitting at the table polishing a set of crystal glasses. “Ah Mr Drake, just the person I was looking for, I need your help please.”
“Of course Miss, how may I be of assistance?”
“Put the kettle on to boil for me please, we’re going to have a tea party.”
“A tea party Miss?”
“Yes Mr Drake a tea party and we are going to use the tea set I have here.”
“Miss, may I suggest coffee for Mr King and Mr Blackman, neither of them has a liking for tea.”
“Excellent, that’s exactly what I was counting on. Not Steve, don’t get me wrong, I love Steve but this time he’s gonna have to take one for the boys.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Ready?” Aviva asked as she looked over her shoulder at Drake who was holding a large tea tray and sporting a devilish look in his eyes that more than matched her own.
“Oh yes Miss, I’m very ready, shall we…”
“Okay Mr Drake, game on,” Aviva said with a wink to her co-conspirator at which she opened the door with a grand flourish and plastered a huge smile on her face, announcing to the room at large that tea was served. Holding the door open for Drake, Aviva asked him to place the tray
on the end table, positioned along-side the large couch on which Jason was sitting.
Hope caught on immediately as she spotted the tray which contained a teapot, milk and sugar bowls, saucers and the tiniest tea cups she had ever seen, except for when she was a child playing with her dolls. Hope was amused that Aviva was going to make these huge men drink tea, which they both hated, from those tiny cups. Not even their smallest finger would be able to get through the handle of cups. Hope just knew this was going to be fun.
Steve opened his mouth to no doubt refuse the offer of tea and Hope gave him a quick jab to the stomach to keep him quiet. “Just what we needed, you must have read my mind.”
“Mr Drake, would you please pour the tea, Mr King first I think, he looks a bit parched.” Aviva refused to look at Jason although she could feel his eyes boring into her. Drake turned his back in order to obscure his movements as he prepared Jason’s tea. Once it was ready, as per Aviva's instructions, she took the cup and handed it to Jason still not meeting his eyes. Jason refused to take the cup and saucer Aviva offered until she looked at him. Once she met his eyes as he silently demanded, he slowly reached out his hand and accepted the tea cup. Aviva blinked innocently to dispel her laughter as the little cup all but disappeared in his paw like hand. In the meantime Drake had prepared and delivered cups of tea to both Steve and Hope. Turning to Drake, he presented her with a cup of tea and left the room. Aviva had promised him she would fill him in on Jason's reaction to the five spoons of sugar that had been heaped into his drink.
What was the little minx up to this time, Jason wondered. Drake knew that he didn’t drink tea, couldn’t stand the stuff. Looking down at the liquid, he rationalized that it couldn’t be anything harmful as they were all drinking from the same pot, plus it had milk in it, he couldn’t stomach milk. Oh well, he thought, I can drink the stuff, the cup was so small it would only equate to one mouthful and further there was no way on earth he was about to wimp out. A challenge had been thrown down and he had every intention of meeting it. Very aware that Aviva was watching him peripherally, he slowly raised the cup to his lips, never taking his eyes from her face. Just about to take the first taste, Drake knocked at the door to inform him he had an urgent telephone call. “Ah, saved by the bell” Jason said lowering the cup into its saucer, a grin on his face. ‘Damn! This was the most fun he had had in a long time’. The look on Aviva’s face was priceless as her plan went up in flames. Jason grinned so wide his dimples creased his face as he excused himself to take the call.
Chapter 4
Jason and Steve sat in the living room, awaiting the arrival of the women so they could leave for Steve and Hope’s wedding reception. With drinks in hand, the men sat in companionable silence, each swirling the amber liquid of their single malt whiskey, light glistening off the crystal glass. Glancing at his friend Jason broke the silence. “So your last night as a single man – how does it feel?”
“It feels good man, who would have thought, you and me sitting in a house like this, with me getting married tomorrow and to a supermodel no less. After the thing we’ve been through, to be given all this...we’re really blessed.”
“Blessed, if you say so; but I have never been given anything in my life, everything I have, I worked my butt off for, so did you, man.” Jason wasn’t a particularly religious man so he felt unable to comment on that part of Steve’s statement. His belief was grounded in two things: his ability to make things happen; even if some of the things he had done in the past may not always have been, what many would consider sticking to the letter of the law; and Steve, the only other human being in the world he considered a friend, someone he would lay down his life for. When he had sunk to his lowest ebb, it was Steve who had appeared as though out of nowhere and pulled him up kicking and screaming, somehow managing to save him from himself.
“Come on man, you’ve got to believe in something other than yourself. We all need something or someone to lean on from time to time. If we internalize everything we end up making a lot of questionable decisions.” Steve gave Jason a meaningful look meant to remind him of what he had done in the past by way of retribution on the men who had crossed him. He felt no remorse and knew that given the same set of circumstances he would do exactly the same things again. With a shake of his head, Jason relegated the dark thoughts back to the deepest compartments in the back of his mind.
“That’s why I have you my good man, you’re my moral compass, or who knows where I’d be.”
“Whatever man, I’m not always gonna be here Jason; the risks you take sometimes – they worry me.”
“When the hell did you turn into my auntie Gurty? Worry about that woman upstairs that you intend to marry tomorrow and all the little long legged babies you want her to pop out, and I’ll take care of me.” A pained expression passed across Steve’s face so quickly, Jason was unsure if it hadn’t been his imagination.
“You did discuss having children, right?”
“Get out of my business, man.”
Jason felt foreboding settle over him, the fine hairs at the back of his neck rising up, he had learned the hard way not to ignore the feeling. Something wasn’t right, Steve was holding something back. “Steve, have you or have you not spoken to Hope about having kids?”
“We talked.”
“Well, what did she say?”
“I told you already, get out of my business…” Looking at Steve, Jason was aware of the moment he changed his mind and decided to confide in him. “She said she may be willing to have one, later on, when her career was over.”
“But you always said you wanted a big family, you did explain that to her didn’t you? Get mad at me if you want to but, I have to say this…”
“If you know it’s going to make me mad, then don’t say it Jason, you put it out there and you can’t take it back.” Springing to his feet, his agitation clear by the swiftness of his movements, Steve paced over to the bar and poured himself another drink, throwing it back in one gulp.
Turning back, Steve squared his shoulders and from the tension rolling off his large physique, Jason decided to keep his thoughts to himself. Steve was an adult, and as such was more than able to make his own choices – right or wrong. However something had shifted between Steve and Hope. This wasn’t the same smiling, happy-go-lucky man that had gone upstairs to dress for the reception, but it wasn’t his place to pry; if his friend wanted to confide in him, he knew where to find him. Jason just hoped Steve wasn’t making a huge mistake in marrying Hope. There was something about her that didn’t sit right with him. She was an extremely confident woman which was to be expected by virtue of what she did for a living. She was smart, a good conversationalist, funny and very beautiful. She was also one of the most narcissistic and conniving women Jason had ever met.
The first time he had been introduced to Hope he felt as though every comment she directed at him was done in an attempt to gauge his reaction, to size him up for something she had planned for later. Her interactions with him in the first instance reminded him of a documentary he had seen as a child of a lioness stalking its prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce, to devour.
He hadn’t had to wait too long for her to make her move. His mind ran back over the weekend all three of them had spent together months ago. He recalled that a friend of Hope’s should have been joining them but had unexpectedly canceled at the last moment. Jason wondered if the friend had been Aviva. If it was, he fantasized that by now their relationship would have been well established.
Returning to his original line of thought, himself, Steve and Hope were to spend the weekend at his house in Newport Harbor. The house was by no means the most expensive held in his portfolio but it was his favorite. The Mediterranean style architecture and views of the coastline relaxed him, soothed him. When he stayed at that particular house, all the hustle and bustle that were normally associated with his life were left behind. He could relax and be himself, the façade of contentment of all that he ha
d accomplished in his thirty-four years could be left behind, once again being just plain Jason King, the boy who grew up without a family and who spent a lot of time being taken care of by the state. Who would have thought that from such humble beginnings where he had so little, he would own million dollar homes throughout the country.
Steve wanted to expand their company to take on world-wide projects. After a business trip to Italy two and a half years ago he had returned bursting with enthusiasm about the opportunities the country had to offer, sure in the knowledge that their property development business was strong enough to take on the world-wide market. Jason wasn’t so sure, nor was he ready for the commitment such a venture would necessitate. Something other than the development market, currently in a state of flux all over the world, was holding him back from taking the next and obvious step in the growth of their business. The world-wide recession in some cases was the perfect opportunity to make a financial killing, yet Jason still had reservations. He had unfinished business to take care of, business he kept very close to his chest – Steve had no part in this portion of his affairs and he intended to keep it that way.
Steve had not only returned with big ideas of venturing into the Italian property market but with tales of the beautiful model he met in Milan. Jason had heard of her, after all he was a connoisseur of dating models, he liked models; but they were only around as long as they didn’t make demands he was unwilling to fulfill. This was the case with any woman he dated.
He consciously kept up a sort of rotation, illustrating that he was not about to settle down. A few of the women had made overtures of wanting something more permanent. He went into every new affair with honesty. He was not the marrying kind, he didn’t do relationships, if they wanted more, they would have to look elsewhere for that particular need to be met. What he could do however, was show them a good time, he had enough money for most of the women he propositioned to take him up on his offer. Despite entering the affair with all the facts, some women, nearly always the very beautiful ones, harbored thoughts of changing his mind. To date none had succeeded.
Abandoned but Not Alone Page 3