“Are you expecting someone, sir?” he asked, pausing in front of Jon’s chubby form. For a fleeting moment, Jon’s hopes soared. Maybe this man can help me! Maybe she just missed her flight!
“Yes. Her name is Marika Darabos. Could you check if she missed her flight for me?” But the tiny man shook his head ruefully.
“I doubt it, sir. This flight was completely full. There were no stand-by seats available. I know because my sister wanted on this flight.” Jon nodded and choked out a thanks to him. Shoulders sagging, he glanced one last time at the frosted sliding doors. When the remained firmly closed, he turned away, dejected and depressed.
That means she came, took one look at me and fled. I am destined to be alone. I can’t even buy love, he told himself mournfully. His phone was buzzing in his pocket and a surge of excitement flowed through him. He had given Marika his number but as he glanced at the screen, he saw it was Tristan phoning. His impulse was to let the call go to voicemail but he knew that his sister was concerned about him. You are the older sibling. Don’t let Tristan worry about you. Answer the phone and act normal.
“Hey sis,” he answered with forced cheer. “How are you feeling? Puking up a storm yet?”
“Good, Jon. No morning sickness so far. How are you doing?” Jon shrugged at the question and blinked, swallowing the bitterness in his throat as he pushed out of the terminal into the cold. He paused, momentarily confused as to where he had parked. His head was a jumbled mess.
“I’m great, Tris. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to call and say hi.” There was a slight pause before she continued. “I wanted to apologize for Jordan on Christmas day.”
“For what?” Jon was perplexed.
“What he said about you finding someone. Don’t listen to him. He comes across as an ass but we just want you to be happy, Jon. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”
“I didn’t take it any other way,” Jon assured her, trying to keep a cheerful note in his words. The roar of an airplane above his head kept him from hearing what Tristan said next.
“Sorry, what? I didn’t hear you,” he told her.
“Where are you? What’s that noise?” she asked.
“At the airport,” Jon replied without thinking. He cringed as the words left his lips.
“Are you away on business?” Tristan questioned, sounding surprised. Jon seized the opportunity.
“Yes! I am!” he chortled, ecstatic that she had given him an out. If the family believed him to be away on business, they wouldn’t bother him for a few days. The thought was nothing short of glorious.
“Oh, I didn’t know. I’ll let you go. Call me when you’re back in Connecticut,” Tristan told him.
“Okay, sis. Give my niece or nephew to be some ice cream and Addy a kiss for me.”
“Okay, Jon. Hey Jon?”
Someone was tapping on his shoulder and Jon held up a hand as another aircraft flew overhead, again blocking Tristan’s voice.
“What? Tris?”
“Excuse me…” there was another tap on his shoulder and Jon whirled, annoyed to face the intrusion. His jaw dropped as he saw the woman who was demanding his attention. Her long blonde hair was cut stylishly short and rested just above her shoulders, a flattering contrast to her tight, black sweater. Her brow was furrowed but it did not distract from a set of clear sea green eyes and her wide mouth was puckered into a fine line. As Jon’s eyes travelled down the woman’s shapely bosom, to her curvy waist, he realized she was modelesque, at least five ten without an ounce of fat on her stunning body. Her jeans and sweater were high quality and obviously pricey but Jon did not recognize the brands.
“I gotta go.” Jon hung up the phone and stared at Marika, his pulse racing. His mouth did not seem to know which direction to take, going through a variety of movement and finally settling on a weak smile.
“I am very sorry to bothering you, sir but I thinking you are Jon?” Her thick accent flowed musically into his ears and he found himself nodding vigorously. Awkwardly, he leaned forward to embrace her in a hug. She seemed taken aback by his gesture and impulsively stepped out of his grasp. Horribly embarrassed, Jon let his arms drop, a deep flush washing over his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, stepping back but her expression seemed to mask his as she quickly jumped forward again. They seemed to be trapped in an uncomfortable dance. Jon realized that anyone watching them would think they were idiots.
“No! It is I who am sorry!” she declared, throwing her arms around the hefty man. “I was…how do you saying…surprised? I am Marika. I am happy to knowing you, Jon.”
They shared a gentle hug and departed, each one sizing up the other for the first time as new friends. Jon looked around and saw she did not have any luggage.
“Where are your bags?” he asked. Marika shook her head ruefully.
“The airline has losing them,” she told him. “It is why I am late. I am sorry you were to waiting.”
Jon shook his head, relieved that the explanation for her tardiness was simple.
“We will locate your luggage,” he assured her. “But we can do that later. You must be exhausted from your trip. Let’s get you home. I can stop somewhere on the way to pick you up a change of clothing and some toiletries in the meantime.” Marika nodded but Jon had the sense that she did not understand half of what he said. It doesn’t matter, he thought. It will take some time to get through the language barrier. I will pick up some Hungarian to help her along.
After some investigation, Jon finally located his Ford Escape in an obscure parking garage which he did not remember leaving his car.
“It never fails,” he told Marika as he held open the passenger side for his lovely companion. “Airport parking lots are designed to make you forget where you park. I think they unleash something into the air so you purposely leave it longer than you intend.”
Marika smiled but again, Jon realized that she did not comprehend what he was saying. He silently vowed to speak more slowly and use smaller words. He backed out of the spot and glanced furtively at Marika. He couldn’t help but notice the slightly tense look on her face. Of course she looks stressed. This is completely new to her. She is in a strange land with a strange man. I have to do everything I can to make this transition smooth and comfortable for her. She caught his stare and offered him a smile. The gentle upward curl of her sultry mouth sent flutters through Jon. She is much more beautiful than I expected. Her picture did not do her justice. In fact, she doesn’t resemble her picture very much at all. She is gorgeous! He remembered his earlier fears that she was an old man and grinned to himself. Beside him, the lovely woman turned to watch the scenery outside the window. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as she willed herself to breathe. He seems like a nice man, she told herself. I did the right thing by coming here. Maybe he will be an ally in all this. I hope it doesn’t blow up in my face.
They made a stop at Westfarms Mall on the way back to Jon’s apartment and despite Marika’s protests, Jon purchased almost an entire wardrobe for her from various stores. Inside Ambercrombie and Fitch, the fourth apparel place they visited, Marika finally threw up her hands in exasperation.
“I am not needing for all this!” she declared as Jon pulled another pair of size two jeans off the rack. He was surprised by her protests. As the hours whizzed past, he was already getting a feel for her low maintenance personality. She was nothing like the woman he had been expecting. She was seemingly uncomfortable by Jon’s spending.
“You have no idea how long it can take for an airline to locate your luggage,” Jon replied calmly. “It is better that you have too much than not enough.”
“It is too much!” she insisted. “No more, please, Jon. You have already do enough for me.”
Jon arched an eyebrow at the statement. What have I done for you? He wondered. Aside from buying her ticket, there was nothing that she had asked for and Jon thought of the other women with whom he had briefly exchanged
messages. He was sure that either one of them would not have argued the shopping spree. More likely that they would have maxed out my platinum cards, Jon thought wryly but he reluctantly agreed to stop purchasing clothing.
“We need to make a quick stop at CVS for toiletries,” he told her. Her puzzled expression told him she did not understand the word. Jon make a brushing motion with his finger.
“A toothbrush? Maybe a hairbrush? If you want, we can get make up,” he told her but he had already learned by studying her face, that she was a natural beauty. He was captivated by her fair beauty. She seemed to radiate a glow of confidence and innocence simultaneously. He could not pinpoint what it was precisely about Marika but staring at her lovely profile from his peripheral vision, a sense of calm and peace stole over him. She is almost otherworldly. She has a spiritual quality about her, Jon thought, watching her expressions in fascination. He had never been in the presence of anyone so captivating. She nodded somewhat uncertainly, not wanting him to spend more money but knowing she needed personal items. He had no way of knowing that her luggage had not been mixed up in some inflight mishap. She had left home with the clothing on her back in the middle of the night, but property had hardly been her concern at that time. Initially, she had intended to take the ticket, landing at Bradley International Airport without ever meeting Jon just as he had feared. From the airport, she was sure she could find her way to New York City as had been her plan along. She had waited behind the frosted sliding doors in the terminal, watching as he stood, eagerly awaiting her arrival. She found herself becoming antsy as he refused to move from his spot as if he were a tree rooted in place. Give up and go home, she thought with some annoyance. You can find yourself another desperate European bride. She felt contempt toward him at first, irritated by his need to recruit an unsuspecting woman from overseas. Why can’t he find himself an American woman? Are they all disgusted with him? As the crowd thinned, he remained there, a hopeful expression on his face and while he could not see her, she could slowly see the optimism fade from his dark eyes when she did not materialize. Guilt began to overtake her anger with this man as minutes passed yet Jon did not falter, his neck still straining to look beyond the doors, confusion overcoming his face. A stab of shame pierced her heart. You cannot do this to him, she told herself. She had been expecting a pervert, someone leering and aggressive but she sensed a gentleness about this man, a deep loneliness and she had an almost psychic affinity toward him. She recognized something of herself in him, despite their physical differences. It was as though something in his soul was reaching out calling to her. She felt momentarily lost, weighing her options in her own mind. Sighing, she decided that she would minimally introduce herself to him. You have nowhere else to go and no money. If he ends up being more than a gentleman, you can simply leave, she told herself, making the decision. Another voice in her head laughed at her. Oh? Is it that simple? But she silenced the thought and stepped forward, activating the double doors with thigh high boots. To her surprise and somewhat distress, Jon was no longer standing there in wait. She looked around, almost frantically. Which way did he go? I waited too long! Out of the corner of her seawater eyes, she watched him slowly ambling toward the exit, his ear pressed to his iPhone. He was out of earshot but she could see his lips moving in conversation. The stunning blonde waited for a moment, questioning her next move before briskly walking after him, the expensive leather of her boot stiletto tapping against the tile floor. She made her way into the cold, winter sunlight and almost smiled. People scurried through the drop off zone, shivering and wrapping their arms about themselves. You people have no idea what cold feels like, she thought, relishing the crisp air against her face. It reminded her of home and for a strange moment, she felt a stab of nostalgia, longing for the little village in which she had been raised. She shook her head to clear her head and she stood, watching Jon as he spoke into his cellphone. She caught bits and pieces of his conversation and heard the forced cheer in his voice but his face told a different story. She found her heart sink as she realized that she had caused this man hurt. You owe it to him to introduce yourself. He has done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment from you. The tall woman moved forward before she could change her mind. It was then that she tapped him on the arm.
“Marika? Marika!” Jon’s voice shattered her reverie and she turned to look at the man. He had pulled into the parking lot of the drug store and was expectantly waiting for her to undo her seatbelt.
“Are you all right?” he asked with some concern. She is having regrets about being here already, Jon thought as he looked into her bright, wise irises. I am coming on too strong. I am scaring her off. I should have listened to her when she said she didn’t want me to spend any more money. Some women get turned off when men do that. I have to tone it down. I hope I didn’t screw it up already.
But Marika returned his smile easily, quickly dissolving his overthinking into a puddle of happiness. I must remember that my name is Marika now, she thought.
Chapter Four
Marika flowed into Jon’s life seamlessly. The days seemed to meld together in a happy, mellifluous state, filled with gentle banter and the tender excitement of getting to know a new partner. They began to learn each other’s sense of humor, their likes and loathes and before either one realized it, they had become best friends. At first, Jon had been extremely wary of Marika, reading into every word she said, trying to determine what she wanted from him but as the weeks began to pass, Jon saw no sign of deceit in the woman. The opposite seemed true. They stayed up late into the night, talking and laughing. Marika loved to cook and suddenly Jon found himself eating healthy, delicious food.
“You’re a natural!” he declared one day. “You can throw anything into a pot and it comes out tasting amazing. How do you do it?”
Marika shrugged modestly.
“Back home, vee learning the cooking early. Our mother to teach us how to cooking ven we are just children. Vee take pride in the food making for our man.” Jon had felt himself blush like a schoolboy at the thought of being her man but he did not push the issue and vowed to take things very slow, lest he scare her off. He knew that it was old fashioned but he found it endearing that she wanted to look after him. I want to look after her too, he thought. I want to keep her with me as long as she will stay. His hopes were not high that she would remain in his life but he refused to allow his mind to venture in that direction. I will enjoy her as long as she is here. I will not allow dark thoughts to ruin the little time I have with Marika.
The third week after Marika had arrived, Jon had to fly to California unexpectedly to meet a client.
“Come with me,” he had begged. “Everyone who comes to America wants to see California!”
“I do not meaning to offending you, Jon but my motherland is much more beautiful than fake American city. I have no interest in to see Los Angeles. It too big and busy for me.” Surprised by her low desire for the promise of glamor of glimpses of famous people, Jon reluctantly left for his business trip, a deep sense of foreboding gnawing away at his guts. She is not going to be here when I come back, he told himself as he boarded the 8 a.m. flight for LAX. His trip was scheduled to be three nights and four days and three times on his way to the airport, he almost canceled. He wanted to run home and be with Marika but his deeply seeded work ethic won out. I can’t let my business fail. It will be the only thing I will have left to hold onto once Marika decides she is finished with me. The first two days passed slowly and while he maintained contact with Marika constantly throughout, he could not shake the feeling that she was stringing him along, making him believe that she would still be there, doting on him when he returned. His idealism had been soured by his experience with Simone and Amber but he could not help but feel cautiously optimistic with Marika. She had never given him cause to question her intentions, no matter how he tried to uncover her reasoning for being with him. Jon had not pushed the issue of intimacy with Marika, setting her up in her ow
n bedroom and allowing her privacy. She had rewarded him with gentle kisses on the cheeks and had recently began giving him nightly massages despite his protests.
“You are very stress,” Marika had argued, pulling his shirt over his head. Feebly, Jon tried to argue but in the end, he had found himself face down in the double bed in his room, being kneaded almost expertly by Marika’s surprisingly strong hands.
“You see?” she demanded, straddling his boxer shorts, her long, legs tucked upward. “Your back is hard like rock!”
Jon did not want to tell her that his back was not the only thing hard. Think of something asexual. Think of ostriches. Think of Joe Pesci. Think of what Chris would say if he could see this scene right now. He would say, “Hey lardo, how much did you pay for this?” But even with Chris’ mocking in his ear, Jon could not help but melt under the sensuality of Marika’s warm touch. As she continued to knead the knots in his back and neck, he found himself wishing she would kiss him but the rubbing never led to anything but Jon being able to move his neck a full range of motion, something he had been hard pressed to do before.
Romance: The Bad Boy Affair: A Second Chance Romance Page 15