Cafe Romance

by Curtis Bennett

  Almost immediately, she regretted her decision. If only she had not been so bored, sitting around waiting and hoping to hear from Kurt, perhaps she would have declined Antwan's offer. And why hadn't she heard from him? If only she had not misplaced his cell phone number. As for her own cell phone, she had dropped it and had to put it in the shop for repair. Perhaps he was just too busy with his new interest, she thought, sardonically. Then she wondered, what if he somehow had gotten wind that she had caught him with Ms. Thang, as Juanita named her? It didn’t really matter, now. She had a life to live.

  Antwan arrived early that evening, and presented her with a bouquet of roses, along with a warm kiss on the cheek to start things off. He was handsomely dressed in dark brown slacks and a black summer polo shirt and wearing the most charming smile she had ever seen on his clean-shaven face. A shiny gold chain hung from his neck. She was impressed by his gentleman style and romantic overtures, and told him so.

  After dinner the two drove over to the local putt-putt course and played a few rounds of miniature golf, then returned to his place to relax and talk. After she reminded him, a thankful he politely excused himself and went to change his top, which had been slightly stained at the restaurant. The waitress serving their drinks was new on the job. It had all been an honest mistake. Best of all, they got to enjoy their $42 meal on the house.

  When Antwan returned from the bedroom he was wearing a silk-buttoned shirt, which he had not bothered to tuck in. Without skipping a beat he offered her some imported cheese and a glass of chilled wine. Since he was a trusted friend, she accepted. Besides, he would never try anything, she reassured herself.

  The two laughed and talked as music blared in the background. In a matter of time, the combination of music and wine, along with Antwan's conversation, would preclude her from thinking straight. Against her better judgment, she allowed Antwan to coax her into his study, where the mood, and the room lighting, appeared more soft and seductive. While she sipped at her drink, he walked over to the stereo. There was one particular golden oldie he wanted her to hear from his recently purchased CD. Slipping the platinum-colored disc into the CD player he faced her, not saying anything, just smiling. The oldie, Never Can Say Goodbye, by the sultry and soulful Monica, had begun to play when his large hands went up to his top button.

  Yvette stirred uneasily on the sofa when she witnessed this. By now he had unbuttoned his shirt to the waist. "Antwan, what are you doing?" She uttered in bewilderment.

  With a deceptive calm, he softly replied, "Relax, I'm just getting comfortable.”

  Unease settled over her like a blanket as she set her drink aside, stood up, and paced the room. She felt vulnerable and apprehensive. Still, she tried her best not to show it. Without warning, he took her into his arms and kissed her long and hard.

  "Damn, you can’t imagine how much I want you, Yvette," he murmured softly, adding, "And I am hoping that you want me."

  Her head was spinning. His probing kiss was erotic and stimulating. He had caught her completely off guard and this frightened her. Though she protested mildly, he drew close a second time, in an attempt to leave a trail of wet kisses along her warm neck, but before he could complete this phase of his seduction she broke away, her eyes averted.

  "What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, his hand now between her thighs, seemingly enjoying her struggle for self-control. "Antwan, pleaseee, I can't!" She said unconvincingly, now gazing up at him through half-closed lashes. But Antwan was not taking no for an answer, not tonight. He was certain she was ripe for the picking. Experience told him that it was written all over her face and in her body language. This warm and passionate woman had been neglected far too long. Aroused, he told himself, he was just what she needed.

  Feeling embolden he moved against her, this time from behind, letting her feel the shape of his swollen print against her soft bottom. Again, she offered a feeble protest. But it almost didn't matter anymore. To her surprise, a sudden warmth and passion engulfed her from within, and she felt strangely weak, not physically, but in her will to resist him, and to such a degree that she returned to the sofa, guided by Antwan, who had confidently beckoned her to.

  Though the wine was having an effect on her, it was her internal longing to be desired, along with his probing hands, that prompted her to kiss him back, long and hard. In her heart of hearts, she wanted to hold out for Kurt, but after what she had witnessed at the club, it was obvious to her that Kurt wasn’t holding out for her. And what about Kurt? Surely Roxanne would be there for the funeral. Hell, her soft tender shoulder is the one he was probably crying on, she envisioned contemptuously.

  Enough of his problems, she told herself. She felt she had enough of her own problems to deal with. Somehow, she found the strength to continue her struggle, though she sensed this was one battle she was on the verge of losing.

  “Relax Yvette,” Antwan pleaded, sensing her tension and hoping to capitalize on it. “And trust me.” Though every fiber in her body warned her against him, very little made sense to her at this moment, especially what he was doing to her. There was something very different about him tonight. She had never seen this side of him before and she found it strangely exciting, and arousing, especially his conversation, which had taken on a more intimate tone.

  Gazing beyond Antwan’s bedroom eyes she saw a determination she had not seen before and right then she knew there was no stopping him from having his way with her, and the fact that he knew she knew this made her feel that much more awkward, antsy, and girlish in her response to his advances. Not that she was afraid of him or what appeared to be the inevitable. On the contrary, she was more confounded by what was going on inside of herself; the sudden and overwhelming urges, and added to this, the sudden sexually charged atmosphere she now found herself in. And charged it was!

  The sight of his aroused state seemed to magnify her own natural cravings and desires. It had been a while since she last experienced this kind of intimacy with such foreboding, excitement and intensity. Now, she found herself and her senses being revisited by this, almost long forgotten, wave of human desire.

  When she came to her senses Antwan was less than an inch away, trying to melt away what resistance she had left inside with his tender reassuring words. What he said and the way he looked at her was overwhelming. Though she was no viable match for the forces of nature stirring inside of her, Yvette found the strength and courage to pull away. But just as quickly, he closed the gap between them, as he smooth talked her, coaxed her, and coerced her, anything to advance her submission, all the while his hands appeared to be on a mission and that mission was to peel off whatever separated her prize offering from what he had to offer.

  Realizing her breathing had become audibly quick and excited, she found this enough of a reason to pull away from him a second time. She couldn’t resist him and temper her own desires at the same time. In a final burst of willpower, she made a last stand. “Antwan, please...get off of me.” And her eyes meant every word.

  Realizing that she was serious, he slowly backed away and apologized to her. It helped that his phone began to ring loudly. Exasperated, he finally decided to answer it. It was a relative calling to talk with him. Antwan made the conversation brief. He closed his eyes briefly as if to ponder a question. When he opened his eyes, he sat without moving for several seconds, staring blankly through tousled hair. Then he faced her.

  “Yvette, why did you accepted my offer to come home with me tonight I mean, you come here looking all sexy and wearing that tight ass skirt and those smoked colored stockings. Then you get all relaxed and cozy with me, and then you respond to my advances like you’re all hot and bothered…like a tigress in heat, only to leave me hanging like this? You aren’t even wearing any panties. You tell me, what’s a guy to think?”

  With a painful expression, Yvette sighed heavily, her voice filled with anguish. “I’m sorry Antwan if you thought you were being led on. Believe me that was not my intent, nor was it ev
er after coming here with you. I am here because I enjoy your company. And I thought we were the best of friends. I guess things just sort of got out of hand.”

  With his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched forward, he nodded, as if in agreement, and said, “Yeah, I imagine things did get a little out of hand. And that includes me, as well. I am sorry. You probably think I am a dog. Believe me, I’m not. It’s just that you’re all that I ever wanted and desired in a woman and more Yvette. I thought you felt the same way. God, I hope we are still friends? We are, aren’t we?”

  There was a pronounced pause.

  Little by little the bad feelings, along with the tension, began to dissipate. The warmth of their friendship quickly returned. After all, this was all an honest misunderstanding, she reasoned. And a little misunderstanding should never come between good friends. Besides, he was remorseful. That was always a good sign.

  “Sure,” she replied with a smile, as she straightened out her clothes and hair. Almost immediately, he leaned towards her with outstretched arms. With the gap now closed between them, the two nestled comfortably in each other’s arms for a long second, exchanged another round of apologies, then released amicably. Their trust had been restored.

  After she returned home, she sank to the sheet-covered sofa. While she appreciated the attention and the heated atmosphere she had just removed herself from, she knew she had dodged the bullet this time around. Another deep probing kiss, along with his wandering hands and she would have given Antwan more than he ever bargained for or could handle. Sure, she was in need but felt great having gotten out of his place with her dignity still intact. But one particular statement he made to her replayed over and over again. Though she never responded to it, the fact of the matter is that in recent years she had opted to go panty-less on Fridays, and this just happened to be a Friday. It was a feminist practice, of sorts. It gave her a sense of feeling free and sexy and uninhibited. It had nothing to do with him or her wanting to make it easier for him. But she could never tell him or convince him of that.

  The following evening she called Juanita to share with her the latest news-breaking event. The two talked for almost an hour and half. She wanted some advice, guidance and direction. After all, she knew she had feelings for Antwan, she just did not think of them in a romantic sense, as he had. But tonight, Juanita was of little comfort, or advice, to her. Her viewpoint was that Yvette needed to reconcile her feelings for Kurt before she considered leaping into a serious relationship with Antwan.

  Deep down inside, Yvette knew her friend was right, that she had to come to terms with her feelings for Kurt before she contemplated abandoning him for Antwan. And what about Antwan? For the better part of her adult life they had been close friends. To her own surprise, and maybe because of what happened the night before, she suddenly realized how much she cared for him, too.

  Hanging up the phone, she sat back in her recliner, and begun to wonder if Kurt was ever going to make a move on her. Even before Ms. Thang appeared on the scene, whoever she was, she noticed that Kurt had yet to say anything definitive about divorcing his wife, and there was never a hint of a serious commitment on his part, though their relationship had blossomed to the point she knew she felt deeply for him. And who was this woman with him at the club?

  Like the weight of some ominous burden on her shoulders, she felt completely in the dark. Her biggest fear, from the onset, was getting involved with Kurt, only to have him tell her later that he was leaving her to return to his wife. Could the woman at the club possibly have been his estranged wife, down for a reconciliatory visit, she pondered?

  Another week went by. To complicate matters further, Antwan continued to put on a full court press, even to the point of recently confessing, over the phone, that he was in love with her. The man was going for broke.

  Though she had never regarded him as anything more than a friend, she was slowly beginning to see him in a different, more romantic light. And what she saw looked promising, especially now that they had skirted the boundaries of raw passion.

  In many ways it felt good to be back in Tampa, Kurt thought, as he entered his motorhome. On the other hand, there was the situation with Yvette. Though he was tired from his long flight and grandma’s death was still fresh on his mind, he called her.

  “I’m sorry about your grandmother, Kurt,” she began.

  “I tried calling you several times before leaving but was unable to,” he told her.

  “I spent a night at Juanita’s the day you left for Jersey. On top of that, I dropped my cell phone a day later and had to put it in the shop for repairs. Things just were not working out for me around that time.”

  “Must have been Murphy’s Law, you know when it rain it pours, type of deal,” he replied.

  “Must have been,” she answered solemnly, her voice had drifted into a hushed whisper.

  “Well, I’d really like to get with you soon, if that’s alright,” he presented more as a question than a statement.

  “Sure, just give me a call when you find out your schedule.”

  “All right,” he said, his heart feeling a couple of pounds heavier.

  With that they ended their brief conversation.

  Leaning back into the sofa, he reflected on their less than inspiring conversation. He had detected something distant about her tone and interaction with him.

  Days later, after they met for lunch, things still did not add up. Since his return, she appeared aloft around him. Sensing that something was off kilter, he said nothing at first. It could have been any number of things bothering her, he reasoned. Personal things. Still, he expected more from her, in the realm of bonding. Little things that seemed to be absent; such as her prolong stares, her touch, her deep probing interest in him. Even her looks did not quite seem the same. Though she was sultrier in appearance, and dressing more sensuous, with each passing day, she behaved very much like a woman given a new lease on life, since his return. More than distressing, the look in her eyes was not the look he had put there. And that he could not help but notice.

  Reminiscing, he remembered a time her warm hospitality would put him at ease. But of lately, she appeared anything but hospitable. When they got together for an occasional lunch, she said very little. Often times, he’d catch her gazing off into the distance. It was apparent to him that Yvette was grappling with some strong emotional weight whenever around him. There was a look of sadness and concern, not love, in her gaze whenever she found the courage to look him in the eyes. Perhaps she had something on her mind she wanted to tell him and was finding the task rather difficult, he concluded.

  Of the biggest things he noticed was Antwan’s name popping up more and more in their conversations. It was enlightening, in the sense that it made the total picture being painted before him, on the canvas of life, and their relationship, that much more clearer to him. The more she mentioned Antwan's name in conversation, the more he saw Antwan's influence in Yvette's life grow in leaps and bounds, in importance, and in stature. At the same time, he sensed that his own influence and relevance in her life was quickly fading. He also noticed that Antwan was showing up at her office more frequently, and giving him that all too cocky and subliminal victory smile and look. Now it was becoming obvious to him what was occurring. What he observed between them obviously went beyond the bounds of friendship. Her look was more bubbly, lively, and energetic.

  Then it came one day at lunch.

  Biting her lower lip, she said, “Kurt, I’m seeing Antwan.”

  It was out of the box now, her relationship with Antwan. Yet, she wondered why she did not feel the sense of relief she thought she'd feel, once going public with it. Deep in her heart she knew the answer. There was no curtain of mystery to cloud the reality. Inside, she deeply cared for Kurt, and could not deny it. But she knew she would have to get over it if she was going to establish a serious relationship with Antwan. Besides, Kurt was the one who stepped out on her.

  Still,
it troubled her to look into his eyes, and see the hurt and pain stemming from her rejection, though he tried his best to disguise it.

  Turning away initially, deep in thought, his eyes traveled slowly back to her the moment he felt her gaze and heard her soft voice. "Kurt, I'm sorry. I should have told you about Antwan and I. Lord knows, I tried before but I just could not bring myself to go through with it. I was afraid of losing your friendship. Anyway, I hope there are no hard feelings."

  Kurt shrugged, gave her a half smile and said, "Why should what I think make any difference to you?"

  Yvette was swift in her response, "Because I want very much for us to remain friends, Kurt. Look, I still want to see you, do things with you, just to a lesser degree than before. Is there any reason why we can't continue on as friends?"

  "Yvette, I just don't know if I have the answer to that, right now," he replied solemnly, his eyes averted once again.

  Women, Kurt mused thoughtfully. A couple of weeks before Yvette and Antwan were nothing more than good friends, by her own admission. How the two became the hottest item in town in that short span of time was a mystery to him. In many ways he knew that he was the last person to stake a claim on Yvette, at this time. He had failed to pursue her romantically, and with any sense of urgency. For better or worse, he had his reasons for not pursuing her, for not revealing his true feelings to her. But it made little difference now.

  "Look, I'm going to leave now," he said rising up.

  "I’m sorry Kurt. I’m really sorry," she uttered, as she crossed one arm over the other and glared at him, tears streaming down her face.

  "You take it easy, Yvette," he responded, defeat evident in his voice.

  There was a pause.

  "Where are you going? For a walk?" she queried, giving him a deep searching glance, her eyes still moist with tears. She found it hard to remain coherent when so close to him.