by Rosie Praks
“Hunter, my darling Hunter,” his goddess said. “You’ve found me.”
“Yes, my mysterious goddess. I’ve finally found you,” he replied.
His mysterious goddess, she was so beautiful and so sweet that his hand shook when he parted her hair to reveal her swanlike neck. Then he kissed her there, gentle, small kisses along the nape of her neck, until she offered him a soft moan.
He couldn’t control his desire for her anymore. He wanted to tell her, needed to tell her of this feeling hiding inside his heart. So he placed his hand underneath her chin and slowly turned her around, only to come face to face with—
“Clarice?”
“Shit!” Hunter cursed, jolting wide awake, his pores covered in perspiration and his heart beating like African drums. “Not again.”
It was that dream again. Since he’d arrived back from Queenstown, he had been continuously plagued with that dream of chasing his mysterious goddess, her calling out to him to find her. Then when he finally found her, it was only to find out his mysterious goddess had somehow transformed into Clarice, the avocado.
It was always the same every time he woke up. That sweaty feeling that made him feel horrible, those bed sheets drenched in his perspiration, and the feeling of tiredness and exhaustion, like he’d been running a marathon in his sleep.
In his dreams, there were many variations of his goddess, from her wearing a white dress to a red dress, with her having her long hair cascading down to her waist or her hair styled in a chignon. Even the scenery changed according to her dress, from her being in the woods to her on the beach and in the cities. But the concept nonetheless remained the same; he would continuously chase after her.
Hunter rubbed his sleepy red eyes and two weeks of stubble. Horrible. That was the word he would use to describe himself. Horrible and awful. He felt like a caveman. The dream was definitely wearing him down. He had to do something about it. And to top it off, he hadn’t been home for over two weeks. His dad and Anton had been calling him constantly to visit their estate in the North Shore, but he preferred to stay hidden in his townhouse in Central Auckland.
The dream wasn’t the only thing that was to blame, though, although it did play a part in his facial appearance and lack of energy, but the other reason would be Caroline. She had called him constantly since they left Queenstown, and here he thought she was a quiet, subtle girl. She was like a stalker, tailing him at every turn. Thank God she didn’t know where he lived; otherwise, this house would be infested with her scent again.
God, that perfume, Hunter thought. He almost gagged every time she came near. It was so powerful that it literally bashed all his little olfactory receptors to death. His poor receptors would require days, or even weeks, to recover. Although, he must admit if he could smell that perfume from twenty meters away, he could always make his escape just in time before she reach him.
He shook his head and scuffled his hair again. It was getting longer. Maybe he needed to cut it. He took the hair tie out of the top drawer and tied it up in a ponytail atop his head, then got out of bed, remembering that today he could not avoid going into the hotel, since Anton wanted to see him for some sort of meeting.
He’d been in the other day when his best friend Fern decided to surprise him with the news that she was pregnant with his baby. He knew that could never happen because he’d never had any intimate relationship with her, but it sure affected his dad and Winton. But he guessed the person who immediately took a strong disliking to Fern would be his traditional, old-fashioned cousin Anton. He wondered what Anton would say if he knew Fern was at their hotel for the duration of her stay, which was a good two months.
After feeling somewhat refreshed by that cold morning shower, Hunter was all ready to face the day. Before he left, he picked up his cell phone, then flicked it open and stared at his wallpaper.
“Avocado, what are you doing to me?” he asked, then closed it again and went to his red Ferrari and drove to Silverton Hotel. Except he didn’t get as far as his garage when the head of his nosey neighbor, Macy Beanstalk, came out of her house, intercepting his path.
“Why, good morning, Hunter darling,” Macy greeted her neighbor. “A fine day is it? Would you like a muffin?” She came over to lean on the fence that separated their territory and offered him some of her baked goods. If that fence didn’t exist, Hunter was sure she’d be on his front doorstep by now.
“No thanks, Macy.” He smiled. “Have to hurry. Got to meet Anton over at the hotel.”
“Oh, sweet and sensible Anton. He is such a hard worker, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is.” Hunter was glad everyone looked up to Anton.
“And you? The captivating Casanova? Have you caught any new female species yet with those lasso looks of yours?”
My business, Hunter wanted to tell her. But he couldn’t, so instead, he just smiled and said, “None.” Then he dashed off before she could question him more about his life or offer him her homemade muffins again. If Macy were to continue to eat any more muffins, Hunter was sure she’d needed to change her last name from Beanstalk to Muffins.
Safe now that he was in his car, Hunter drove for a bit when he suddenly slammed on the brake and stopped, not because he ran through a red light or anything. It was just… it was… God help him, was he fantasizing again? Did he dream about her so many times that she just ended up appearing in front of his face now? God… it-it’s that avocado. And what the hell was she doing caressing her lips like that on the sidewalk like she was in some sort of trance? Oh shit! The image of that kiss with Clarice came back into his mind again and his heart began sprinting wildly.
“My goddess, where are you? Stop my thinking about this avocado. I need to see you again.” Hunter slumped his head on the steering wheel as if begging his goddess to appear before him. After some time of calming his heart rate, he glanced back up and—
“Shit! She’s still there. The avocado,” he growled. There was no use getting away from her.
Hunter looked heavenward, asking why must he see her now when he was still in his confused state.
Disgusted at his own reaction to this woman who he had clearly vowed he would never fall for, Hunter slammed his foot on the accelerator and, without looking at her still in her delirious state, tenderly touching those lips, he zoomed past her.
A few more minutes of driving had him stopping again. He parked in front of a park and sat looking at the children playing with their parents, their voices echoing with laugher, seeing but not seeing, hearing but not hearing because he was lost in his own world. For once in his life, he hadn’t a damn clue as what to do next.
Shit, what was wrong with him? He cursed himself. And what the hell was wrong with her? What the hell was she doing in his neighborhood anyway?
He asked himself these questions again and again, but he could find no answers. There was only one way to find out. And without even realizing what he was doing, he ignited the engine again, pulled his gear into reverse, and did a U-turn.
Chapter 21
Worrying isn’t going to do you any good, Clarice told herself. And neither was chewing her lips, because at the end of the day, they would just be swollen and ugly. But she just couldn’t help herself. What if she didn’t conceive? It was only one time.
Should she ask to sleep with him again? She knew all the symptoms of pregnancy and she hadn’t experienced any yet. Then again, it hadn’t been over two weeks yet. She was scheduled to meet up with Anton today to discuss the presentation she was going to give to his elderly guests. She wondered if he would talk to her about that night, or even if he could remember at all.
A sudden cough from her car drew her attention away from her mulling thoughts.
“What’s wrong, Red?” she asked. In reply, her car just continued to spatter and cough.
Was it playing up? Oh, please, don’t play up now. Not when she was already halfway to Silverton Hotel.
“No, no, not now, Red. Why must you get sic
k now?” Thank heavens it wasn’t a busy road and she was able to park on the curbside just before it released a final hacking cough. Sadly, Red died a sudden death, smoke drifting from its bonnet.
“I just took you for your six-month checkup. They said you were fine, and now you do this to me? Just when I need to meet Anton too,” she grumbled and stepped out of the car.
She lifted the hood and more smoke came billowing out. She stood back before it could make its way into her lungs. Once it dissipated, she went back to look at the engine. She saw all the wires and containers, but having no knowledge of cars, she just couldn’t diagnose the problem.
“What am I supposed to do with you? Replace you?” she asked in frustration. But inside, she knew she could never replace her beloved Corolla, or Red, as she so lovingly named it.
She had bought Red during her final year of dentistry, after working so many different jobs, as a kind of reward for finishing her degree. Now, almost eight years had passed, and Red was still with her, through thick and thin, through sadness and happiness. She had money now, which could easily afford her a brand new car if she so wished it, but it was the sentimental relationship she had with Red that had stopped her. Red meant a lot to her. But looking at its condition now, with its brand new door—some unknown person had crashed into her a few months back—and its sickness, she wondered just how much longer her Red would last.
Sighing with resignation, she checked her whereabouts with her cell phone GPS and found it was an hour walk to Silverton Hotel. Deciding a car would be better, she decided a taxi should pick her up, but first she rang her car insurance company to have Red picked up. Once all that was done, she phoned the taxi company.
“Hello. This is Efficient Taxi. How may I help?” she heard the operator say.
“Hello, I would… Hello… Hello?” Clarice looked at her phone and wanted to drum her head against poor Red’s bonnet. Oh dear heavens, why didn’t she charge her phone? Just when she needed to call the taxi too. She’d never been careless like this before, well, before coming back from Queenstown anyway. Lately, she seemed to miss so many things.
Glancing at her wristwatch, she saw she had but an hour left before her meeting with Anton.
She glanced around. The scenery looked picturesque, like the houses from The Stepford Wives, starring Nicole Kidman. This was Herne Bay, the suburb where the rich lived. Dear heavens, it was exactly the same suburb where that Casanova Hunter lived. She just hoped she wouldn’t meet him today, what with that kiss he’d imparted on her that she just couldn’t stop thinking about it. If he were to appear, how would she face him?
She could still remember the feel of his lips resting upon her own, so soft, as he tasted her, teased her, as if searching for something. She touched her own lips, tracing her index finger softly along. Yes, right there, those lips touched hers right there, so silky smooth, so velvety, like the taste of a plum, ripe and juicy, deli—
“Clarice, stop it right now.” She lightly slapped herself on the cheek when she realized she was fantasizing about Hunter. “Why are you fantasizing about that Casanova kissing you? Why are you comparing Anton’s kiss to that Casanova? Start walking now.”
Yes, she should start walking. Walking was good exercise. It makes you fit and strong… like that Casanova, so big and strong and… and… that kiss… ahhhhh, so sweet. He was tormenting her, but she liked it.
Clarice gently caressed her lips again, not realizing she was doing so, until a car zoomed past her, snapping her out of her delirium.
Clarice, start walking, you airhead. It brings about positive energy. With this said, she smiled as she made her way to the hotel. Always have a positive outlook on life, she told herself. That was how to succeed in life. But her outlook on life wasn’t all that positive some ten minutes later when she moaned, groaned, and constantly stopped at every available bench to rest her feet.
“You stupid heels. Why do I continue to wear you?” Clarice moaned again when she felt the ache intensify. It was definitely a curse to wear heels, especially when one had to walk.
Feeling she couldn’t tolerate any more, she took off her shoes and walked on bare feet instead. It felt much better, but the hot concrete began to bruise her soles after walking for another five minutes.
There’s no winning, is there?
Just when she was putting her heels back on, she heard a loud honk blasting her way.
“Oi, Avocado?” The shout was followed by another honk. “Out and about on a warm sunny day? What are you doing in this part of town?”
Clarice turned to see Hunter, his head sticking out the car window like a dog testing the wind, his ponytail flying against the cool breeze.
When did his hair get this long? Then she smacked herself and gritted her teeth. Why was she even thinking about his hairstyle? And she wasn’t in the mood to see him today.
Hunter’s heart thumped heavily as he drove closer to her. Once he got next to her, he pretended there was nothing wrong with him and started acting like the jerk he always was.
“Well?” he asked when Clarice didn’t react. “Are you going to bite your tongue today?”
“Piss off, Hunter. I’m not in the mood to see you today,” Clarice said, staring ahead.
“So will you be in the mood to see me tomorrow, then?” Hunter asked cheekily.
“Piss off. I don’t want to see you tomorrow either,” Clarice said as she continued to walk faster, ignoring his persistent comments.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked, concerned when he noticed Clarice wasn’t in her usual playful mood. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”
Of course I’m not glad to see you. That kiss he’d imparted still left her wanting more. But of course she didn’t say that. Instead, she said, “Nothing. So will you please leave?” Then she motioned him away with her hands and walked faster.
But Hunter didn’t listen. He just kept on following in his car.
Clarice had had enough.
“What do you want?” she snapped, turning toward him. “Stop following me.”
Hunter stared at her, wide-eyed. Clarice had never snapped at him before. Well, not in that serious tone of voice anyway. This really concerned him. Was she affected by that kiss too?
“Where are you going?” he asked seriously, driving slowly to keep to her pace.
“None of your business.” Clarice fumed. She didn’t want to be any more confused—
Crash!
Clarice was so busy thinking about Hunter’s kiss that she didn’t look where she was going. In turn, she tripped over a crack in the concrete and now had even managed to twist her ankle. What a stupid idiot!
Hunter opened his car door, leapt out, and was cradling her in three seconds flat.
“For Christ sake, Avocado, would you watch where you’re going?” Hunter shouted in fright and concern. He’d never been that afraid before. He thought his heart was about to leap out of his throat. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“I don’t know,” Clarice answered. She was too shocked to react, as she was now within Hunter’s embrace. And it felt like… like… Anton’s hugs, when they were together in Queenstown that night.
“Here, let me help you.” Hunter was about to lift Clarice when she pushed him away.
“What are you doing?” she asked when she woke from her shock.
“Lifting you up so I can look at your legs properly.”
“I don’t need your help,” she said. “I can get up myself.”
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
Hunter stood back and folded his arms, watching the woman who thought she could get up without his help. It looked as if she’d injured herself quite badly. And he hadn’t even finished thinking about it when Clarice almost fell over backward as she tried to stand.
“Clarice!” He wrapped his arm behind her before she toppled to the hard concrete again. “Why don’t you let me carry you?”
“No. Don’t carry me. I can walk!” she shouted in panic.
&nbs
p; “Goddamn it. Don’t be such an annoying woman. I’m not going to kiss you, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
Oh shit! Why did he have to mention that?
Clarice swallowed. Now with him this close to her, she couldn’t think of anything else.
Hunter could feel Clarice’s trepidation. He knew she must have been thinking about that episode too.
“Wind your arms around me,” he said instead. “I’ll put you inside the car. Then I’ll have a look at that foot of yours.”
This time Clarice was obedient, letting Hunter do his job. Once he placed her in the backseat, he lifted her left foot so it rested on his bent knees. He started folding her trousers back and feeling for any broken bones.
“Owww! That hurts,” she cried.
No, she mustn’t cry in front of this kid. He was a kid after all. By seven years. But a single tear slid down her cheek. The pain was so unbearable. Then she felt a soft hand flick away that teardrop, and she opened her eyes, coming face to face with Hunter. Her breath was immediately knocked out of her chest and in that split second, she could feel the tension weighing down upon her, constricting her lungs, preventing her from inhaling enough oxygen.
“Does it hurt?” Hunter asked softly, dropping his eyes to her ruby pouty lips.
Clarice couldn’t answer so she just nodded and looked away, taking deep, slow breaths.
“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Hunter asked.
Oh, no, she must go to Anton. She had a meeting with Anton today. She must see him.
“No. No.” Clarice shook her head. “I should be fine now. Could you let my foot go?”
“Wait, not yet. I’ll check if your soles are all right first.” Then Hunter proceeded to remove her heels gently.
“Jesus, Avocado!” He swore when he saw her soles covered in blisters. “What the hell did you do to yourself? Why are your feet blistered?” Then Hunter lifted her other foot and removed the other heel. “For Christ sake, and here you tell me you can walk? What did this?”