November Rain

by Maureen Anderson

  Torri closed her eyes and replayed the moment when Antonio removed his shirt to dry himself. His heavy wet pants hung low on his hips. She slid her teeth across her bottom lip and shifted in her seat. As she recalled, plenty happened.

  “Come back to earth, Torri. Would you like to fill me in?”

  “Sorry, Jazz. I’m just tired. We were up all night catching up.”

  “I know you’re holding back.” Jasmine shook her head. “Look, Torri, I love you like a sister. Just remember Tony ran once and I’m sure he didn’t fill you in on all the details in the midst of your…” Jasmine cleared her throat, “catching up. Its possible he’ll run again.”

  Her friend made a point. Torri sipped on her margarita. Antonio declared that she wouldn’t have liked him much then. He slipped her a subtle hint that he didn’t share every dirty detail. Jazz could really dampen things. However, the romantic in Torri trusted that fate brought them back together. She shook off any worries.

  Jasmine fumbled through her purse. “Is that your phone or mine?”

  The vibration was Torri’s. Hey, babe. Sorry, I have to cancel our plans for tonight. I’ll call you later.

  She stared at the words on the screen before she closed her eyes. She prayed Jasmine was wrong about Antonio.

  “Is everything okay, Tor?”

  “I think the margarita is getting to my head.”

  “Ha. Lightweight. I’ll take care of the bill. By the way, you never told me why Cliff was going crazy looking for you?”

  Finally, the question Torri thought she’d dodged. “I have no idea.”

  Cliff kept the family secret from Jasmine and Torri was grateful.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Antonio tucked the phone into his pocket and drifted toward his car. He wasn’t ready to end his reunion with Torri. Yet, he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking everything was resolved because they shared one night of sublime intimacy. They had more catching up to do. Antonio realized cancelling with Torri probably left a blemish on their remarkable new beginning, but Delilah rarely called him with problems at the restaurant. He needed to figure out how to balance his love life and the restaurants, an obstacle he didn’t mind tackling.

  Until Torri walked back into Antonio’s life, the restaurant symbolized a second chance for him and took precedence over everything. Before it was his, he found refuge behind its doors. When Antonio wasn’t high and partying, he played pool there most nights with his childhood buddies, Jake and Allen. They were the only friends that witnessed his crash and burn stage. They helped him get back on his feet. When the original owner of November Rain, formerly Mickey’s Bar and Grill, offered the bar to Antonio, he didn’t hesitate to invest the money his mother left him.

  He paused, before he grabbed the wooden handle he carved for the door that led to a fresh, new life. He glanced up toward the sign above the restaurant door. November Rain. The moniker became a literal reminder of the rainy night in November when he survived a life-altering car crash. He never expected it to be the such a success or the place that would reconnect him to a precious gem from his teen years. He pulled back his shoulders and grasped the handle. He rubbed his mothers initials centered in the carving.

  “Thank you, mom,” he whispered.

  “November Rain. How can I help you?” Delilah answered the third call in a row and jotted down the reservation request.

  Booking new artist, Teddy Gold, sent November Rain’s dinner reservations for Friday night through the roof. After two days of advertisement, reservations were already close to capacity. Delilah lucked out when she met him at Torri’s gallery opening. He couldn’t resist her charm. Delilah jumped on the opportunity to book him. Since then Teddy Gold’s single climbed into the top ten of the Billboard Hot 100. Delilah anticipated Antonio’s need to boost the staff for the night. She didn’t think anyone would mind.

  Soft notes of ginger and vanilla aroused her. She savored his familiar scent before she lifted her gaze. Her eyes surveyed Antonio’s fit body before they rested on his lips. All Delilah wanted was the chance to show Antonio that she was perfect for him. She adjusted her dress. She flashed back to her morning preparation before she selected her outfit for the day.

  Nearly half of her wardrobe covered took over the queen-size bed including its white wrought-iron headboard. Delilah let out a sigh loud enough that sent her cat running out of the room. Antonio’s limited interaction with her lately disturbed her. She missed the late nights they shared nibbling on the specials the chef left behind for Antonio while they balanced the day’s receipts. Antonio always kept things professional and never openly let on that he had any interest in Delilah. She believed he needed a nudge out of the professional zone.

  Delilah didn’t know why he had any interest in Torri Taylor. She already had a man fascinated with her. Antonio was stuck in the past. Delilah refused to wait for the nostalgia to wear off. She was tired of dating men her age. Most of the twenty-five year old men seemed focused on starting their career or doing nothing at all. Antonio’s age, level of success, striking looks, and his Prince Charming charisma intrigued her since he hired her for the hostess position.

  She frowned over the hurricane that hit her room. After another quick scan, Delilah grabbed a blue and gold Ankara print midi dress. She posed in the mirror and let out a purr. The design accentuated her best feature. She’d caught Antonio watching her walk away on many occasions. Delilah played with the golden-brown curls of her mohawk pixie cut. Pleased with herself, she bounced off to work.

  “Hey Dee. I got here as soon as I could.”

  “Hi Tony.” Her face warmed.

  “New boyfriend?”

  “Please. I’m still very much available.” She stepped from behind the reservation podium to give her a full view of her ensemble.

  “Not for long, I’m sure. So, what’s the emergency?”

  “One of the ovens conked out. I called the electrician five times.” She rested her hands on her hips.

  “That was hours ago. Did you call Jake or Allen?”

  Delilah shook her head for two reasons. In response to Antonio and annoyed that he didn’t seem to take notice of her.

  “Dee?”

  “Jake’s here now. He handled it. I figured since you’re the man in charge I should call you.”

  “Fine, but going forward I want you to get used to calling one of them. I won’t be around as much. I plan to start spending more time at the other locations.”

  Delilah was sure “other locations” was code for girlfriend — Torri Taylor.

  “Why can’t Jake or Allen handle the other restaurants?”

  “Because, you said it yourself, I’m the man in charge.” Antonio reminded her. “Now, what are the reservations like for tonight?”

  “Light. But, it’s a nice evening. I expect plenty of walk-ins.”

  “Good. Confirm my hotel reservations.”

  “Same place?”

  He nodded and walked toward Jake at the bar. Her body tensed. They used to chat for at least fifteen minutes before he went into “boss” mode. His cell rang before he reached the bar. He was close enough for Delilah to eavesdrop.

  “Hey babe. I just got to the restaurant. I miss you already. Are you free to stop by?”

  He paused.

  “It’s okay. I understand. I’m leaving for D.C. in the morning. I’ll call you when I get there.” All smiles, he hung up and floated over to his right hand man.

  Delilah narrowed her eyes and picked up the phone to confirm his stay in D.C. while she calculated her next move.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Popcorn danced wildly in the microwave. A fresh bottle of Chianti was chilled and ready. Torri carried her refreshments to the living room and sat on her lavender chaise, kicked back and grabbed the controller to see what was available on cable. Antonio’s recent trip to D.C. placed t
heir “reunited and it feels so good” phase on pause for a few days; she needed a serious distraction. She was a chicken when it came to horror movies, but she loved them. She selected one she was too afraid to see in the theater.

  Terror gripped Torri thirty minutes into the movie. She almost squeezed the feathers out of the pillow on her lap. She’d already finished her bowl of popcorn and half of the wine. Tired of the torture, Torri stopped the movie and used the same remote to turn on her CD player. She closed her eyes and let Maxwell take her away. Soon at the level of relaxation she aimed for, a knock accompanied by a familiar voice spoiled her peace.

  “Torri, are you there?”

  No matter how much great the temptation Torri couldn’t ignore her mother. Torri opened the door and shuffled back a step. It was the first time she’d seen her mother undone. Her hair demanded a touch up. Her sweatsuit and sneakers weren’t worthy of a trip to the gym or anywhere, for that fact. The bags under her mother’s eyes owned up to sleepless nights. Torri felt bad but her mother brought the misery upon herself.

  Lynette fidgeted with the hatbox before she handed it over. “Your grandmother would’ve wanted you to have this.”

  Torri accepted the purple and green floral box. “Thank you.” She met her mother’s gaze. “Would you like to come in?”

  “It’s okay. I have plans with Sabine.” Lynette headed down the steps toward the main floor.

  Torri trailed behind her mother. Questions raced through her head. What was her mtoher up to? Torri found it hard to believe her mother planned to go out and have fun with a friend. Her outfit contradicted her plans for a night on the town with a friend. Torri suspected her mother used dropping off the hatbox as an excuse to see her. Torri opted to take advantage of the visit and get some answers. She followed her mother to the gallery.

  “Why did you keep my father a secret?”

  Lynette drew in a deep breath. “I was angry and embarrassed. I only ended up hurting you.”

  “Why didn’t you get a divorce and marry my father.”

  “I was afraid. I tried to build up the courage, but surprisingly Cliff’s father was so excited about the pregnancy. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “So, you lied and let him believe I was his?”

  “Torri…”

  Her throat tightened. “Well, congratulations, your little love affair left Cliff and me fatherless.”

  Lynette stared at her feet. “I deserved that. But, I didn’t have time for regrets. I had two children to raise.”

  “Let me ask you this, what if he didn’t show up at my opening, were you ever going to tell me?”

  “Getting to know your father is in your hands now.” She opened the door.

  “Why should I bother? He never did.”

  Lynette adjusted her purse on her shoulder and turned toward the street.

  Torri shut the door and trudged up the steps. She wiped her eyes and sat on the edge of her bed with the box on her lap. Not ready to open it, she set it aside.

  Lynette wasn’t sure if Torri would accept her visit but she tried and she couldn’t go empty handed. She searched for a box she hid in her closet for more years than she cared to count and brought it to her daughter. Torri’s eyes mirrored what Lynette felt in her soul. As much as it hurt, the time apart was necessary for them. It also gave Lynette time to reassess the decision she made more than thirty years ago and figure out how she could rectify things with Torri, if that was even possible.

  After she left the box with Torri , she prepared for her night out with Sabine convinced it would keep her mind off things. Finally back in Queens, Lynette spent two hours at her favorite salon for a French manicure that in her opinion looked incredible. Her spirits were already lifted. Sabine suggested she wear something sexy. She remembered a hot little black number deep in her closet. The dress was that and more.

  Sabine was on time, as always. She leaned on the horn of her little red Mini Cooper convertible, as if she lost her mind. Lynette spritzed on her favorite scent that reminded her of flowers floating in a spring breeze. Before Sabine beeped again, she tossed a fresh pack of cigarettes, gum, her ID and her house keys into a shimmery black handbag.

  “Lynn, what took you so long? I told you I’d be here at nine. I want to make sure we get a good table.”

  Sabine was a bit pushy at times but Lynette didn’t mind. She let her friend rant.

  “Where is this hot spot you’re talking about?”

  “First, let me start by saying you look fabulous. Your legs are amazing under that mini dress. Tina Turner’s got nothing on you.”

  Lynette did her best impersonation of the living legend and they laughed until their cheeks hurt.

  “We’re headed out to Long Island. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.”

  “Let’s go.” Lynette clipped in her seat belt and they were off. The two never spoke in the car because Sabine loved to blast her stereo. A huge Prince fan, Sabine pumped Little Red Corvette from the seven speakers in her pint-size convertible.

  Lynette deduced where Sabine brought her the moment they parked. A flock of scantily clad women lined up outside the club. Another group of women squealed and made their way to the velvet rope, including one with a white veil flowing from her head. Over twenty hot, sexy women, no men except for a hard-bodied bouncer in a tuxedo, signified one thing. Strippers waited on the other side of the velvet rope.

  “Sab, I’m too old to be at a place like this. We’re too old!”

  “Chile, please. You look better than most twenty-five year-old girls I know.” Sabine declared as she pulled down her skintight red dress. The plunging neckline and her swimsuit model figure was sure to get attention. In Lynette’s opinion, Sabine was in better shape than every twenty-five year-old girl she knew. Regardless of how fierce they looked, Lynette was not comfortable.

  “What if someone sees me? I have a reputation to uphold. Did you think about that?”

  Sabine popped the glove compartment and removed two Mardi Gras masks. “That’s what I love coming here. Everyone has to wear one.”

  Lynette turned toward the line. The bridal party waved their masks in the air. Still a bit reluctant, Lynette slipped on a mask adorned with purple feathers and gold glitter. She felt like she was about to play a part in a low budget adult film.” If you tell me we need a password to get in, I’m leaving.”

  Sabine grinned. “Would I do that to you?”

  “I can’t believe you’ve been here before.”

  “All work and no play…” They cackled like two schoolgirls and strutted to the velvet rope.

  After they paid, they made their way through large smoky glass doors into a dim space. Old school music from the 80’s flared from the incredible sound system. As Sabine promised, every woman in the room and the men wore the equivalent of a Mardi Gras mask. Lynette admired the magnificence of each man’s form from afar and up close. She felt like she was in Baskin-Robbins with 32 flavors. The mask allowed her a level of comfort, released her inhibitions. The two friends sat away from the stage but still close enough to catch all the action.

  Lynette bounced to the old school beat that took her back to her party days at the Garage in the village. She pulled out her cigarettes then recalled she couldn’t smoke inside.

  Sabine cleared her throat and yelled across the table. “Spill the beans and don’t hold back. I’ve never seen you smoke in the six years I’ve known you. So, I know this has to be good.”

  Embarrassed her best friend recognized the necessity for the nasty vice meant something major rocked her world, Lynette confessed. “Torri isn’t speaking to me.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Why do you think I did something?”

  Sabine twisted her neck, tossing attitude toward Lynette. “Cause you wouldn’t be so blah, sucking on Newports like your life depended on it, if you didn�
��t.”

  A sexy waiter dressed in nothing but a black bow tie and well-fitted black briefs approached the table with test tubes filled with a rainbow of various liquids.

  “Would you ladies like to try a shot?” His voice reminded them of Denzel Washington -- a naughty Denzel. The rich-tone sent goose bumps up and down Lynette’s back.

  Sabine crossed her legs, pushed out her already overexposed chest, and in effect purred. “What do you have to offer?”

  His smile dazzled. His eyes traveled to her cleavage. “Sex on the Beach, a Red Devil, a Screaming Orgasm, Cummakazi, and my personal favorite, a BJ.”

  Sabine winked at Lynette. “Well, who can turn down such an offer? We’ll take two of each.” Sabine leaned over and whispered to their steamy host.” It’s been a while since my girl here enjoyed any of the above.”

  The waiter followed his cue and placed a test tube with a chocolate brown mixture into the band of his extremely brief, briefs. “This one is called a BJ. You hold your hands behind your back and pull the test tube out with your mouth, and then you throw your head back and allow the sweetness to tantalize your mouth and throat.”

  Eyes wide, Lynette shot Sabine a glare. Sabine returned an ‘I dare you’ look Lynette knew well. She never backed down from a challenge. As instructed, she placed her hands behind her back and averted her eyes from a particularly large bulge, she wrapped her mouth around the tube. Her lips brushed against his incredible soft skin set off sparks where none lived for quite some time. She threw her head back, the sweet, chocolatey liquid coated her throat, and she ached for more. The waiter removed the tube from her mouth.

  “You handled that like an expert. That one was on me.”

  After another round of shots, Lynette remembered what it was like to have fun. She peeked over at Sabine. Her knees bounced.

  “My ex isn’t Torri’s father.” She finally revealed.

  “Oh?” Sabine flagged down Denzel. “This is about to get juicy.”