by Lily Foster
I saw a lot of her mother in her. Now that Kasia and I were together, I was spending more time with the family. Sunday dinners at their home became routine and for a number of reasons, those evenings were very special to me. It was a connection to my parents, to the life I once had, where people sat around the table, enjoying one another’s company, speaking the first language I was ever exposed to, eating food that connected me to them. And Kasia’s family was what every person hopes to have in life—when you were there you felt surrounded by warmth and love.
Your first impression of their family dynamic was of the father as breadwinner and mother as a homemaker, but nothing could be further from the truth. Kasia’s parents ran their business as a true partnership, with Mrs. Mazur making as many decisions regarding finances and new acquisitions as Mr. Mazur did. She was traditional in certain ways but listening to her talk about business made me feel as if I was getting a picture of Kasia twenty years down the road.
Kasia was keeping up the same crazy pace that she had been before, but she was definitely reaping the benefits of all her hard work already. When the shop opened in March, there was a big party with family, friends, her suppliers, business contacts, other local shop owners and some local press. I don’t want to pat myself on the back, especially because the design of the place was all thanks to Kate and Kasia, but the store looked great and I was proud of my hand in that. That night I really couldn’t take my eyes off Kasia. Besides looking breathtakingly beautiful, she just had this way about her. The girl was in control and confident as she spoke to everyone. You had no doubt that she was going to make this a success.
That next week she was contacted by New York Magazine for a story they were doing on Williamsburg. When the issue was released in early May, Kasia was the featured business owner, a large photo of her standing outside the store and then several pictures of the store’s interior accompanied an article about Sweet Betty Threads. The timing couldn’t have been better for her. She had just secured a manufacturing deal the month before so she was prepared for the dramatic increase in orders she was getting from both the website and the increased foot traffic in the store. She hired more employees and seemed to make the transition from college graduate to successful business owner easily.
Our life changed after I was done working on her store. I was running my own construction company now, working at my project sites, which had me in any one of the five boroughs on any given day. Our hours were long but we never went more than one day without seeing one another, even if it meant just having dinner at her parents’ house after work and sitting on the couch together talking for an hour or two afterwards. She would run issues by me and ask my advice on certain things and she was the person I was coming to rely on when I wanted feedback on my business. She was my equal and I could feel us changing from two people dating to two people in a loving partnership. When I looked across the dinner table and saw her father take her mother’s hand in his, or noticed the loving looks that were passed between the two of them, I could feel my heart needing and wanting that.
Kasia
Taking it slow had its advantages.
After that night at my parents when all three of my boyfriends were under the same roof at one time, I was an emotional wreck for a solid week. Jake, who would always have my best interests at heart, put the breaks on us for a while. It was what I needed.
We dated. Tennis and burgers, which was becoming a routine, long walks and coffee shops, concerts, meeting him for dinner after his night classes; there was a lot of talking, lots of laughing, kisses and…that’s it. I still hadn’t seen his apartment and we hadn’t used the upstairs office at the store for anything other than business.
Was my body burning with desire for him? Yes, and I knew there were times when this snail’s pace was killing him too but the anticipation was making everything sweeter. It was the right way to do things. I knew Jake loved me and I knew I loved him. The time spent getting to know one another on a deeper level made the idea of making love to Jake something more meaningful. I wouldn’t say it to him but this was like preparing to be his, for life. I could see myself as his wife, bearing his children, and spending the rest of our days together.
The first time he asked me if I’d come back to his apartment was a full two months later. In the span of those two months so much had changed for the two of us. Sweet Betty Threads was a full-fledged business thanks to the exposure I was getting from magazine articles, web buzz, and the exploding scene in Williamsburg. Jake had passed all of his licensing requirements and was now out on his own as a general contractor. Kate and Luke were generous with Jake, referring all the jobs they could not take on to him, but I knew they did this only because they could; Jake’s work reflected on them and Jake’s work was impeccable. I made sure to reference him any time the store got press and he would tease that he needed to give me a cut of his profits on the retail and commercial space jobs he got as a result. It made me feel good to do anything I could to help him because he was becoming my rock. He always had good ideas and his input on some of the pricing and contract issues I dealt with was invaluable. He also provided me with a constant stream of encouragement and support. In the span of a few months, I’d gotten to a place where I could no longer imagine my life without him.
When he gave me the grand tour of his one bedroom apartment, it was as I expected it to be—neat as a pin. You could see Karolina’s influence in the artwork that hung from the walls and the goofy expression magnets on the refrigerator but this was Jake’s space; nothing out of place, everything perfectly organized, and every square foot of the small space utilized in the most efficient manner. It made my eyes tear when I saw that, even though Kara was only home for school breaks, her girly-decorated room remained closed when she was away; Jake had been sleeping on a pull-out sofa bed for the past six years.
It was probably because I was burning with lust to begin with, but in that moment, the love he had for his sister and the sacrifices he’d made for her made me want him all the more. I wanted to snap open that pull-out couch and show him just how much I wanted him. But no, Jake had more sweet, slow torture in mind.
Jake sat next to me on the couch, taking my hands in his face, kissing me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I shifted to sit, straddling him and within five seconds I could feel his body react to me. Thank God for the warm March weather we were having because I was loving the feel of the him with only the friction of his jeans between us; the flimsy fabric of my skirt that I’d hiked up removed another barrier. I wanted no barriers. I kissed him and couldn’t help arching my body, pressing harder into him. He didn’t stop me or take control to set a slower pace. He used his control to kiss me deeper and used one strong hand to tug both of mine behind my back as he used his free hand to roam over my body. Just the touch of his fingers grazing over my breast, through the fabric of my blouse, had me whimpering and moaning for more. He pulled back for a second and gestured to my clothes when he said, “Let me see you, Kasia,” in a soft, yet commanding tone. His voice turned me to liquid.
I didn’t say a word but inside my head I was doing cartwheels and singing at the top of my lungs. Finally, I thought, I was going to feel what it was like to be with this man. I was so needy, I felt swollen and wet. I stayed in his lap as I slowly pulled my top over my head and then waited a minute to let him gaze at me in my bra. I was so happy in that moment that I chose my best one for today because Jake looked like a man who hadn’t eaten in days when he took me in. When I undid the front clasp and slid the straps down my arms slowly, I never took my eyes off him and he never took his eyes off my tits as he said, “Oh damn, Kasia.” I watched as he took one and then the other in his mouth, sucking, kissing, and gently tugging my nipples until I was literally in pain from wanting him so badly.
“Please,” I pleaded, “Jake, I need you.”
“I know, baby,” he whispered as he continued the slow torture of kissing me and touching me. He reached behind me and pulled my ass u
p so that he could slide the skirt and my panties down and I was more than eager to make the job easier. I shimmied out of those in seconds flat. I was in his lap, totally naked and he had all his clothes on. It made me feel vulnerable, like I was his to do with as he wished. And damn, I was ok with that. When his hand slid between my legs I let out a cry, the sensation of his sucking my breasts and touching me there had me coming undone quicker than I ever had. And after I had a few seconds to regain my sanity I knew I had to have more. He kissed me tenderly after I looked to him for unspoken consent before I undid the buttons on his shirt and pushed the fabric aside. I’d seen his bare chest several times at work but now this was mine to touch. Jake was all rippling muscles and smooth skin. My hands slid lower and now it was his turn to moan as I eased him out of his jeans and tight boxers. He was a sight to behold and I was like a woman possessed. I needed to taste him. I kissed down his torso and moved my naked body down to kneel in front of him. I looked up at him as I took him in my hands and in my mouth and his head fell back and he gripped my head gently when I took him in fully. I loved hearing him moan and whisper my name, as if no one had given him pleasure like this before. He warned me before his release but I wasn’t having it, I kept at it and took everything he gave me. We both cleaned up then and when he went back to the couch instead of getting dressed, he shucked off his clothes entirely and laid me on top of him, lined up from head to toe. He ran his hands over my back and bum and I could feel him hard again for me already. “Kasia, I love you.” He smiled then and teased as he ran his hands over my ass and gripped me closer to him, “I love your ass, I love your tits, I love your mouth, your very talented mouth.”
I wanted him. I shifted my body up a bit so that he was pressing against my entrance. I wanted to say, “Fuck me, Jake, fuck me hard,” but, yeah, I didn’t think I should be breaking out the dirty talk on day one. I didn’t want to scare the poor boy off. I went with, “I need you, Jake, please.”
He flipped us over in one smooth movement and he was above me, lowering his head to worship at my breasts again before he went lower still and then my head was thrown back as I was gasping in response to what he was doing to me. Jake was like my own personal orgasm machine, he could make me come inside of a minute the way he worked me. I was louder than I think I’d ever been; I’m sure the entire neighborhood heard me screaming his name. Then he snaked his way back up my body and without much warning, he’d slid on a condom and plunged himself fully into me. Talk about being worth the wait—Jake filled me and took me, alternating between gentle and powerful. When he came I could feel him pulsing inside of me and I didn’t want to let him go as he went to pull out. I didn’t want to break the connection. As I held his hips close to me he looked down at me and whispered, “I’ll never get enough of you, Kasia.” Ditto, I thought dreamily, too wiped out to actually speak.
Jake
I didn’t feel like it was summer, as I’d been working non-stop. Now it was me farming out jobs to other guys who worked as my project managers. And as Luke had with me, I mentored some of my best workers, priming them to go out on their own one day.
Between jobs, keeping my eye on Kara as she worked her first real nine-to-five job in the city, summer interning at one of the big accounting firms, and spending every spare moment I had with Kasia, my life was full in the best possible way.
Kasia was busy too but she managed to make me feel like I was her number one priority. It’s hard to explain but even littlest things she did sent me the message that I was loved, truly loved. Her expression when I walked into the shop, her studio, or her house always made me feel like she was overwhelmed with happiness at the sight of me. Do you know how good that feels? To have someone look at you like that, to respond to you in that way? When we were at her family’s house for dinner, I would notice her heap extra veggies onto my plate. When I would look over to her and smile, she’d shrug and say something like, “You eat too much meat.” When she did things like that, cared about what I ate, bought me gloves that she read somewhere protected your hands in sub-zero weather, or sent Kara care packages at school, it brought me to my knees. I loved her, I knew that, but it was like I could no longer imagine my life with anyone else.
I was ready to marry her yesterday but I wanted to be able to provide her with everything. I was graduating with my bachelor’s in engineering come December, just one more semester to go in what was nearly a decade-long college education, and it was important to me to have that degree before I proposed. I also needed a new place to live.
In my business, the opportunity to find distressed real estate was always there. Lately, I’d been making this a priority and had looked at several places in Brooklyn. Kasia’s dad had come with me a few times, sometimes joking that he’d try to outbid me if the property was really great. I wanted his opinion on structure, neighborhood details and that sort of thing, but I also wanted his unspoken approval, which he gave to me. He knew, without me saying it, that I was looking for a place where Kasia would want to live.
When I found a brownstone in Park Slope in September, I knew I’d found our home. It was the one dilapidated, eyesore on this stretch of Sixth Street, amid well-kept houses on a tree-lined street where kids rode scooters and played outside. The school nearby was one of the best in the city.
The place would need to be gutted completely and would probably take me the better part of a year. With Mr. Mazur’s guidance, I negotiated a good price and was working with Kate to draw up the plans to apply for permits a week after the closing.
I hadn’t told Kasia yet. I was unsure about how I should go about this. Would she be angry that I made such a big decision without her? How could I really consult with her on it, though? I’d only been officially dating her for nine months and buying a place, for us, seemed a little presumptuous on my part. I decided that when I showed it to her, I’d gauge her reaction and if she didn’t react the way I hoped she would, then I’d lose nothing by keeping the place as an investment property or flipping it.
As I walked through it again with Kate one afternoon, though, it was if I could picture the way it would be. I could smell food cooking, I could hear the sweet voices of a toddler calling out and a baby babbling, and I could see my beautiful wife walking down the stairs towards me.
Kasia
Sometimes I had to pinch myself. It was all happening so fast. As I made my way down Madison Avenue, on my way out of a follow-up meeting with a buyer from Barney’s, I was walking on air. Trent, he was a one-name only kinda-guy, gushed over my planned resort wear and spring designs when he’d visited the Williamsburg store last week and today made a commitment to carry the line. He told me he had been following me for at least two years and as proof, pulled out one of the first dresses I’d offered on my website. I was floored.
This deal, if it happened, would catapult me into a different level. Once Barney’s started carrying the line, other high-end retailers were within my reach. Sweet Betty Threads could become a recognized name as a result. It was exhilarating and frightening at once. There was a strange comfort in being smaller and lesser-known; a simple store, a simple life. This kind of move could change my life drastically. Did I want that?
Lost in thought, I didn’t notice them until I ran smack straight into Mrs. Cole and Melanie Pierce. I was still bubbling with excitement from my meeting and my positive energy was still on high, because my reaction didn’t match what I truly felt for either of these women. “Ohmigod! Hello!” I think I basically chirped.
“Oh, Kasia, dear. How are you?” Mrs. Cole’s voiced dripped with sympathy. It registered immediately that she was only aware that Dylan had been caught cheating and she probably thought I was a devastated, jilted girl.
“Kasia, you look fantastic.” As usual, Melanie gave me the head-to-toe once over and was giving me her approval on…what, my outfit, my body? Who knows? Over time, my feelings towards Melanie had softened, especially now that I was no longer with Dylan. I didn’t want to be friends with
her, we wouldn’t be meeting for lunch ever in this lifetime, but even hearing that Dylan had cheated with Melanie didn’t make me feel anger towards her now. People like Melanie and Dylan were very different from me. I reasoned that if she could give him everything that he needed, then I hoped he could be happy with someone like her.
There wasn’t a bone in my body that felt a need for revenge or negativity where Dylan was concerned. More than having once loved him, I always did, and always would, truly care and want what was best for him.
There was an awkward moment before I replied to them both. “Thanks and I’m doing well. How is the magazine going, Melanie?”
“I’m done there. It wasn’t for me.” Working in general wasn’t for girls like Melanie. “I’m too busy traveling between here and D.C. to see Christian. I’m thinking about designing jewelry.”
I cringed when people said things like that, as if you could be a jewelry or clothing designer without any artistic background or anything remotely related to experience. “That sounds great, Melanie. Good luck with that,” I said in the most sincere tone I could muster.
I hadn’t heard from Dylan besides a text congratulating me after the feature in New York Magazine. I was sure I would have seen him at Darcy and Tom’s wedding and I agonized over that. I didn’t want to hurt him by bringing Jake as my date but I also didn’t want to hurt Jake if I decided to go solo. I decided to bring Jake and was going to reach out to Dylan beforehand until Darcy told me that Dylan had to decline due to a major crisis involving one of their European subsidiaries. He told Tom that he had to be overseas but I couldn’t help thinking that he just didn’t want to run into me. There were still a few uncomfortable moments that day, as some of his friends from Connecticut didn’t know we’d broken up. Fielding the few, “Where’s Dylan?” questions, as Jake stood by my side, was all sorts of awkward.