Fatefully Yours

by Misha Anderson

  How? When did the thieves robbed my house and, even more important, where were the security guards that they didn't see this happening?

  Felipe yells for my cook, Maria das Dores, and asks about the security service. Das Dores stumbles on her words, facing me with eyes wide-open.

  "Das Dores, what the fuck happened here? Where was the security guards when the house was robbed?" I mumble, holding the rubber arm of the wheelchair firmly. "Were there too many of them? Is that why they didn't react?"

  Das Dores keeps looking at us mutely, then she looks at Felipe.

  "Maybe it's best if I spoke you, Mr. Felipe, in private. Mr. Klaus is just coming home from the hospital and shouldn't get angry," she says quietly.

  Me, angry? And why is she talking about me as if I’m not next to them?

  "Das Dores, I'm right here. Can you just tell me why the hapless security people didn't react to the robbery? Why haven't they called the police, were there a lot of robbers?"

  "Wouldn't you like some tea, sir? I just made some fresh coffee, just the way you like it, Mr. Klaus."

  "Tell me now, Das Dores, don't try to defend those useless guards. How many men were there?"

  Das Dores hides her face in her hands, crying like a baby and I ask her to calm herself, until, still hiding her face she tells us in a low voice.

  "A... a woman, Mr. Klaus."

  "A single woman was capable of orchestrating this level of robbery?" Felipe covers his mouth and I widen my eyes, connecting the dots, not wanting to believe what I just heard.

  "A woman?"

  "Ms. Cláudia. We couldn't stop it. She came with a lawyer, told us Mr. Felipe had given her permission to take everything that was hers. She said that she had the right of half of everything that was here on account of how long she was engaged to you sir. She came with a moving company and left an hour ago. How am I going to cook now that she took the stove also? Here, Mr. Klaus, she asked me to give this to you."

  Felipe takes the envelope and I stretch my hand so he can hand it to me.

  "Give me that, Felipe."

  Until then the Indian girl was quiet, looking at my empty house with a look of pity on her face. Felipe shakes his head, standing in front of me, with the envelope in his hands.

  "Give me that fucking thing," I yelled louder. “Here. In my hand, Felipe."

  Felipe finally hands the envelope over.

  I open it trying to disguise the shaking in my hands.

  A short note, with fake pretty handwriting, just like the character of its owner, made everything clear.

  Dear Klaus, I think it's best if we go our separate paths. I took some of the stuff that were mine by right, let's avoid unnecessary legal proceedings, in deference to the good times we had together. I wish you health and good luck.

  Your friend, Cláudia.

  Friend? Tramp, bitch, cow... The swearing in my head gets louder and louder and suddenly I realize I'm screaming. Anahí comes closer and talks loudly with Felipe, making all of us go silent.

  "Let's go. The more time he stays here, the more stressed he'll become and that's not good for his health. For now this house doesn't have the infra-structure to help Klaus. Get us a hotel for a few days."

  Felipe walks away to the balcony to try and find a hotel in short notice. When he returns he speaks directly with Anahí, again ignoring my presence.

  "I got the hotel figured out. You're staying at Leblon Requinte Residence, a building near here. They've rooms set up for wheelchair access. Now I'm going to have to figure out the house situation."

  I raised my arm, grumbling.

  "Hey! I'm right here, Felipe." Anahí turns to me.

  "Right now, your concern should be your health. Let Felipe handle these problems, sir," she says quietly.

  "Anahí is right, Klaus," Felipe nods, trying to comfort me.

  "I can deal with this. Leave it to me and tomorrow at the most your house will be ready to welcome you back."

  "That's impossible," Anahí disagrees, pointing back at the stairs.

  "The house will have to undergo some renovations. You'll need to make some changes to the house so Klaus can move around in the chair easily. I can come here tomorrow and check everything that needs to be done and make a list for you, Felipe."

  Four years, four years dragging a failed engagement, in a dirty exchange of interests: I was the fiancée of the famous top model Cláudia Martins, posing for magazine covers, envied by all Brazilian men, and, in exchange, I accepted her continuous absences, her shallowness and excessive ambition, her indifference, and discreet cheating. I hold in my hands the result of our years of my life. I clear my throat to disguise the choking in my voice.

  "Let's leave this shit."

  I turn my head when we get into the car, furious about having to be carried like a baby by Danilo, my bodyguard.

  When we get to the apartment, Anahí knocks on the bathroom's door when she hears me having an argument with Renato, a black man the size of a boulder that was hired as my live-in nurse.

  "You're queer, aren't you? I told you that I can clean my own dick. You're going to have to find somebody else's dick to hold, dude! You can't touch mine, I don't like men."

  "Any problems, Mr. Klaus?"

  "No problem, as long as this guy doesn't insist on touching me, everything will be fine."

  Renato frowns.

  "I'm married, sir. And happily so. I'm just doing my job, helping you take a bath, and if you don't collaborate I can't finish," he says in his gravelly voice.

  Before the damned bath is over, I’m yelling again, at my limit.

  "Fuck it, take you hand off my ass. I'm paraplegic, not dead yet. Try to grab my ass again and I'll punch your teeth in, dude."

  Renato stomps out, leaving the bathroom's door wide open. Anahí comes in, hands over her eyes.

  "Are you dressed?" she asks.

  "Yes."

  When she takes her hands from her eyes, she quickly turns around.

  "Didn’t you say you were dressed already?" she grumbles.

  "I’m still naked, but because of you I'm putting on boxers."

  Ha! Little Indian girl, there's no use in pretending that you didn't like the view, I caught you looking, you little naughty one!!!

  Even having lost some pounds with being hospitalized, he’s still a very attractive man, and it’s hard to not try and catch a second look... Thick thighs, six-pack, and a broad muscled chest. His white boxers leave little to the imagination, even without being aroused you can see that he fills up his boxers well. Klaus is a big man. My eyes rake over his semi-naked body, a sudden desire. Our eyes cross and Klaus's lips curve in a slight smile. Asshole!!! He covers his mouth so I don't see him smile and my face burns with shame when I realize he's having fun with my embarrassment.

  "Is it finished?"

  "What, sir?"

  "Your inspection?"

  "I wasn't looking at you, I mean, I was looking to see if you were dressed, but not in the ways that you're thinking, sir. I'll just wait right outside."

  "If you want, you can stay here too. I'm good."

  "There's no need, Renato will help you get comfortable in bed. It's best if he sleeps in your suite, at least for today.

  "The only way me and that dude are sleeping in the same room is if I'm dead. You can tell him to take the room next door."

  "But if you need something during the night."

  "I'm sure you're just as capable of helping me, no?"

  Anahí is silent for a few minutes, unable to look at me.

  "Fine, only today since it's your first night. I'll ask Renato to get you settled in, and I'll sleep on the other bed. Okay?" She says finally.

  I nod, smiling.

  "You can sleep wherever you want as long as your wardrobe stays far away from me."

  Renato settles me in bed, I slap his hand when he tries to tuck me in.

  "That's enough, you can leave now, man."

  Renato leaves, and I'm alone in the bedroo
m with Anahí.

  She goes to the bathroom, coming back dressed in a large t-shirt, hitting her at the knees.

  "No nightgown or pajamas, huh? Where’s women’s femininity nowadays?"

  I had to be rude to hide how it made me feel seeing her so comfortable... And gorgeous. The perfect sight of hair, a compact mass of long strands, straight and black all down her back, barefoot, her toned calves and the start of her curved thighs were a delicious invitation to any man, even if I insist the sight of her curvy hips and the delicate curve of her breast don't cause any kind of discomfort.

  "I think in the same place as men's chivalry, sir. Good night."

  "Good night, Anahí."

  Torture? A fitting word to describe today, especially after Cláudia's betrayal. I look at the girl sleeping on the next bed and I think the best path to follow is to keep as much distance as I can from all women, specially from the sharp-tongued, full-lipped Indian girl that's sleeping next to me, filling the bedroom with her soft and exotic fresh forest fruits scent.

  CHAPTER 5

  ANAHÍ SARAÍBA

  "Hit, no, it's going to hit, noooo!"

  I wake up before dawn with Klaus groaning while in the grips of a nightmare. He took forever to go to sleep, in uncomfortable silence, painfully lost looking at the note his ex-fiancée left him. Now I hear him groan, a harrowing moan, a mix of pain and anger.

  I get up and sit on the edge of his bed, trying to wake him up gently. My heart clenches as his eyes open wide, tears running down his face. It bothers me to see this man, usually fate's master, with a promising future, look at me, completely broken.

  "Klaus, are you okay?"

  His lips tremble. Anger? Sorrow? Maybe a little bit of one and a lot of the other. If I was in his position, I'd probably feel the same way.

  "What do you think? What do you say? Paraplegic, my house was ransacked by my bitch of a fiancée, actually she dumped my ass, so ex-fiancée I should say. Alone in a hotel room with you, girl, and unable to do what I've wanted since I saw you. I've definitely had better days."

  I stand up. "My name is Anahí, Mr. Klaus. Not little Indian, girl, or chick. Just Anahí," I tell him, with no fear of being forward. "Can't you just call me by my name? I know you're going through a difficult time..."

  "Difficult? Difficult is breaking a nail or losing your boner. I lost my fucking legs, I lost my furniture, I lost four years of my life with a bloodsucking tick. There's nothing difficult about that, it's a steamroller going over a hapless person," he says, voice growing brittle, and I think the only reason he's not crying is that this tough-dude pride is all he has left.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to wake you up from the nightmare you were having, but it looks like I shouldn't come near you." I get up, but before I can sit back in my bed, Klaus stops me.

  "I'm sorry. I know your name's Anahí. I'm just an ass. Thank you for waking me, gir–... I mean, Anahí."

  "It's okay."

  There's a seriousness in his eyes. "Is it?"

  "Uh-hum." I nod.

  Klaus uses his arms to sit up on the bed.

  "Since we've made up and everything is okay between us, come sit next to me," he says, tapping the mattress.

  Sit next to him? "Why?"

  He shrugs and his face softens.

  "So we can chit-chat, drink some beers, gossip, count sheep together. I've no fucking idea. Just keep me company, yeah?"

  I move nearer his bed and his shy smile makes me hold my breath. My analytical mind can’t understand how someone can be such a pill and so sexy at the same time.

  Klaus taps the mattress again and throws the covers so I can sit next to him. I awkwardly sit next to him and decide counter his arrogance.

  "And pray tell me what have you wanted to do since you met me, Mr. Klaus? Jump down my throat?"

  Jump down your throat and nibble on it, then drag my mouth even lower on that tanned skin that intrigues and incites.

  Is it warm, soft, fragrant? This girl provokes so much curiosity in me.

  And who knows maybe I could find my way between her breast, which I'm sure would fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. And go lower and lower... Until I found paradise in the triangle between her thighs, positioning her wide open just for me, gathering her warm flesh to me, and fuck her repeatedly, until we fall exhausted in this cold, hard bed...

  Curse it! I need to show a modicum of dignity, I'm almost drooling on this girl. What is happening to me? She's just a woman like many others. Fine, she's more exotic than most, with those plump uneven lips, perfect for biting. But she's my fucking therapist, by-the-rules, uptight, and probably cold as fish in bed.

  I know that what she arouses is no more than male curiosity, it's not like I actually want to have sex with her, taste her... It's just thoughts because I'm feeling vulnerable, living hell on earth right now. That's it, right?

  I nod, agreeing with something I'm not sure what as I'm still hypnotized by the vision of her open lips, as if a hungry mongrel dog at a butcher shop. I make a fist trying to resist touching her skin and finding out if it's as soft as I imagine, if she'd shiver at the brush of my lips. I give her a totally out of place smile and Anahí finally relaxes next to me.

  "Since I'll be awake the rest of the night, why don't we talk for a while?" She proposes.

  Talk? No! Talking is bad, I'm awful at talking about myself. What can I talk about? The shallowness of my life and those around me? My problems with the family? Never mind that nonsense, no talking little cabocla!

  "I'm not very good at that, but I can give it a try. What do you want to know, girl...sorry, Anahí?"

  What the hell was I thinking sitting next to Klaus? Hide.... Can I hide the way he affects me? The way he makes me feel? Feeling out of place, anxious, and wishing for something I’m not sure what it is, but it’s certain inappropriate. I look at my hands, trying to pretend I can't smell him, his masculine scent, yearning for him to use his big, long-fingered hands all over my body. Just thinking of his touch make me hot, unsettles me.

  "Did you hear me, Anahí?"

  "Huh?"

  "Talking. As in one of us says something and the other answers. Was that not your condition for spending the night with me?" He scratches his chin, trying to explain. "Spending the night but not like it may sound, not you, like, literally naked in my bed. Fuck, I mean talking! This is why I said I wasn't any good at this, I'm sorry if it seemed like I was talking about something else. Forget all the shit that I said.” He takes a deep breath. “Now, tell me about yourself."

  After a few minutes of awkward silence I tell him about where I come from, my half-European, half-Indigenous blood, my joy when I earned my degree in physical therapy with a specialty in sports. He listens closely and then tells me about his career as a F1 driver and I could tell that it hurt him to talk about it, however temporary the interruption of the pursuit of his professional goals. He glosses over it and changes the conversation, asking me about Sara, his businessman's girlfriend.

  "How can you be friends with that unbearable woman?"

  "She's a good friend, even though we're pretty different."

  "Different? You guys are like oil and water, complete opposites."

  I wonder why Klaus says it like that. Am I that bland?

  "Why so different? Because I'm not sophisticated like Sara?

  "Authenticity. You're different and you're not ashamed to be genuine. Sara is shallowness made flesh."

  Red light. Do go that way, Klaus, what were you thinking complimenting the girl? Now she's going to think you want her, desire her, that you're captivated by her, and that's just a big nonsense. So shut your mouth and let her talk about whatever she wants. Women love talking, just pretend you understand the depth of what she is saying and smile, smile and nod, they like it... According to my friend Felipe, I know nothing about women.

  Differently than what I expected, Anahí stops talking and after a few minutes of comfortable, soothing silen
ce she goes back to her bed and falls asleep. I lie there, awake, thoughtful, and with my heart empty. Feeling... It doesn't come naturally to me anymore, nowadays I'm the shadow of the man I was two months ago. I close my eyes, unwilling to entangle myself in the magic that surrounds this puzzling girl. Trying to forget the two pieces of unresponsive meat that took my manhood and stuck me on this bed.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and a bothersome anguish gets a hold of me when I think: why look at her if I can never have her?

  CHAPTER 6

  KLAUS SCHNEIDER

  I feel no need to wake up quickly, a soft scent awakens me slowly and as soon as I open my eyes, the first thing I see is Anahí walking towards the windows, wearing a knee-length white dress, towel-drying her wet hair. Her lips slowly curve up in a lazy smile, and my usual bad mood shatters into tiny little pieces.

  Anahí opens the windows and the sunlight hits her white dress, outlining her curves and storming into the room.

  "Good morning, Klaus. Did you sleep well?" She asks me with a useless enthusiasm, back still turned.

  "Mm-hum, and you?"

  "Very well, thought the bed was a little too hard."

  If you’d slept on me you would've been more comfortable, little cabocla.

  "What is it, Klaus?"

  "Huh?"

  "You're smiling funny."

  That's embarrassing! I frown and holding my weight with my arms, sit up on the bed. "Nothing, just a stupid dream."

  "I took the initiative and ordered breakfast for you," Anahí says walking over to me. "Since I wasn't sure what you liked, I ordered a little bit of everything. Is that okay?"

  "It's fine. I eat almost everything. I'm just not a fan of fruit."

  The twist of her lips was a silent reprimand.

  "Then we're going to have to work on it. Eating fruit is healthy and you need to improve your diet, Klaus."

  "So now along with being my therapist, you're also my nutritionist?"

  She laughs, flinging her hair back, and nods.

  "Nutritionist, psychologist, therapist. Unfortunately, you're going to have to put up with my meddling, Klaus."