I take one step back and smile mirthlessly in the design. “Is this what you've been reduced to, Mitch? Painting broken hearts on the wall?”
Still, I continue. My hand has a life of its own. The picture flows out of my mind. It develops from a simple heart to an intricate painting by the time the sun has risen again. I’m exhausted as the golden light falls on my creation. Sweat is dripping from my hair and the smell of the alkaline paint has given me a headache.
I don’t want to be reminded of those times, but my head is heavy like I’ve been stoned all night.
Sometimes I do wish I wake up and find out that all my life has been a drug-induced nightmare and that I’m back at being young and innocent. But then, shit like this thing with Heather happen and I'’m reminded that life is worse than the nightmares.
Nightmares are but short glimpses of hell; life lingers around and makes the hell a reality.
I sign the painting and slowly return all the paint buckets inside my studio. Suddenly, the sweet smell of freshly baked bread comes from Heather’s bakery. My stomach growls but there’s nothing I can do to fix this.
I just have to sleep and the nightmare will end.
Chapter 6
HEATHER
Oh boy. I don’t even know where to start. One moment, Mitch and I were yelling at each other about who is right and who is not, and the other minute he was fucking me against the wall in the bakery kitchen. And the fact that it was the greatest sex - with the man I was secretly adoring - I’ve ever had doesn’t make things easier.
All morning, my hands are moving mechanically. My body is here, but my mind is next door. What was he doing last night? He didn’t return to his apartment until early in the morning. The sun was already out when he did. I know because I was just getting ready to go downstairs. I guess, he has been working all night on something. I thought of going next door to check on him, but it’s better that I didn’t.
I’m late with baking the bread for today, and Frank will be here in a short while. I have no excuse, and being the friend that he is, he’ll pick up on my secret in seconds.
“I can’t allow that to happen. It was a mistake on my part that I didn’t walk away when I had the chance. Now, I have no excuse.”
The moment I end my sentence, the doorbell rings and Frank walks into the shop.
“Good morning, Heather,” he says. He’s less vocal than usual.
“Good morning to you too, Frank. What’s wrong?” I say as I pop my head through the kitchen to check up on him.
“I’ve passed outside your neighbor’s studio. Have you seen it?”
“Seen what? His shop? I see it every day. What’s wrong with it?” I ask him.
“You haven’t seen it, yet? Then, I suppose you have to see it before we continue,” he suggests.
Without waiting for a confirmation, Frank walks out of my shop and straight to Mitch’s. It takes me a moment to realize he wants me to follow him. I take off my apron and rush behind him.
“Well, here it is. That boy certainly has a talent,” he mutters.
As I first lay eyes on the painting on the wall, my heart skips a beat. I never thought a man could create something so beautiful in just one night and with no help. And yet, Mitch did it.
“Wow...” I say.
“Wow indeed,” Frank continues.
I turn around and look at him. “I think I’ve done a mistake. I kicked out a man with feelings so strong that he poured his heart out on this wall.”
The painting starts from a broken heart and expands to different scenes of his life. An open book with monsters coming out of it; colorful pictures that end up in soulless people; a happy family on one side and an abandoned child in the middle of it; everywhere I look, it’s like I’m peering deep into his soul.
And all I’ve done since he arrived is spit and kick at it relentlessly.
“Heather, it wasn’t your fault. He’s talented, I get that, but this only strengthens your position. Mitch will be able to survive somewhere else. His business would never kick off in this town - people here are not into tattoos that much,” he says.
“Screw this town, Frank. Screw this town and us ruining it. Where did our manners go, Frank? When did one of us take a second to talk to Mitch and befriend him? I only cared for my business, but why didn’t anyone stop me from harming him?”
The questions come out of my mouth rushed as a tangled mess of emotions and words. Frank doesn’t reply to me. I’m not in the mood to say anything else, as well. I’ve become the spitting image of the people I hated. I’m like that snobby lady from a few weeks ago that had never shopped from a different bakery because of...reasons.
“Frank, I must stop him before he leaves. I can't allow for this to happen, not when I know the truth. That man deserves the chance for a better life. Can you please take care of the bakery until I return?” but I don’t wait for his confirmation.
I run all the way to the front door of his apartment. I spend a moment to catch my breath and think what I’m going to say to him. Obviously, I should apologize. Then, I should tell him that I can help him build a clientele like Frank did for me when I first arrived here. Then, I should--
Suddenly, the door opens; a half-naked Mitch is standing on the door. He looks surprised when he realizes it’s me.
“What are you doing here, Heather?” he asks.
Shit, he’s so handsome I can’t focus. Look away, Heather. Look away. His arms, all the way to his neck, are stained with dried up colors and beautiful tattoos. He’s wearing a pair of black, tight boxers, and his hair is ruffled from the sleep.
“I... I came to apologize to you,” it’s the only reasonable thing that comes to out of my mouth.
“Too late,” he says and pushes the door to a close.
However, I lunge myself towards him to stop. “Please, listen to me. I don’t want you to go,” I sputter.
That seems to do the trick; he freezes in his place and slowly opens the door again. When his divine body is on full display again, he moves to the side to let me in. I pass by him and enter into his apartment.
“Look, I know I sound like a crazy person to you, especially after everything I’ve put you through, but I was wrong. I misjudged you and let the small-town mindset to take over me. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be so petty, but...but these things get to you eventually. You want to expand your business, for the people to love you, and to have more customers. However, the only way to do that is to become like them.
“I thought that I’ve had it under control, but when you appeared out of nowhere, you messed up my plans of expanding. I hated you for that, but now I realized that I was hating myself more for not being decisive enough. That’s why I want to apologize to you, Mitch. I want to ask you to stay here and I’ll do my best to help you.”
When my speech is over, I have finally regained control of my breath. It feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off my chest. Now he knows the truth; now, it should be easier for him to decide to stay.
Only that he didn’t. “I’m sorry, Heather, but I’ve already decided to leave. This whole dream to open the tattoo studio here was a stupid idea. I have no money left, people here don’t like me, and I won’t allow myself to fall again to the self-pitying hell. Still, thank you for apologizing. I didn’t know that I would, but it made me feel better.”
When he’s finished, he simply turns around and walks to an old couch. Before he’s too far away, though, I grab his arm and make him turn back.
“I love you,” is all I can say. I put my hands on his cheeks, I stretch and kiss him. He didn’t expect that, so he jerks back, but a moment later, he returns my kiss with an even deeper one.
We kiss for a while, long enough for him to get a hard-on. When I open my eyes, I see his tight boxers stretching by his extended manhood. With a simple glance and a smirk, I get on my knees in front of him, my face at the same height as his dick.
“This is for last night,” I smile.
&n
bsp; “Heather, no--oh! Shit, that’s good,” he moans.
My lips envelop the red head of his hard dick. The skin of his shaft is soft yet tense; his ball sack is hanging low, his balls turning from satisfaction. I start up slow, using my tongue to travel to every inch of his penis before getting the whole thing in my mouth. It’s big, bigger than I remember from last night, so it makes me choke at first.
But soon, everything changes. “Yeah, like that. You’re...oh....you’re so good.”
I continue sucking his cock for some time until he starts thrusting it in and out. He’s fucking my mouth hard, my saliva exploding all around his dick, getting mixed with his precum. I use my hands to cup his butt and try to set up the rhythm of this moment.
After a few more minutes, Mitch can’t take it any longer. “Baby...Heather, please stop. Stop or...God...I’m coming.” After one long, tensing moment, a thick stream of cum floods my mouth.
I swallow everything and clean up his cock after that. When I raise my eyes to look at him, I see the eyes of a changed man.
I get on my feet and kiss him. He pulls back, laughing. “It’s salty.”
“Well, get dressed up then and follow me downstairs. I have a spare cake we can enjoy.”
After that, we both burst into laughter.
***
It has been half an hour since I left my shop in Frank’s hands. When I return, he’s absolutely furious. “What in the world, Heather? Are you out of your mind? I’m late to my work,” he yells at me.
His shouting is cut short the moment he turns to see Mitch right by my side. “I'm sorry, Frank. I really had something important to do,” I say.
It takes him a moment to reply. “I...no problem. I’m sorry for yelling at you, but you vanished just like that. You could at least have given me some instructions” he says.
“Yeah, you’re right. But...I think it was some kind of epiphany. If I didn’t leave the moment it came to me, I would never do.”
Frank nods at me and then looks at his wristwatch again. “I’m sorry, Heather, but I really have to go now. We’ll talk again later.” He rushes out of the bakery probably afraid I might leave him babysitting the bakery again.
Mitch turns and looks at me in wonder: “What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing. The whole town just learned that we’re together.” I freeze. After the words are out, it’s too late to turn back. “We’re together, right? Are you staying?” I ask him.
He shrugs but retains his smile on his face. “I don’t know. I want to, but I have no money and no work. I hate to admit it, but I think I was overly optimistic believing that I could open up a tattoo studio with the limited budget I had. I think I would have failed either way,” he says.
That moment, a customer gets in. “Mitch, can you go back to the kitchen for a moment? I’ll be with you in a sec,” I mumble.
It takes me some time to tend to the client’s order, but then I rush back to the kitchen to talk to Mitch again. He’s standing next to the cake I talked about before, doing something to it.
I sneak up on him, intending to surprise him, only for him to manage to surprise me, but in a totally different way. “What the hell? How did you manage to do that so quickly?” I say.
By using different food coloring and whipped cream, he has decorated the whole cake to look like a professional work. It looks beautiful.
“Well, in my line of work, I have to work fast and efficiently so the people I ink aren't in so much pain. I suppose that the basics here are the same.”
A brilliant idea comes to my mind. “You know, I always complain that I spend too much time in the bakery because I have no help. Now, though, if you aren’t going to open your tattoo studio, would you like to work for me? Nothing too cheesy. You can work on decorating the cakes and helping me with some orders. What do you think?”
His face brightens with a smile. He uses the whipped cream to paint a smiley face on the cake. “That’s a great idea,” he mutters and smears my nose with his finger.
“No way! This means war,” I yell and start teasing him as well.
Somehow, we end up on the floor, laughing endlessly, looking at each other, deeply in love.
I don’t know if our relationship is going to hold, but for now, I’m the happiest woman in the world. And it’s a feeling I want to keep for the rest of my life.
THE END
A Chance Meeting
Chapter 1
The line to the airline booth is scarcely crowded. My trip to New York is close. In about three hours, I’ll be walking on the boulevards of one of the most beautiful cities in the world. However, for now, a family of four is waiting in the front for a senior couple to book their tickets last minute; behind them, a group of men laughing and teasing each other seems properly excited for their imminent trip; and then there is me. Lonely, miserable, Georgia, the one taking a trip to New York all by herself because the asshole of a boyfriend she had cheated on her two days before their trip.
Yeah, I know. Too cheesy; I should be feeling glad that Ray won’t be following me around all day, asking his stupid questions with his cellphone glued in his hands, always texting with a “friend” of his.
God, I must have been truly blind not to see that he was fooling around since the beginning of our relationship. No, not just blind; desperate. Back then, the world seemed to spin around him; what will Ray do? When will he do it? Am I worthy of his time, of the happiness he provided to me?
Well, I guess not. But, and that’s a big but, there’s one good thing that came out of my destroyed relationship, and that’s the trip to New York. We’ve been planning to visit for six months now, but with me working in the magazine and Ray having scheduled countless photo shoots, we couldn’t go away like that. We had to plan ahead and make sure our three-day trip would coincide with our time off.
But that fucktard Ray had different plans after all. To think he had the balls to cheat on me in my own apartment with one of my neighbors; I mean, who the hell he thinks he is?
I’m starting to breathe fast after remembering how everything turned out. Him not even apologizing for his mistake, sayings that he’s a free spirit and he couldn’t resist the beauty of another woman so easily.
“I should have killed him,” I hiss while the dad of the two cute children is trying to change the number of their seats so that the young ones can seat by the window.
The men in front of me turn and look at me discreetly. One of them, an African-American stud with biceps to kill for, smiles at me. “He cheated on you?” he asks me out of the sudden.
I feel my face redden from the embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out loud,” I mutter.
His grin turns to a full-blown smile now; he’s pretty cute.
“No worries. It has happened to all of us,” he says. His friends nod sharing impish grins at one another. It’s pretty easy to guess who were on the recipient side who on the giving one of the deal.
“Yeah. Well, I hope you hadn’t planned a trip to New York when it did because airplane tickets can’t get refunded, and we had already paid for the hotel too.” I can’t control what I say anymore. Talking about him after everything that happened makes me unable to hold back. Rage has filled my mind; I mean, he fucking cheated on me!
“No, it hasn’t happened to me. In my case, he cheated me with my best friend, who always went around being this macho man,” he says. “I caught them banging on our bed, my best friend being the bottom. The only thing straight about him was his hair.”
He? Straight? Of course. Four men teasing each other in the airport, traveling to New York together? They’re gay. Still, he was right; his case was far worse than mine.
“Geez. How heartless you have to be to do that?” I ask, this time without flirtatious tone in my voice.
“You tell me, sister,” he says and shrugs. That moment, what seemed to be his boyfriend nudged him. It was their turn. “Nice meeting you...”
“Georgi
a. Yeah, nice meeting you, too. I hope you have a great trip.” I smile at him in the end and bring out my phone from my purse to kill some time.
I don’t know why, but talking to this guy made me feel better. Okay, he wasn’t flirting with me as I’ve thought at the beginning, but knowing that other people have had it worse makes the pain a little easier to bare. It doesn’t banish it, but it sure feels like I’ve applied a BandAid and I’m waiting for the wound to close.
However, I’m not sure that a BandAid will be able to do much healing, not when everything around me keeps reminding me of him. For example, the last time we were at the airport together, Ray brought me a chocolate and promised me that next time we’ll be here together, we’ll be flying to New York. It seems he was just toying with my feelings all this time, that he was using me to fulfill his ego.
Big Bad Billionaires [Volume 1] Page 53