by Michele Reed
The server brought out menus and spoke to Kerry by name. Mercedes chuckled as the woman headed off to place their drink orders. “Do you know everyone?” Mercedes asked.
“Here I do,” Kerry said.
Within minutes of the server disappearing, a tall, old man came hurrying out of the back of the restaurant. He had apparently been informed that Kerry O’Brian was present. The Irish-looking man smiled brightly as he came towards their table. “Hold on a second, Mercedes,” Kerry said as he stood to embrace the man. “Jonathan, good to see you!”
The old man sat down in the empty seat at the table for a moment. “I have not seen you in so long - where have you been, Kerry?” the man asked in a thick Celtic accent.
Mercedes watched the interaction curiously, keeping quiet so as not to interrupt. In the midst of the conversation, Mercedes noticed a slight accent in Kerry’s voice appearing. “Working,” Kerry said, “Business has been good, and you?”
“Eh, business is so-so,” the man said. “How’s your mother doing? She doing any better?”
“Much better, thank you,” Kerry said.
“Ah, I almost did not see you had a guest with you! Forgive my intrusion.” The old man stood and grabbed Kerry’s face with both his hands kissing him atop his head. “You send your mama my love.”
Kerry thanked him and the man disappeared behind the back doors. Mercedes eyed Kerry for a moment before questioning him, “How do you know him? Is the owner?”
“Yes. He’s the owner,” Kerry said. “Sorry about that. He’s rarely here anymore. I didn’t expect him to get so excited. His family and my parents came to the States together a few years before I was born.”
Suddenly a lot of Kerry’s peculiar behavior started to make sense. “Your parents were immigrants? From Ireland?”
“Yes,” he said, sounding very prideful of that fact.
“Where’s your accent?” she teased.
“Where’s yours?” he teased back. He blushed a little. “I guess I lost it over the years. My parents never had strong accents themselves.”
“You gave Yury that job because he’s an immigrant like your father was?” Mercedes asked.
Kerry shrugged his shoulders. “My parents came here with nothing but the clothes on their backs- not a penny to their name. I remember growing up how hard it was for my father to find work before he got his citizenship. It’s difficult. If I can help, why not?”
“And the diner we went to the other day?” she questioned.
“I guess I tend to do a lot of my personal business… shopping, eating out… at immigrant-owned businesses. They’re the same places my parents would shop when I was a kid. Old habits, you know?” He was not exactly a rich guy performing acts of charity for the press; he was merely helping out those who were coming out of similar situations as himself. It was almost endearing. Kerry attempted to brush it off as though it was nothing, but Mercedes would not allow it.
“You didn’t hire me just because you mistook me for an immigrant did you?” she asked.
He laughed, “It never crossed my mind that you could be from out of the States with that Brooklyn accent of yours.”
“My grandfather came to the States from Guatemala,” Mercedes said, “He married my grandmother soon after moving to Brooklyn. The family has been there ever since. Did your father help you start up the business?”
He smiled, “He helped a little. Brian O’Brian Enterprises was my project, though. My father used to own part of the restaurant here. He and Eric, the older gentleman who was just here, they started it up together.”
Mercedes felt a hint of compassion for Kerry and his family. She never would have imagined that the son of an immigrant could have created such a lucrative corporation. She truly felt as though she had misjudged him. They finished lunch, and Kerry escorted her back to the construction site before departing back to the main office building on Lexington Avenue. Mercedes felt slightly distracted that day at work, but she did her best not to let it affect her duties as foreman.
When at last the day was over, Mercedes locked up and headed out as she had done the day before. Much to her surprise, Kerry was once again waiting for her outside of the fences. She felt butterflies in her stomach when she saw him. “Just checking up on the site,” he lied. She knew he had come there for her, and she was glad. Although she would not say it aloud, she secretly hoped that he would offer her a ride home again. Much to her satisfaction, he asked, “Would you like for me to take you home?” and she could sense a bit of nerves in his voice at the request.
“I would,” she said and saw his eyes sparkle a bit. They walked together to his car; he opened up the door for her and attempted to make awkward small talk while fumbling with his car keys.
He drove a large SUV. The two of them rode mostly in silence back to Brooklyn. There was something taking place that neither of them could fully explain. They managed to talk about the construction project and she went into detail about how the work was going so far and told him the story about her first interaction with Al. He laughed hysterically about it, and she was glad to see that she could make him laugh so full-heartedly. He spoke some about the merger taking place at Brian O’Brian and the Harris construction company, but much of his technical business talk went over her head and was frankly a bit boring. The SUV pulled up in front of her apartment building. Something inside of her wanted to spend more time with Kerry that day, “Would you like to come up and have a drink?” she asked .
He nodded, “I would love to.”
The two of them entered into the apartment building and headed up the two flights of stairs. They entered into the apartment and for a moment Mercedes felt slightly embarrassed by its condition, “I guess you’re used to nicer places than this, huh?” she mumbled.
Kerry laughed, “Are you kidding? I grew up in an apartment just like this.” This made her feel relieved, but she supposed she should have known that after their conversation from lunch. She searched her cabinets, finding a bottle of red wine. “I thought you said whiskey was your drink?” Kerry asked.
“You remember me saying that?” she asked embarrassingly as she recalled the day she had spent at his office after making a fool of herself in the lobby.
“I do.” He grinned.
She opened up the bottle of wine and poured two generous glasses. They sipped on the wine for a moment when she recalled a dessert she had in the fridge. “Do you like chocolate cake?”
“Who doesn’t like chocolate cake?” he grinned.
She pulled out the cake she had picked up from a nearby bakery and cut a slice for them to share. Soon the two of them were on their second glasses of wine, sitting on the worn-out futon, and nibbling on the luscious cake. “This has got to be the best chocolate cake I have ever had,” he told her. “Just don’t tell my mother I said that. She makes a mean chocolate fudge.”
“My father was never much of a baker,” she said.
“Did your mom ever bake?” he asked.
Perhaps it was the wine, but Mercedes suddenly found herself talking to Kerry about everything that had been bothering her so recently. She told him about her mother leaving when she was just a little girl, how she left them for a rich guy promising to get her out of Brooklyn. She told him about going to MIT and dropping out to help out at the garage when her father had become ill. She talked about her Uncle Tito and the role he had had in raising her up. They talked about happier times as well, about her father teaching her how to work on cars and motorcycles from the time she was old enough to handle a wrench. She even told Kerry about the pet name her father had given her: Vroom. Kerry found the name adorable and picked on her about it.
Kerry opened up also. Mercedes learned about how poverty-stricken his family had been, sharing an apartment with the family of the restaurant owner, Eric. “I never had my own bed growing up,” he said. “I shared one with two of Eric’s sons.” He talked about working long hours in the restaurant, often missing school when they we
re short on servers. He passionately spoke about the time from when he was sixteen to nineteen when he had dropped out of school and run away, getting into some terrible habits, and about the gracious day when he decided to return home to his loving family and reconcile broken relationships. A few tears formed in his eyes while he talked about those lost years and how foolish his younger self had been. He had gone back to high school and even obtained a scholarship to a local college. Not long after graduating, he had started up Kerry O’Brian’s Construction which eventually became Brian O’Brian Enterprises after a number of wise investments and business deals.
The two of them talked and finished off their slice of chocolate cake and a countless number of glasses of wine. They were laughing happily, swapping stories of their childhood. She told him about her ex-boyfriend, Ernie, who had worked in the garage and all the trouble the two of them had gotten into. She and Ernie were a terrible pair. They had fed off each other’s troublesome natures. “God, Dad hated him,” Mercedes laughed. “They got along when they could, though.”
“Whatever happened to Ernie?” Kerry asked, his eyebrow slightly raised.
“Prison,” she said.
Kerry laughed. “Well you know how to pick them, don’t you?”
“You have no idea.” She laughed along with him at her foolishness, although she admitted that Ernie had been one of her healthier relationships.
They were sitting close together now, their legs touching. Her head was spinning slightly, but she was well aware of what was about to take place. They had accidentally touched one another’s hands several times. She playfully touched the side of his arm when he said something funny. Kerry’s hand landed on her knee and it slowly slid down towards her inner thigh, but he stopped before going too far. He looked at her and leaned in just a bit, hoping she would meet him halfway. He seemed to be begging for a sign from her, but she was too cut off in nature to lay out her own desires so soon. Mercedes decided to wait and see if he would push further; she wanted to know that he was eager. She wanted him to make the first move, so she sat back and waited. She batted her eyes and could see the eagerness in his. He continued to search for a sign from her as to whether or not it was okay to push forward, but she refused to offer him one. With each passing second of silence, he seemed to become more desperate for her to either pull him in closer or to push his hand away. She wanted him to be a man and go for it. When enough time had passed and she had made it clear that she was not going to move, he became slightly hesitant and there was a long pause.
At last, he took the leap and kissed her. She rewarded him graciously and kissed him back several times for taking the chance. She put her arms around his neck and pulled their lips apart for a moment so as to catch her breath. He used this opportunity to move his head down and kiss the side of her neck. She squeezed him tightly and playfully sucked on his ear.
Kerry pulled her up onto his lap and began working his hand up under her shirt. She turned to face him, sitting in his lap facing towards him and removed her shirt entirely without warning him; she straddled his lap and watched his reaction to seeing her black bra. His eyes widened with upmost pleasure; his face at the perfect angle to kiss her between her breasts. His arms went around her waist; he pulled her closer to him. She felt the two of them slipping off the futon. He suddenly spun her about and lifted her up off the ground. He cradled her in his arms, kissing her as he carried her to the bedroom.
He kicked opened the door and the two of them fell into the bed. Thank God I did laundry finally, she thought, imagining how filthy her room had been just days before. His hands worked devotedly to get her undressed as quickly as possible, tossing her bra clear across the room while her jeans and underwear slid off the bottom of the bed. She laid out completely naked before him. He was still fully dressed apart from his shoes that he had thrown off before landing on the bed. His lips and his hands explored her body and she felt his hand grab between her legs and he stimulated her until she cried out from the pleasurable sensation. He moved downward, kissing her thighs and then taking a moment to pleasure her with his lips and tongue, nibbling at her gently until she let out a soft, excited shout. “Take your clothes off,” she demanded, starting to feel somewhat self-conscious. Kerry quickly obeyed and immediately took her into his embrace after undressing. He told her she was beautiful, and she blushed for this was not the sort of bedroom talk she was at all used to.
She cringed slightly while he nibbled on her neck, the feeling of his lips tickling her a bit. Instantly she came to know that Kerry was an exceptionally impressive lover, although in their slightly drunken state they were both a bit sloppily acting. The bed shook as he reached around her waist to her lower back, pulling up her pelvic area slightly to assure a greater arousal on her part. Mercedes felt an orgasm coming on; she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. She shuttered and he pressed his lips against hers which muffled her cries of sensual desire. They swayed along with the creaking bed until he at last released a stuttering groan and collapsed on top of her.
When the lovemaking at last subsided, the two of them remained wrapped in a bundle of sweat-soaked sheets, hardly able to catch their breaths from the new and exciting encounter. His head landed next to hers on the pillow and she could feel his heavy breathing against her neck. “My God,” he spluttered, sliding one arm under her head and another he wrapped around her waist to pull her close again. “You really are all woman, aren’t you?”
Evidently he was not done with her. One arm, the one not rested under her head, slid down her stomach until his hand reached her womb and he once again worked to get her to a heightened pleasure. Not only was he a sensual lover, but a generous one it seemed. Mercedes felt her body tense up as she grabbed onto the sheet and reared her head back slightly, her eyes closed. He seemed to get a thrill out of his ability to make her moan, so he worked to ensure her pleasure before his. She felt his heavy breath around her breasts as he kissed her and continued rubbing her until she screamed his name.
They heard a banging coming from the apartment next door followed by someone shouting, “Shut up! It’s late!”
Mercedes and Kerry looked at one another and began to laugh hysterically, hardly able to contain themselves after all of the wine they had consumed. Slowly they drifted off to sleep next to one another, Kerry’s arms wrapped tightly around her and their clothes scattered around the room.
***
Mercedes stirred slightly, awakening to the sound of her alarm clock early in the morning. She turned her head slightly and spotted Kerry fast asleep with his head inches away from her own. Stupid, she told herself. In that moment she felt as though this was the single most foolish decision she had ever made. She started to sit up, but as she rose up Kerry awakened and reached out to her- attempting to pull at her arm to get to lie back down beside him. “Morning,” his voice purred, clearly very pleased with where he was waking up that morning; she was not so pleased, in fact, she was furious with herself. She felt slightly used assuming he did this sort of thing all the time with his female employees. But she could not be so certain. She felt disgusted with herself, it was just as bad as if she had slept with Edgar from the bar.
“You should go,” she said instantly, her voice incredibly cold as she covered herself with the sheets.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, that same ridiculous grin still present on his face. Why is this guy always smiling? she wondered angrily. Kerry seemed to think that she was joking. He suddenly hugged her from behind and attempted to rest his head on her bare shoulder. She shrugged him off. “Is everything all right?” he asked and he stroked her arm.
“No, it really isn’t.” her voice practically snarled. She yanked her arm away so he would stop touching her.
“Mercedes?” his voice beckoned and he tried to embrace her again. He sounded hurt, but she felt sure that this was some sort of act to entice her back into bed some other time.
“Don’t touch me,” she warned and stood up, pull
ing the sheets along with her so as to keep herself covered.
“Did… did I do something?” he asked, now embarrassingly trying to cover himself up with her pillows. He sat up in her bed, a pillow in his lap as he stared at her with a look of absolute confusion.
Mercedes started towards her bathroom. “No, I did. Just get dressed and go.” She closed the bathroom door behind her; she wanted to scream out in frustration. She sat down on top of her toilet and waited and listened for him to leave, her bedsheets still wrapped around her. Her heart was racing rapidly. She could hardly believe what had taken place. The night had been wonderful, sure, but good sex was hardly a reason to get oneself into trouble. Her mind was going a million miles an hour trying to figure out how she could have possible have been so incredibly foolish.
She could hear Kerry slowly moving about her bedroom from the other side of the closed door. “I wish you would tell me what I did,” she heard him say.
Mercedes bit her lip. She felt a pain in her chest. How could she had been so foolish? This was worse than if she had slept with Edgar. “Just go!” she called out, trying to hide the anger she was feeling.
She heard him stumbling about a bit longer; eventually, she heard the sound of her bedroom door opening. “I’m sorry,” she heard him say, but she did not respond. Eventually she heard the apartment door close. She sighed heavily, relieved he was gone.
Now I have to get ready to go to work, she thought, go to work for him. Mercedes slapped herself atop her head and pulled her own hair. “Stupid! Stupid!” she stood up off the toilet and stomped her feet; she looked herself in the mirror. “You’re so stupid!”
A few more minutes of self-criticism went by before she finally found the energy within herself to shower. She felt like she was having to scrub Kerry off of her. She allowed the water to wash over her as she contemplated what had taken place. There was nothing about this that could possibly end well. He would probably fire her, or he would expect more from her. It made the past few days at the construction site seem like an absolute waste. She was certain that she would be back at the garage trying to piece together the shattered remains of her life by that afternoon.