Intense 2

by Hebert, Cambria

  No. I had to leave the club; put as much space between it and myself as I could. I’d find another phone. Surely there was a bistro or café somewhere close by. For heaven’s sake, there was a café at every corner. But as I took a step in the opposite direction, the street suddenly began to waver, like a huge piece of black licorice. My stomach wanted to escape.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, an ice pick of a headache suddenly blasted me just above my left eye.

  “Shit.” Holding my cool palm to my heated forehead, I closed my eyes and stopped walking. Between the blinding headache and the licorice like street, I couldn’t take another step. The headache remained blinding and intense for fifteen seconds before it finally subsided. What the fuck had that magenta-haired bitch put in my drink?

  I knew I was a little naïve when it came to alcohol, but I was sure I was feeling the effects of something other than a few drinks.

  Angry with myself as much as with her, I knew I had to go back to the club. I wouldn’t make it far out here on my own and maybe, while I was at it, I would confront magenta and get her to tell me what she’d put in my drink.

  I turned abruptly and slammed head on into something soft and supple. It yelped, that light, sweet sort of yelp that only a French girl could emit, and I opened my eyes and looked down at the sprawled out figure on the ground. Two heart-shaped faces surrounded by a mass of chocolate silk hair looked up at me with four huge violet eyes . . . eyes so bright and shiny like an angel . . . two angels. Man, I was seeing double again.

  “Taryn?” I said, my vision blurred and seeing strange things. “Oh, my God. Have I been poisoned? Did I die and you’re here to take me to heaven? Oh, shit. Do I even make it into heaven?”

  She smiled and only when she struggled to get back on her feet did I realize she’d been waiting for me to help her up. I could be such a dunce sometimes.

  Nonetheless, she took my hand and led me down a narrow, dark alleyway. I should have been on my guard, should have been a little suspicious, but I wasn’t; not at all. She stopped in front of an old rundown building, looked at me and murmured sweet French words that I just couldn’t make out.

  “Oui,” was all I could think to say regardless of what she’d said.

  She nodded, opened the door, led me up the stairs and stopped at door number fifteen. After going through her purse which seemed to hold everything from lipstick to hairspray to mints to some funny looking folded up ballerina slippers, she finally pulled out a key ring with one solitary key and inserted it in the lock.

  I was fascinated by her face, so childlike, yet so feminine and mature. It was impossible to determine how old she was. She could be fifteen, but then again, she could be twenty-two.

  “Voila,” she said.

  And that voice; sultry yet innocent, and confident, but with a touch of hesitation.

  I looked inside the apartment. Where did she bring me and why? She could be another crazy assed bitch like magenta girl, or . . . At this point I figured I had nothing to lose. It was either crash at this beautiful girl’s place or sleep off whatever I’d ingested on the street.

  Walking in, I was struck with the delicate scent of feminine perfume and felt instantly at ease. I glanced up at her when she pushed the door to her bedroom open and knew I was in good hands.

  Comforted simply by the scent of a perfume and angelic eyes? Well, in my inebriated state, yes. And with that thought, I fell flat onto the bed, drifted off and slept like a rock.

  Chapter 1

  Though my eyes were closed, I was aware of the bright sun that poured into the room and turned away from the source and managed to nod off again. My sleep was invaded with images of that angel. She floated into my room, nudged up beside me and warmed me with her body before getting to her feet to dance in a sweet and seductive way.

  Her body swayed and I knew it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Of course she did have a strange taste in music. It wasn’t anything raunchy or sexy. In fact, it was a silly and childish song.

  Was that patty-cake, or hickory dickory or . . . knick knack patty wack? Shit! My phone! I bolted upright and looked at the bedside table where my phone sat blaring the silly song, but by the time I reached for it, it fell silent. I frowned at it for a moment. Was it mocking me? The last time I’d desperately needed it, it was blank and useless.

  “Well, well, well,” Taryn said as she came to the doorway and looked down at me. “It’s about time you open those eyes of yours.”

  I tried to say something to her, but my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and all I managed was a pain-filled groan.

  “I knew you were too young to come out here,” she said.

  I glared at her and turned to put my feet to the floor, but immediately regretted the sudden move. My head continued to turn for a few seconds still.

  “You do realize that it’s Tuesday, don’t you?”

  My eyes widened in surprise and I wondered if she wasn’t pulling my leg. I’ve been knocked out for two days?

  “Yes, Tuesday. If you didn’t wake up within the next hour I was going to take you to the hospital. The only thing that kept me from bringing you there to begin with was Errol. He was convinced you’d sleep off whatever it is that you need to sleep off.”

  “Where . . . ?” I managed to choke out.

  She disappeared into the apartment for a few seconds and returned with a tall glass of water.

  Nothing had ever looked so good.

  “You’re in Errol’s new apartment.” She handed me the glass and sat beside me on the edge of the bed shaking her head in disgust.

  I gulped down the water and held it out to her in a request for more. Glaring at me, she took the glass, and slammed it onto the bedside table.

  The slam almost did me in. I reached for my aching head. “Please be careful. I have a bitching headache.”

  “Serves you right,” she said, using the same tone Mom always used when we’d done something she didn’t approve of. “What were you doing in the 19th district?”

  “Where?”

  “We found you not far from the Parc de la Villette.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “Just that. I don’t know how I got there. One minute I’m in this flashy club with bright lights and beautiful women, and the next minute I’m in this seedy place that smells of cheap perfume, and cheaper cologne with a hint of urine mixed into the blend.

  “Great. Welcome to Paris.” She crossed her arms over her chest and silently dared me to explain myself.

  “You don’t understand, Taryn. This isn’t just some run of the mill hangover. It’s not like I went out and drank everything in sight. Someone put something in my drink. I mean I was seeing double . . . like really double. And the streets literally melted under my feet. And I think I even saw an angel. Shit, that’s not from alcohol, is it?”

  “So our lost adventurer has finally awakened.” The deep, velvety male voice had a smooth and sexy French accent.

  Man, if I could talk like that, all the ladies would be at my knees.

  “Hey, Errol,” I said.

  Errol King had a reputation for being a rough and tough professor at the International Culinary Institute in Paris, but I wasn’t intimidated by him. After seeing him with Taryn these past weeks, I knew he was all pussycat underneath that rough exterior.

  “You know, you had your sister going nuts with worry. You could be waking up in a hospital bed, young man.”

  “You should be waking up in a hospital bed,” Taryn said. “I’m still not convinced bringing you here was a good idea. You’re probably dehydrated and more.”

  “Taryn, I told you how things work here in France,” Errol said. “Illicit drugs are not tolerated . . . no matter what your story is.”

  “Hey, man, I didn’t take any drugs. I swear. Someone slipped something in . . .”

  “I told you. It doesn’t matter what your story is.”

 
“Errol,” Taryn said. “Surely they’d understand that he didn’t deliberately take any drugs. He’s a naïve young American who got lured by the wrong crowd .”

  Errol looked at his wife, and while there was definitely a lot of love in his gaze, there was also a bit of reprimand. “Not only would they not understand, but they would have called the police. He could have gotten up to a year in prison.”

  If he was trying to scare me straight, it was working. I’d never been the kind of guy to take interest in drugs—my brain was loopy enough as it was—and my night out on the town brought down by drugs added to my disinterest, but if I needed another incentive to keep away from the stuff, that certainly was it.

  “Well,” Taryn said as she stood and picked up my empty glass of water. “It’s useless to talk about all that now, anyway. You’re awake, you seem to be feeling better and no harm was done. At least I hope so. I swear, Bobby, if the cops come here saying you got into some kind of trouble while you were out there hallucinating, I’m shipping you back to Mom in New York.”

  I wanted to tell her I hadn’t done anything illegal, but, truth was, I wasn’t really sure. For all I knew, the cops could very well knock on the door and tell her I’d done something awful.

  “How did you guys find me?”

  “Your angel.”

  “Huh?”

  “That angel you were talking about,” Taryn said. “Really pretty. And smart. I didn’t think you’d go for that type.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that?” Type? Did I have a type? I love all women.

  “Just very sweet and . . . nice. A really nice girl.”

  “I like nice,” I groaned.

  “Anyway, she was smart enough to find your phone, realize it was out of battery, recharge it, and called the emergency contact number on there. Which was me.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve passed by Canal St. Denis,” Errol said. “It’s not a part of town a lot of tourists go to.”

  “I’d say, it’s probably not a part of town tourists should go to,” Taryn added. “I mean, think of it, Bobby. Anything could have happened to you.”

  “Yeah, we could have ended up fishing you out of the Canal.”

  My head continued to spin, and their constant harping on how bad things could have turned out didn’t help any. I stood and staggered to the window to look outside. It was a bright, sunny day and the glare of the sun beamed off the domed roof of the Basilica in the distance. A dull, grey day would have suited me just fine. I wanted to spend the day in bed, in the dark.

  “Didn’t you sell the apartment in the city? I thought you guys were living out in the country,” I finally said as I looked down at the buildings that surrounded Errol’s apartment. He had a bird’s eye view over the entire city.

  Probably the penthouse. Yeah, it was just like him to go for the best, the top, the cream of the crop. Man, I envied that guy.

  “We were, but I’ve decided to return to the Institute and finish my studies.”

  “And I’ll be teaching a few classes,” Errol added. “To keep an eye on Taryn. You know how many boys tried to get her to go out on a date with them back when she was a student. Well now, she’s my wife, and I will be around as much as I need to in order to make sure she remembers she’s with Errol King now for better and for worse.”

  Errol shot Taryn an intense look that spoke caveman, hands-off my woman all over it. Taryn looked down blushing. Man, so that was what it was like to feel so passionate about a woman that you reek like a caveman sending out signals to other cavemen all over to back off. This woman was mine. I wonder if I would ever feel so strongly passionate about a woman that I would reek of caveman, too.

  Great. So with Caveman Errol and overprotective, over-alarmed big sister Taryn at the Institute, my idea of fun was soon turning into something else. I’d have Mother Theresa on my back watching my every move and her military sergeant of a brother-in-law to add to the strain.

  “After what happened to you this weekend, I think it’s a good thing that we’ll be so close,” Taryn said. “We’ll be able to keep you out of trouble.”

  Errol chuckled. “At least we’ll try.”

  “Seriously?” I raked my fingers through my hair. I’d let it grow out a bit, giving me a bit of a European feel . . . kind of like what Errol had going on; that casual, windswept look that seemed to drive the girls crazy.

  “Mom didn’t send you out here to party, Bobby.”

  “I know that, but all work and no play . . .”

  “Can make Bobby a very rich and successful man if he plays his cards right.”

  I glared at Errol.

  “Do you really think I got where I am today by getting drunk and falling all over myself?”

  “No,” I muttered. I shoved my hands into my jean pockets and realized they’d put me into bed almost fully clothed. “So what’s the deal? Am I going to have to stay here with you guys?”

  “Not quite,” Taryn said.

  “Our honeymoon isn’t quite over yet.” Errol smirked as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. She looked at him in that adoring way she had and I suddenly felt like an intruder.

  “You’ll get to stay on campus like you’d planned, but . . .”

  I knew there was going to be a but.

  “I will be keeping a close eye on you, Bobby. And I have no qualms about snitching. If you go on to get yourself into all kinds of trouble, I’ll let Mom know and she’ll pull you back to New York quicker than you can say crème brulé. You got me?”

  My shoulders slumped down and I felt like I was ten again. “Gotcha.”

  “I’ll also remind you,” Errol said, “that the classes you’ve enrolled in are very demanding and it’s tolerance zero for any fooling around. One stupid move on your part and you can easily be kicked out. You’re in Paris to learn, not to get into trouble. Understood?”

  I grunted and crossed my arms over my chest as I turned to look at him. “I would have thought that you of all people would have understood where I was coming from. I mean, you were a young guy once. You know what it’s like to want to play the field, to test the waters, to taste variety. Hell, I even read an article about you that literally had the headline ‘Notorious Bad Boy Chef, Errol King, on the Prowl Again.’ And you expect me to play choirboy? Come on. There’s nothing wrong with a guy my age wanting to play the field. Man, there are women out there.” I licked my lips as dozens of ripe, firm breasts paraded in front of my mind’s eye, each pair more succulent and appealing than the last. “So many, beautiful, sexy women who have so much to teach me . . . and man oh man, I want to learn.”

  “I’ll admit I was an asshole for a time, and it almost cost me everything. Not only did I come close to ruining my career, but I almost lost something even dearer to me; Taryn. Believe me, you don’t want to find the woman of your dreams and come to her with all that baggage, all the mistakes you made. If you’re smart, you’ll cut that bullshit now.”

  Squinting, I looked out the window again. “Are you guys through giving me the third degree? I think I’d like to go back to bed now.”

  “Don’t you think you at least owe your sister an apology?” Errol said, his tone no longer amused and indulgent. “Do you know what it did to her to receive that call in the middle of the night? From a stranger? Do you know how frantic she was when she jumped out of bed and, without even bothering to get dressed, rushed me out of here so I could drive her down to le 19ieme arrondissement? Crazy, that’s what she was. Crazy with worry for her little smart aleck brother who thought he could go out into a strange new city, with a foreign language and manage on his own.”

  I bit my lower lip. “Sorry, sis.”

  Her eyes glistened with tears as she came to me and squeezed my face with her hand. “Don’t mess this up, Bobby.” She gave me a firm, but loving tap on the cheek. “Mom isn’t working her butt off so that you can come here and slack off, and believe me, Bobby, if Errol doesn’t get on your case a
bout getting into trouble, I will.” She gave me another firm tap on this cheek, this time with a little more vigor.

  Feeling a little down on myself, I shrugged. “Maybe I just shouldn’t have come to Paris to begin with. You’re obviously not happy to have me here.”

  “I’m thrilled that you’re here, I’m just pissed off by how you’re acting.”

  “And, if I may add another reason to walk a straight line, the fact that you’re my brother-in-law means you’ll be held to greater scrutiny.”

  “Good to know,” I said. Hearing the sarcasm in my voice, I glanced to Taryn to see if she would hit me again.

  She simply glared at me and said, “Don’t let me down, Bobby.”

  “I won’t.”

  Chapter 2

  My first day in class was an eye opener. It’d started early enough, with my entire dorm awakening at a torturous six o’clock in the morning. It was barely light out and the hall just outside my door buzzed with activity and boisterous conversations in a variety of languages; among them, a lot of French, a healthy dose of English, some Italian and a pinch of German.

  No longer able to sleep, I’d schlepped out of bed and taken an extra long shower, putting extra care to lather up good and wash my hair. I wanted to smell good for the babes in class.

  And I was glad I did. The girls in my class were amazing; beautiful women with luscious lips, smoldering eyes and shiny hair swept up in a variety of sexy upsweeps, bohemian buns and tight, intellectual chignons. Most wore comfy shoes with rubber soles, but a few dared heels that screamed fuck me, which I will as soon as I get their numbers. Most chose simple attire that hid their curves, but were comfortable and functional, but, not too surprisingly, the few with heels showed a desire to stand out.

  And, man did they stand out. I had trouble concentrating on the day’s lesson. I wanted to dive into Sophia’s cleavage, and run my hand along Coreen’s sexy backside. I winked at Daniella when she glanced at me over her notebook, and smiled at Eloise with syrupy charm when I picked up the pencil she’d dropped. Apparently since Taryn, who was a student here and from a humble background, landed herself the most eligible bachelor in the world—Errol King, the female enrollment at the Institute had skyrocketed . . . which for me being one of the few guys in here who with rock hard abs and biceps, was like being in a candy store. I smiled. Being at the Institute in Paris was actually turning quite nicely.