by Amari, Nina
Her hands were moist with sweat as she turned her attention to a young mother hugging her child. No matter how difficult it had been to watch while Danielle explored the world as a single woman, she wouldn't have traded marriage with a man who couldn't and didn't love her for the sake of motherhood.
Unfortunately, her four-inch suede had begun to take its toll on her flesh. She took a quick shallow breath the moment she'd felt her toes pinching the pointy hollow. It was days like this she'd regretted not wearing her two-and-a-half-inch kitten heels.
Immense shadowy oaks filtered sun between its spiny winter canopies. Danielle swung her leg back to the hem of her skirt, gently massaging her tender toes through the supple suede, as she balanced herself on the other foot. Her eyes closed for a moment as she released a heavy groan.
It was almost a relief, as she targeted a park bench a few yards away. Danielle's slender toes squirmed the pointy suede, as she gingerly tiptoed her way through the minefield of strollers and mothers nursing their infants. What's wrong with me? When will I find someone to love me?
Danielle still thought that no social life heaved an immense burden. Pushing thirty. Heck, she'd already pushed into thirty, and she wasn't getting any younger. Time was click-click-clicking. And she hadn't even spent one night since her engagement over two years ago with anyone but--numero uno.
On the rare occasions, she'd been finagled into a date--she'd drawn nothing but "Loser." Those guys layered low on her threshold of ample, most times backed by a mutual parting. No one-night-stands or guys lusting for only one thing. She didn't practice wanton magnetism nor would she begin to.
And lately, she'd been sulking about it. It seemed like she'd magnetized every couple's city love. Couples huddling. Couples hugging. Couples straddling each other in their arms, licking wet, juicy kisses, having a delicious time of it.
Before she'd even realized she was standing central to an enclave of babymony, she stiffened. It was like being back home again. With the memories of living everyone else's dream, but her own.
Although some people couldn't understand why she wasn't married and already on baby number three, Danielle had the natural tenacity and nerves to pacify her own heart. She wasn't the idealistic woman who'd imagined herself the rebel in anything but career.
Danielle was hiding from unpleasant memories only she could face in the mirror. Only she could form a modest desire for the unfamiliar illusion of family versus six-figures.
She was still standing in a patch of pure yellow sunlight pouring around the end unit town homes. Her gold metallic earrings were warm to her touch. She sprung toward an empty bench next to one of the mothers. She thought to herself, could she be so lucky?
Danielle smiled at the commitment and dedication as the woman rocked her baby in her arms. "Billy, his name's Billy," said the woman with a phone in her hand. Danielle was awe-struck by that rock of a diamond on her finger, as each second the sun seemed to ray its clarity another level of glimmer above stunning.
"So how's motherhood?" Danielle asked the woman, tucking her phone carefully into her purse as the sun glittered her sharp nails a fiery ginger replicating her hair.
After a moment, the woman swaddled Billy and gestured to Danielle, "Want to hold him."
"I don't know if I should," Danielle said, as the woman cupped her arms leaning Billy closer. Maternal instinct took over, as the baby gently drifted his eyes closed in Danielle's arms. A few moments later he made a bawling, eh eh noise.
Danielle pacified the baby only moments before he had a chance to leak or ooze drool onto her designer tweed. As the woman cradled Billy back to the stroller she said, "I've got to get back, cause my husband, Jack likes his dinner--"
"Jack?" Danielle interrupted.
"Yes. My husband's name is Jack."
"Do you mind if I ask." Danielle paused to take a deep breath before saying, "When you were married?"
The woman all but leapt at the chance to answer. "Sure. We were married about two years ago." She mouthed the number without so much as a pause. Knowing all she had was a man that gave her a family, but had she known at what cost.
Danielle raised an eyebrow and said, "Two years ago?"
She'd recalled that was just about the time her Jack called off the engagement, which meant if this was the same "Jack," he had been involved with another woman. She realized this was right at the cornerstone of a game-changing decision when she'd accepted an executive-level promotion; things became unsteady in her love life, while her career was taking off.
Danielle's eyes widened. It couldn't be. She couldn't be.
At that moment, Danielle realized the overpowering scent of a rustic countryside infused the woman's collar like freshly mowed-grass. She knew instantly. The fragrance feathered the same earthy spice that Jack doused himself with every day and night.
"Mrs. Jack Cantor," the woman replied.
Danielle stared at the leggy woman with the thought that she'd been so stupidly betrayed. Her brain wanted to kick up a huff about it. She was mad. Only the truth was, she was starting to believe--the woman could have him for all she'd cared. It wasn't a lost. Matter of fact, it was her gain to find the right man--Mr. Right--to take Jack's place in her life.
Although, there was still the point of it all... She'd still have to deal with those feelings gnawing at her soul, surfacing an impact on her emotions.
She is. "Oh, I mean..." Danielle stuttered as she wrung her hands, catching another glimpse of her huge diamond. "You are...you're Jack's wife and this is his son," she added, nodding toward Billy in the stroller.
The instant Danielle realized this was her "Jack," she knew why he'd run out on her. The other woman was runway model, supermodel with legs like a giraffe, and the perfect voraciously pouted lips and bosom that would incite any man's curiosity.
Danielle ran both hands through her hair frantically trying to restart the conversation, as the woman crossed her skin-tight mini skirt showing off an angle of her curvy thigh. Only this time, the breeze blew her fiery ginger away from her face just enough that her diamond earrings popped against her light freckles. Evidently Jack spent most of his money lavishing her with expensive gifts. Danielle could only imagine he'd do anything to keep a woman like her happy.
"Ah..." was the one word that came out of Danielle's mouth which might as well have been silence.
Danielle contemplated, that what she'd just discovered would explain Jack's erratic behavior and how he'd gotten as far as "I don't love you," when he walked out the door. She was all too glad to pack her bags and leave where she wasn't wanted. Amazingly, he found time for another woman, when he hadn't always the time for her.
The woman turned a wide-eyed gaze of speculation, "You know Jack?"
Danielle dug into her brushed suede for another malleable fisting of relief hidden in the pit of her hobo bag. As her fist clamped the rubbery texture, she was beginning to realize Roman was right. It just didn't feel right anymore. She'd allowed life to pinch her nerves to the core because of what Jack and Finch had done...Because of rejection and disappointment...hurt and pain--a past she didn't want to face.
Although she knew change wouldn't happen overnight, the prickle rocked her heart at its deepest--just enough to recall Roman's sentiment...BREATHE.
You have to stop this, Danielle told herself, just long enough that she stood up before she realized she'd been living in the past. Suddenly stunned, she'd become shockingly aware of Jack's audacity to lust after another woman when they were together.
Danielle muttered, "Small world." She clamped her purse to her side and raised up off the park bench as she belted, "I've got to be somewhere." Anywhere, she said to herself as she blinked her eyes against a string of tears, piercing the grass as she weaved her way onto the pavement back towards Fifth Avenue.
Chapter Six
Fresh air had its way of making sense of everything again, breathing life from the urban rush back into her senses. Breathe in, breathe out, she coached
herself, as she wandered the tree-lined streets marked in skyrocketing wealth. Decorative cornices and ornate Italianate with arched windows brought an oasis of calm within the city.
It had been years since worry, anxiety, and fickle nerves had come close to destroying her--at least ten years ago--ever since career invaded the trenches.
As she looked up at the canopy of bright green swaying against the gentle wind, she'd raised a sudden urge to calm and silence her thoughts. At that moment, she'd had a vision of--a glorious sand beach and surging surf caressing mountains of springy foam...
Strolling the shoreline...smooth sand sifting springy waterfalls between bronzed toes. Sumptuous feathery breezes infusing the intoxicating fragrance of honeysuckle. She'd decidedly found reason and time to start practicing those few lessons she'd had in mindful meditation--Which gladly blended Roman's advice to--Slow down and Breathe.
A city stroll was all that was needed to clear her mind, at least for a while of the whole "Jack" thing and contemplate where she was going from here.
With all of this additional time on her hands, she was so busy with work non-stop for almost twelve years, she hadn't been used to relaxing and enjoying some time to herself.
Danielle stopped in her tracks, her expression serious. She was still grappling with the career and financial ramifications of the termination. And, surprisingly, although burdens lifted, she still hadn't figured out what she was going to do about her parents, the business, and her life in SoHo.
Even though consciously she'd known--Life wasn't perfect. But maybe if she'd started noticing her cup--half full--rather than half empty, life would appear better than she'd thought. Maybe she'd discover everything would be just fine after all.
Still, she simply wanted to discount the facts: her life had veered off course; she still hadn't fully accepted a career outside of accounting; and the scheme threatening to take her down in the thick of corruption--worried her. Aside from all of that, she'd been absolved of pompous asses she'd no longer have to devote any more of life's precious time to.
The shock would yield to calmer meadows, after of course she'd rehearsed and replayed the "Danielle you're fired" tape a dozen times. Luckily for her, sunrise was already at its horizon.
She had a few more peaceful minutes before she was thrust back into the world of frantic honking, gutsy pedestrians, and brazen cabbies bumbling crazy tailspins through rush hour traffic.
But, just when she rounded the corner, she merged her slender figure behind a massive prickly holly. The huge bush had snapped hold of her tweed skirt, magnetizing her in its clutches. Feathering its berried branches, Danielle peeped around it dwarfing her contour, as she zeroed into focus what appeared to be the infamous SUV. She looked at the dark tint blaring her eyes with alarm, as she tiptoed to inspect the car's bumper for a closer look.
"Titanium silver?" she muttered.
Danielle had a visceral glimpse of nerves when she'd whipped out a paper napkin she'd saved from the dessert parlor. Polishing through the saucy layer of grime, there was a long pause. In her silence, she'd leaned in closer.
"Ahah!" she'd suddenly blurted. Danielle shrieked so loud that a flock of birds hovering nearby leapt toward the blue skies in search of a branch overhead.
"Just what I suspected," she said, the instant her finger uncovered silvery paint matching the color of her Mercedes. She'd remembered that deranged monstrosity anywhere--the same monstrosity that heaved her into a tailspin just yesterday. But what was it doing near Park Avenue?
Danielle shivered as her imagination spun wild with theories. Had this vehicle something to do with the firm...the termination? Or had it somehow related to the mysteriously handsome stranger that appeared straight out of nowhere to perhaps--stir something other than virtuous concern.
By now, the air had started to vent through her legs, chilling her flesh into icy popsicles, when a sharp voice hollered out of nowhere, "Hey!"
She'd popped up from behind the bumper. Luckily, she'd managed to get a look at the plates before she'd ducked around a side street back to Park Avenue. Another minute, and who knows what would've happened. Her eyes infused the rear digits to memory as a sharp quiver suddenly surged and rode every limb in her body to run.
This was why she rivaled any forensic accountant. Not only to identify illicit activity, trace funds and recover assets. Danielle had the unique ability to snuff out the obvious...Feisty guts and the backbone to take a no strings attached backdoor analysis led to investigating and exposing massive covert fraud schemes. Remarkably, she'd recovered millions in illicit activities and beat down staggering numbers of crooked and ruthless big-time operators to justice.
She took the risks most men at the firm never had the audacity to venture.
It was a nightmarish cab ride through midtown on a Monday afternoon, back through the maze of obstacle. It took a whopping triple the time to frenzy back to the ironclad facade she called home.
The same narrow quarry stone streets that were a backdoor haven for hidden artistic gems and sought-after boutiques for the relentless chic connoisseur--was her virtue of good fortune.
Of course, it didn't hurt that high-fashion was right around the corner.
Crap. Of course...The nine-hundred-dollar ones. Danielle cocked her heel and peeked at the layers of berry juice from the huge holly that squished her suede anklet boots. Fortunately, the oozing took its toll only on the leather soles.
By then, she'd just about hobbled her way to the garage elevators from the lobby in serious need of a foot massage when she'd suddenly realized, What if there'd been a clue left behind from yesterday morning? No matter how small, it's worth checking out.
She'd been so frazzled; she hadn't even thought anything about it until that dark monstrosity was staring her right in the face just a while ago. It was worth the attention, but she knew not to get her hopes up.
She scanned the scene, studying it frantically. But, just her luck, she found nothing. Breaks of sunlight glinted off her brown locks, as she breathed a sigh and inhaled the crisp air as the cold faded into evening.
Roman's instincts as a gentleman preceded him. The Italian bouquet trailed her nose to his apartment. As the noise level dropped on cue, Roman softened the concerto and flung the door open.
"Bologna cuisine...Surprised?" He paused, his gaze softening the flush of arousal sparked from her eyes. His strong body towered hers in the foyer. She'd barely managed to pull herself past the entry when she'd heard him say, "Thought I'd thrill you with a sumptuous meal." Roman bent to catch her eyes and smiled as he'd rolled her coat off her shoulders.
"I mean after the day you had and all, you deserve something nice-- so...I thought I'd cook for you."
Shuffling her steps past the doorway, Danielle braced herself against the entry table when she looked straight at Roman, pouring exhaustion from her eyes.
She'd looked up at him, their eyes linked when he'd suddenly said, "Oh my god, are you alright? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so insensitive." As he caressed her cheek, regardless of the day's ordeal, she couldn't help but face his warmth.
"Roman, I'm fine. Just a little..." His massaging cut into her thought, as he'd relaxed her shoulders.
Noticing her breath trail, he said, "Maybe you'd rather have dinner in bed."
Hope you'd meant with you in it. Danielle mused to herself.
"Thanks. But I'm fine. I assure you. You went through all this trouble. Now how could I--" Danielle twitched her nose and sucked in the scent of oregano, sage, and garlic swooning her nose. "Let's just have dinner as planned. We can't let this feast go to ruin," she added with a smile.
"Sure thing," he said.
Danielle couldn't have been more impressed with a man in the kitchen. Not just in the kitchen, but cooking up a storm like he'd been a master chef in another life.
The Italian redolence was beginning to enfold her bones with an ensuing vigor as he'd swept her off her feet toward the sofa.
"Comfort
able," he asked. Her cropped jacket was gaping open across her breasts exposing the opening in her blouse from this morning's "wardrobe disaster."
Roman's eyes felt every vibration rising and falling as he'd held her in his arms. A ripple of heat shook his hand pulling him closer into her chest.
"Umm, much better," she said, as he'd ladled her gently across the toffee leather. The next second he'd knelt beside her and unbuckled the skinny straps of her suede anklet boots. Watching his strong hands unthreading each pink strip crossing her ankle tickled, and sent a quake riding all the way up to her heart. His hands were gentle as he glided off each heel with the smoothness of silk. She could've rolled the scene in slow motion over and over.
She watched Roman's eyes light an arousal, but then his focus sprinted toward the dining room. After he'd tossed her heels to the foot of the sofa, he'd suddenly rose and then backed up a step, taking his sweet scent with him, just before he said, "Dinner's ready."
Danielle could still see the berry juice clung to her cocked heels at the foot of the rug. The berry residue had already infused the soles in violet-purple. There was no time to sulk, as she'd had a few seconds to pull herself together after she'd swung her legs to sit up. Fortunately, her nimble toes could strip comfortably as they tingled in the soft fir.
His gaze darted back to the living room, incited by her floral ambiance that breathed a bouquet of roses across the apartment. The more she'd parted her jacket open--it was like a breath of fresh air had parted from the tweed in a sensual tease.
Danielle took a deep breath and threaded her ruby toes in the silken wispy threads tickling her naked flesh, as she smoothed a gentle massage in sync with her heart racing. A moment later, she'd nearly collided with her purse when she managed to waddle around the sofa before rounding the corner of the foyer toward the dining room.
"Sweet." The words sang from her, "Roman, this is so sweet. You're--" Her grin grew wider as she paused, "Oh my God, is that pumpkin...How'd you know it's one of my favorites...hmm, sure smells delicious."