Not much was said on the train on the way back, Nadrea kept thinking of him, what she had seen and maybe even a little bit of what she had felt. Vincent thought about how he was missing the 11:00 Sports Center and would now need to stay up until one watching the midnight edition. The time came for them both to change trains, stepping off the Green line. “I’m going to head out and get a cab.”
“Ok”, he said stepping off the train with her, her hand by her side open to the air and then closing it on itself as she stepped on the platform. He noticed two trains and two seemingly meaningless gestures, perhaps some kind of superstition he thought to himself. Walking slowly Nadrea couldn’t help herself again, she had to ask “What happened back there?”
“We got off the train Nod, boy you have had a long night.” He was still avoiding her, but back to being that playful, infuriating character that drew her to him in the first place, or at least beyond the second sentence of the first conversation, which is where conversations with men who were not talking dirty typically began to bore her.
“She was right you are a…” but Nadrea couldn’t finish the sentence, he finished it for her “a damn good time!” there was such an emphatic tone in his voice, his fake assed positive attitude coming through again. Glaring at him words flowed out “FUCK! That’s” he interrupted her again, “Twice I’ve finished your sentences for you, Actually now it’s three times.” ARRGH, as arrogant and tormenting as he was… She stepped closer, he was taller than she had realized, he was also much broader than she realized too. Even in her heels he still towered over her, he was staring him squarely in the Adams apple, without her heels she would have been looking at him in the middle of the chest. “So what was her deal?” Nadrea pressed. “Fine, if you need to know.” He responded his words somewhere between feigned annoyance and actual irritation. “She was being a bitch, unless someone else is getting my attention she could care less about what I’m doing.” Nadrea going straight to the point “And the whole grinding into you thing?” In truth Nadrea could have cared less who was grinding into him, what she was curious about was how he answered the question and what he said. Vincent on the other hand placed no special meaning on his answer and without pause volleyed back with, “Well what can I say that Jim Morrison hasn’t already? I’m a back door man and what the men don’t know the little girls understand.” He said with a smirk. Nadrea’s claws came back out “Well at least she’s found a good use for her fat ass.” This time both of them began laughing.
Soon they found themselves approaching the cab stand, the night sky half clouded over, Nadrea took one of her cards with the embossed “N” on the front, it have never actually occurred to her that there might be another person in the world whose name started with an N, it’s a thought she wasn’t about to have now either. As she handed him the card she turned it over revealing an address and two phone numbers written is shiny gray ink. The ink had sparkles of glitter in it that were catching the soft yellow hues from the street light. “I’ll be here tomorrow after 10:30, come by” she offered. Stalling and planning to politely defer Vincent responded “I’ll see what I can do, I have other plans earlier” it was true that he had other plans, he had planned to have dinner in and do nothing, he was not really interested in the idea of the club thing. “Well, if you do come” she paused making sure she could see his expression “it’s a leather masquerade ball.” Something in that actually caught his attention. “So what should I wear?” he asked. “Leather, dumb ass!” it was as if they had traded places, she was now the one laughing. Nadrea continued on “If you have it and a mask, if not wear black and a mask and come ready to party.” As she finished they were standing at the first cab, in a long line of cabs sitting idle on an otherwise desolate street. He stepped ahead of her and opened the back passengers side door, moving smoothly to the front door and sliding the cabby enough cash to cover her ride to any zone in the city, and a sizeable tip since he didn’t know where she lived. At this point in the night it would have been awkward to ask, it was the kind of small talk about residences and jobs that he preferred to avoid. She was standing by the back door waiting just outside the cab. “It’s taken care of, Goodnight” and as he leaned into kiss her, the very instant before he was about to make contact she leaned away. “Even!” she said then stepping into him this time it would be virtually impossible for him to avoid contact with her that was not an obvious and direct retreat. Being as calculating as she was she knew he wouldn’t back down if pressed, he was just not that type. It was a soft kiss, slow and gentle, swimming even if only for a few fading seconds in the other erotic possibilities. Just like that it was over, he placed a hand on the small of her back pressing his right hip into her torso picked her up, and set her off to the right so he could pass. “Good night” he said again placing her back on solid earth. It was not like before when he had stepped to the side to avoid her, this time she could feel his strength, it should have been obvious by his appearance, but unlike so many people who were unable to use their own size and strength with purpose and intent, he was fluid and graceful. He moved her with such ease, as if his motions had been planned, choreographed, and already done a thousand times. “Get in he’s waiting.”
“Vin, where are you going?”
“Home, Nod. Just like you.” Turning and walking back toward the second cab in line. Open the door to get in, as he turned Nadrea called out “VINCENT!”, and when she was certain he was looking she turned her back to him and flipped up her skirt revealing the bottom third of he smooth round ass as it met her small toned thighs. A quick glimpse, a school girls tease and into the cab she went. Not unlike their first encounter she was frustrated, things in her mind had again not gone at all as she planned, but tomorrow he would be on her turf. She found herself on the short ride home was uncharacteristically swimming in his kiss. A kiss something so simple, so common never made her swoon, it was after all just one kiss. Unlike last time, he gave her a second thought on the way home. Maybe even a third then came the concerns over would he have time to get a snack before sports center started or would he have to wait until the first commercial break. Vincent was so busy socializing at the bar he hadn’t taken time to eat dinner.
A Husker sits alone
He put in long hours; it was a common thing to do. Most nights it would have been easy to find him at his desk, working on this and looking at that well into the evening. That Thursday night he sat at his desk, in his building on Capital Hill, the building itself was far from empty as elected officials, interns, cleaning staff and mistresses and everything in between all filtered through the building going about their lurid business. Tonight his office was empty, all of his staff was gone and the only light left was in his private office, a single bulb floor lap casting light around the room but mostly on his favorite leather reading chair. His now nearly infamous two cell phones placed side by side on his desk. The phones, of course, were diametrically opposed. Both had essentially the same purpose. Yet they represented such different things. The old one stood for duty and expectation, the other stood for hopes and dreams. On second thought, it stood for so much more than that, it stood for friends and family and love, or at least the possibility of it.
The Husker thought to himself that most often the values of the first ideal did not necessarily interfere with the others, the needs of each physical device was not mutually exclusive. However the company that you pay your bill to thought it should be, the first wanted all of you minutes, in essence all of you time. That was the root of Christy’s problem; she wanted control, not for his benefit but for hers. So he sat and he thought. Continuing to reason that there had to be a compromise, a way for it all to work. Eventually he came to the conclusion that he had recently come to for himself. She needed a life, a distraction from the business of the day. The second conclusion he came to was one his mother had come to a long time ago, meddling in someone else’s life for your own benefit wasn’t necessarily evil. At times it certainly could be, but most often
it was nothing more than self serving good intentions. With that he stood and began walking through his office, casting shadows as he moved like a dark mystic across the book cases. Picking up the desk phone and dialing. “Hello, its Robert” his silhouette showing clearly on the wall: crisp, and clear, and lean
The turnabout
As the old saying goes, turnabout is fair play. The Husker decided to turn the tables on his overly controlling assistant. He rearranged all of his meetings the night before. So when Christy came in to start the day she and he were in different places. The first meeting instead of having it in his office, he had moved it and sent a schedule update to her. She showed up to prep and when no one showed checked the location. It was now in a building 10 minutes away. Christy didn’t think much of it, a single meeting changing wasn’t odd at all, but as she looked out to the other events of the day, each and every one of them had been moved times changed slightly, places all different than what she was prepared. She arrived for the first meeting early as always. No sign of the Husker. Both sides, staff talked, no one knew why it was moved, it just was. Christy was starting to get angry. At the point the meeting was to begin both of the Reps came out of the good Representative from Michigan’s private office shaking hands and smiling the meeting they were all prepping for was over. The Husker just ignored Christy and walked out into the hall, headed to the next place. This one was at the cafeteria in his building.
Christy thought to herself why in the world would he set a meeting there. He didn’t even look at her, he just walked down the hall and left. She did not catch the same elevator catching the next one took forever, at least two minutes. By then he was outside the building and well on his way to being in his office where he was really holding the meeting. She arrived in the Café, looked around and he wasn’t anywhere to be found. She called and checked her listing. It was most definitely suppose to be where she was standing. No one dared to tell her he was in the office, but then again she asked where she was suppose to be but not where the Husker was. She sat and waited for 20 minutes before heading back upstairs to her office. By the time she arrived, he had finished with the Department of Agriculture briefing. She sat at her desk, checking the rest of the day. In addition to the changes in venue, he had booked her into a six with another Reps Head of Staff and an 8:00 that listed vaguely who she was meeting with and where the meeting would be. After most of the staff left he went to his office still not speaking to her, he just turned his back to her talking jovially with the others about their plans for the weekend. It was as if she was invisible.
Going into his office Christy followed him, closing the door behind her. He sat in his favorite chair, as she stomped around waiting for him to speak. He just sat down like no one was there and started reading. “What the fuck is your problem!” She yelled, he just sat there reading like she didn’t exist. After several more statements each and every one of them escalating in frustration, fear, and rage she sat down in the chair next to him. He sat there blazing on the inside but without a modicum of an acknowledgement of his anger or her presence. Finally she had run out of gas. “Are you done?” he asked her. “No, I’m really upset.” She replied. He continued on completely indifferent to her emotional state. “Well, at least I haven’t been calling your mother to figure out why you’re upset.” She just sat there. He put both the office phone records and her government provided cell phone records which were of course a matter of public record. “Here’s the day you lied to me about calling her. And here’s where you called her Wednesday after I told you I’d call you back.” Christy just stammered, not sure what to say. He looked at his watch and got up to walk out. “The rest of the day’s calendar is correct. You also have two late meetings today that I expect that you will be at without me. Understood?” She was stunned, had he set her up with the phone conversation a few days back, was it fair warning that she should have heeded but chose not to. In a way it was. The late day meetings were intended to keep her distracted, while he kept his dinner plans.
Baby Powder, black beauty, combat boots, & dinner with roses
And so the dance began, not the literal dance, but the last two hours of the work week. Robert was giving Christy his briefing before sending her off to the late day meetings he set up for her. He prepared her with a list of attendees, expectations and objectives. Her first meeting was truly legitimate. She was there to help a newly elected party member’s staff get up to speed on the assigned committee and some organizational set up and structure. Sure the elected gal was sharp, but a soft landing that leads to a good running start never hurts. The second was set to occur over dinner in a dimly lit, high end Italian place called Figaretti’s in the middle of town. While not a blind date, it was a set up, she’d meet an acquaintance of the Husker. Sure she’d met the man in passing before, but was never given access to him. She thought it was a sign of trust, what she didn’t know was the Husker’s real motivations for the meeting. It all happened so fast that she hadn’t really had time to think it through. Michal was well known to everyone around the Beltway who played the game. Everyone wanted to know him, but no one wanted anyone else to know that they did. So, while Christy headed off at the end of the day for her first of the two prearranged meetings of the evening, the Husker busied himself with the final thoughts and a fresh shave before heading out to a nice quiet dinner with Donna on the other side of town. He knew he didn’t have the entire evening with her, but a 7:30 dinner and then she was heading off to “that club again” she warned him as they made their plans the day before. “You’re welcome to come along, but it might not be a good night to be there.” He didn’t remember much about the club last Saturday except is wasn’t very busy and he woke up in her place, typically he didn’t drink like that, at least not in the last twenty years or so since leaving college. He was very much the typical male figuring that he could convince her to change her plans and spend the evening with him.
Across town Donna was packing a bag. The bag was the kind used for going to the gym, makeup, room for shoes and things, it was the yuppie kind that will fit standing up into a locker although all good yuppies used clubs with laundry service and permanent lockers. Donna belonged to one of these clubs, but still she was packing a bag. Typically when a woman packs a bag before a date it is safe to say it’s an overnight bag or at least it’s a bag in case she decides to be somewhere else over night. This bag wasn’t for the morning or even late into the night it was for after dinner. She wasn’t packing a sexy nightgown, or sultry lingerie, or even sweat pants and a T-shirt for sitting around watching movies in. She was packing boots with a platform sole and a seven inch spiked heel that came up to just below her knee. They had D-ring lacing from toe to mid calve and a brilliant deep shine coming off of their black surface. It was like looking in a black mirror, she could truly see her reflection in them. Just thinking about wearing them made her feel sexy and daring, even though she was wearing a navy blue Ralph Lauren dress and had her hair and makeup done in a way that looked serious and professional bordering on maternal. She would in her current look be perfectly in place at the fancy French place he chose for dinner. Still she would have rather been taking a nap before the party.
Which is exactly what Vincent was waking up from around the same time Donna sat down for dinner. He had called it a day around noon but didn’t get out of the office until two. The long hours early in the week had caught up with him. He stretched and stretched as he woke up stiff and sore from his workout earlier that day. Heavy weights always made him feel that way after a nap and he packed more lifting into an hour than the average roid freak did in a week, except he was actually mostly natural. A few vitamins that were really vitamins and protein shakes, he lived on protein shakes, strawberry whey with banana mixed in was a favorite, followed by chocolate soy with fresh raspberries and finally a whey casein in combo with a few drops of vanilla, pure protein. Standing in front of his blender making his dinner, tonight was going to be sixteen ounces of skim milk mix
ed with 5 ice cubes and 3 scoops of chocolate whey. All of this might have seemed mostly normal except for the fact he was standing in front of a wall of windows looking out onto the city completely naked and either didn’t realize it or just didn’t care. Pouring his shake into a large purple cup with the Baltimore Ravens logo on it, his nostrils, flared just a little, his blood pressure rose just a touch as he remembered how the bastard Colts left in the middle of the night and moved to Indy. Fuck Peyton Manning, he thought heading towards his media room to do a little light reading that would consist of the latest installment from his Hustler subscription that came in the mail a few days back and seeing what was on one of the umpteen sports channels he subscribed too, so what would it be? Worlds strongest man reruns, the NFL Network, golf. “Fuck, I hate watching golf” he thought to himself, then laughed at the line out of the old Adam Sandler movie Happy Gilmore “My neighbor the accountant is probably a great golfer, he has a huge ass.” Before he knew it, it was 9:00. Time to get ready, he turned on the shower, this would be his third one of the day, got a new triple blade razor out from the linen closet and a new blade for his good razor And in he went standing under the seven shower heads, an over sized rain maker on the top and three down each side of the shower that were set to an intensity you’d expect to find at a car wash not a shower. He had learned early in his time at that condo to be careful which way he turned and how when they were set that strong. He shaved his face, he changed razors twice a week, today was a few days early but a good shave before a nice night out was important. Lathering up with soap and then cream took care of other area’s making certain that his under arms were hairless and then shaving his feet and toes. Not because he intended for anyone to see them, but if he was going to be in a club dancing in his combat boots he didn’t want them to rub and cause problems. Rinsing off and finishing with a gentle facial exfoliation mixture. As he dried off and added the oversized white towel to the towel bin, he used each towel only before it was washed. It is safe to say that not only did he like his lovers more than a little bit tawdry, but they also couldn’t be environmentalists, he was personally depleting the worlds’ potable water supply with detergent on a regular basis. So there he stood putting Citrus Mint Pomade in his hair and mussing it as close to stylishly as he knew how, carefully crafting where every misplaced piece of hair went causing a controlled disaster, a little bit of a muss here, and a spiked up spot there. After washing his hands, he put on body lotion and facial moisturizer. It was time to let them dry and dig out his leather pants. They were old, but not as old as one would think, black and skin tight at first glance you might think they were left over from some ill fated dream of being a rock star, but on second glance they were tight through the thighs and hips hugging his well developed body closely, becoming loose in the shins bagging slightly below the knee but filling in back as his calves strained against them with each stride. Add a pair of black wool socks and time to lace up his Doc’s over the pant legs, and slipping in to an old Black Flag T, which in part explains why he had Doc’s in the first place. That was the look, adding a little Chrome for scent. Something about the pants and the boots made him look like more of a bad ass, his good looks were overshadowed by a confidence that was always there, but not as obviously bordering on arrogance as it did in that outfit. His stride more of a daring strut than a casual saunter.
It Had Been Years Page 10