It Had Been Years

by Malflic, Michael

  “Why?...to take me away to bible camp?”

  Vincent “Have fun at bible camp but call me when they let you out some of that stuff sounded fun”

  Nadrea “The Bible is full of kinky stuff”

  Vincent “Wouldn’t know I don’t’ read anything without glossy pictures or numbers”

  Nadrea “So what do you read” she already had a good idea

  Vincent “ Porno mags and Kiplinger”

  She thought to herself that she now knew how to really get his attention, pasted an edible spread sheet on her inner thighs with the total next to a critical spot. So as the sales tax liability task force blithered on about California’s rogue state tax laws the IM’s continued.

  Vincent “Talking about tax law”

  Nadrea “Oooh, I’m aroused!”

  Nadrea saw this as the perfect opportunity for a little more blatant cyber

  Sex. Vincent however declined stating that he had to pay attention to this part.

  Vincent “Go pack your bag for bible camp”

  Nadrea “Can I pack my toys?” she asked one last attempt at distracting him.

  Vincent “Yes, but chances are you’ll be playing with yourself”

  Nadrea shot back “Like now!”

  Vincent did not respond.

  Nadrea then added “Maybe I can find a nice preachers daughter to play with.”

  Vincent “Bye” and he was logged off and gone.

  Late Sunday afternoon Nadrea’s cell phone rings. At the time she was late for drinks with friends. Most people’s idea of brunch on a Sunday is somewhere between ten and two thirty at the latest. Nadrea how ever believed in Linner a combination of lunch and dinner that consisted mostly of drinks and a little food somewhere in the time frame of 3:30 to 6:00. She was supposed to have been there between four and four fifteen, the time was in fact 4:46. She felt that this was more or less on time for the type of event so as she sat in the back of a cab in her heels and jeans, the cell phone was ringing away with the obscure ring tone she had selected for Vincent.

  Nadrea liked ring tones, she compartmentalized the people in her life with them. If you were a work related caller in her address book your ring tone was “For Whom the Bell Tolls” by Metallica. Various categories of friends from drinking buddies, whose tone consequently was the soon to be classic Black Eyed Peas “Get it started” to a simple ring ring sound for the acquaintances and of course her choice for lovers featured “Get Off” by Prince. Daddy’s numbers including his secretary and support staff all were set to “New York New York” and Mommy’s was set to Elton John’s “The Bitch is Back” although she vacillated and struggled with the thought that perhaps the song would be better suited as a sub category for her male gay friends. Donna and a few others each had their own ring tone. Vincent had recently been added to this category with The Killers “Mr. Bright Eyes”, she sang the “it was only a kiss it was only a kiss” to her Armenian cab driver who wisely ignored her before answering. Greeting Vincent with a bitchy “Are you done?”

  “No Nod, not yet.”

  Exhaling heavily reminiscent of a frustrated twelve year old who was bound and determined to control her own little universe but was failing at it.

  “Any time soon?”

  Vincent was all business “No ,I decided to take the train up today.” He paused through the silence he could almost feel the disappointment Nadrea had. He continued on “I jumped on the 3:25 pm regional, the last Acela was at 2:00pm. We’re working the whole way up and will finish in the office after we get in.”

  “So when are you coming back?” hoping since he had left early that he might be back early as well, Nadrea hadn’t planned on seeing him but if he was in town there was still hope.

  “That’s why I called” No sooner than the words left his lips Nadrea hoped would be back on Wednesday instead of late Friday. Instead Vincent offered “I thought you could come up and spend the weekend in the City” not at all what she was hoping for at first. She asked “What day?”

  “Friday for sure but I’m also open Thursday after work if you want to.”

  Nadrea paused “Ok, I’ll be there Thursday, have you booked your return train?”

  “Not yet why?” Vincent asked.

  “Just wondering” was her response, she was in fact wondering but she was contemplating whether or not to see her parents while in the city. So now Nadrea was going to the city for a few nights, she planned to take a 6:00am up Thursday morning and work from her firm’s NY office for two days. The cab pulled up and Nadrea wondered in her usually late self for drinks, no one was surprised by her arrival time.

  47th Street

  Vincent in his nearly infamous style had for the week taken up residence at the “W” Time Square. Sure it was more of a midtown location, not at all convenient to the financial district that has more that adequate accommodations. Then again he could take the two or the three from the 50th street station down the red line to be where he needed. He liked the Midtown bustle, the shopping and tourists mixing in with an odd batch of locals and aspiring theater types. So as the rest of the team went out in the East Village and Chelsea, he spent the early part of his evening at a Bally’s on 55th and then dinner back across on 54th at Iguana. New York, Manhattan in particular had a calming effect on Vincent. Typically his idle mind wondered, in its boredom searching for distraction. The City was the ultimate distraction, the crowds, the cars, not that DC is small but comparatively it was boring, it had become comfortable and routine. New York unlike many places allowed Vincent to go with the ebb and the flow of his surroundings rather than frantically searching for some type of stimulation, Vincent went from erratic searching and his normal frantic mindset to his temper in check while finding something new to do at every turn.

  The hotel choice was made for one reason, not because it was new and chic, not because the lobby was more of a bar than a lobby, resembling something out of a rap or pop music video. Granted the lobby and its crowd was a plus, littered with beautiful people, none of which looked like they had to work for a living, or ever in their lives. So while the rest of his entourage basked in the pretentious open spaces of larger hotels, he chose his not for the décor which is magnificent but for the entrance from the street. Door men who looked like they should be at a night club opening a path that was the real reason he chose the “W”, the water rushing overhead through colored lights and down the walls as he walked in off the street and waited for the elevator. Soon Vincent would be back in that lobby with a room full of model types and millionaires not unlike himself sipping mineral water and diet soda. He didn’t have to work anymore either, but he hated golf so something had to fill his days.

  Some Things Never Change

  Nadrea boarded the Acela at Union Station that would put her at Penn Station a few minutes before nine, so a quick subway ride and a cab weather permitting should have put her in her firm’s New York office by 9:15. As she sat in her business class seat the train rumbled it’s way along to the Mecca of the American business world. Her look a demure office look consisting of slightly longer than knee length skirt, matching jacket. The only thing showing that was quasi stylish were her shoes. Then again what couldn’t be seen was her was he G string that boasted in burgundy silk screened letters “Use Any Entrance”

  Nadrea was a practical woman when it came to not burdening herself with mundane tasks, the only thing she had in tow was a brief case with a lap top, two documents to review while on the train and a small assortment of makeup and a small book sized reading light. The remainder of what she might need in New York had been over nighted two days earlier to her parent’s house, where the staff at her direction had unpacked her garment bags, pressed and re-hung a collection of dresses, both formal and casual, club wear and workout clothes for her Central Park runs. They left, as instructed, her two other “necessities” bags unopened, no one even dared to peek for a check of the contents. Most of the homes staff had been around for years and had a fairly
good idea of the type of tyrant Nadrea was, she was very much her mother’s daughter. If there was any inclination to her lifestyle choices they never spoke of them, it was for all they knew fairly normal for a privileged life to have peculiar needs.

  The train arrived an excruciating three minutes late, at least it was three minutes late according to Nadrea’s watch. This was the type of simple thing that would send her into an absolute tirade about the inefficiencies of the American train system compared to the always runs like clockwork transportation systems of European nations. Nadrea continued her discourse rambling nearly incoherently out loud as she walked through Penn Station, on the subway and the station until she finally arrived above ground stepping out for the first time in recent history into the streets of the City she grew up in. It was a nice day so she opted to walk rather than take the five block cab ride. Nadrea stormed into the office with all the grace and dignity of a conquering barbarian devastating another culture for fun and profit. She was instantly back in her New York bitch mode before the door to her office was even opened. This was a temperament that made her DC persona look like a Mother Teresa. Her Greeting to the receptionist was “Where am I?”

  “Guest office D on 33.” She responded in an all business manner before adding “Nice to have you here.”

  “Thanks. It’s a nice change of scenery.” Nadrea stated in a tone that had a borderline civility to it and lacking its usually sarcasm drenched alliteration. The receptionist was stunned Nadrea had never been so polite before, polite of course being a relative term.

  Vincent sat at a financial institution in Lower Manhattan weaving the same tale over and over again, impassioned explanations of the company’s history. A rousing rendition backed with detailed impeccable research on the market opportunity. He extolled the virtues of the board and the executive team. By that point in the week the deal was all but done it was as they say in golf a “gimmie.” That didn’t matter because Vincent was playing for keeps, any advantage negotiated, offered or won was well worth having.

  His solid blue Hickey Freeman suit and custom tailored Canali shirt combined with the all business tone set the mood in a place where the home team always sets the tone. It was like an MBA vocabulary course and as the terms flew fast and furious the end of the meetings grew near. The credit terms were not for ongoing operations, a typical line of credit and debt financing, no it was not that well intentioned. Vincent was securing a war chest. He now had the backing of a larger and more powerful foreign army marching into battle with him and his soul crushing, company consuming, competition decimating funding level. Some people were made for certain things, it defined who they are and how they live. There are selfless parents, inspirational clergy, selfless miracle working doctors, but in addition to all the good there is also bad. The natural born killers, the tyrants, and thieves, somewhere in the middle were guys like Vincent. Deals made him come alive, it was what made his heart race. Money was a motivator, but it had become the score card and too much was never enough because there was something else; winning. To the victor goes the spoils but there is also always a wake of destruction and defeat for both friend and foe along the way. It was what happened to those who walk in the wake of the mighty.

  So while Vincent pitched and schmoozed Nadrea screamed abusively into the speaker phone in her guest office, she was not born to be at all maternal or caring, she was not soft or gentle and those were not attributes in others that she found alluring. In a moment of silence as she poured through emails New York New York’s muffled melody escaped from her brief case.

  “Daddy” she answered.

  “One second Nadrea, I’ll put you through” a pleasant female voice added and the phone rang once .

  “Hi”.

  “Fuck Daddy! You know I hate that!”

  Undaunted he began “Nice to talk to you too.”

  Nadrea snapped back “Why can’t you dial me yourself?”

  He laughed “Fat fingers, just be glad that you don’t have my mother’s hands” Nadrea doesn’t reply so he continues “When are you coming in?” Sighing heavily like the entire universe should through osmosis be all to aware of her schedule and intentions she responds “I’m here now, why?”

  That was his chance the opportunity to be fatherly, a chance to connect with her again on some level other that the superficial one that they existed on.

  “Are you staying at the house?” he asked missing the opportunity to connect beyond the conversation on basic logistics of her trip. It was rare she stayed at her parent’s house but typically she had given instructions on where to send her clothes.

  Nadrea’s voice lost its edge “I’m not sure yet?” realizing that it had never been discussed, she assumed that she would stay with Vincent. Then again she had never asked and he had never offered, not a single detail about when and where she was expected to stay. The pair had not spent a minute or even a second of time in a dream like slumber in the presence of other. Suddenly she realized that she had again followed that man without knowing where they were going or what the plan was. This time it was not up the street, or across town or even into the suburbs, but to a different city hours away from where she lived on a few simple words and a vague invitation.

  “It would be nice to have you around.” Daddy offered a request almost as vague as Vincent’s.

  “I’m, here til Sunday” a noncommittal answer. “But I’ll stay at the house tonight, but it’ll be late since I have dinner plans with a friend” Daddy was just happy to have her around knowing the best time they would get together would be over tea in the morning “Great should I make brunch plans for four on Sunday” he said

  “I don’t know daddy, that’s not what I had in mind.” She said coolly.

  “Look Nod I’m offering, it would be nice to have a little extra time with you.”

  “Fine Daddy but not before 12:30, OK?”

  Daddy was elated, she was going to stay at the house at least one night and flush with his recent parental success. “Just so I know ahead of time your friend, what’s her name?” “His name is Vincent Daddy, see you in the morning.”

  A Sexy Latin on 54th

  There once was a time when Vincent wondered the streets of New York with a familiarity that could only come from having been there, often perhaps, too often at times. If you listened to the words between his incessant complaining about traffic and the people who were not like him you could sense that he was professing an undying love for Manhattan and frankly tried to spend as little time as possible in the other boroughs. At the end of his weary and long days Vincent would wonder to what is ultimately his favorite island to call it a night. Not far from the W on 47th before it was there he would haunt a very trendy depression era hotel on west 55th between 5th and 6th avenue. The staff seemed to be of Scandinavian descent, very beautiful and young. Like when you spend a great amount of time anywhere people fall into routines, they head for places that are familiar and that become comfortable, once such place for him was a Mexican place on 54th called Iguana. Vincent was an after 8:00pm dinner kind of guy and would wonder in still clad in the business attire of the day. He would receive a greeting from a lovely woman who more often than not was working as the hostess. They’d exchange pleasantries, discuss the day and if the place was not busy having died down from the pre theater dinner crowd often she would sit and talk with him. Somewhere between the harmless flirting was a genuine sexual tension, Vincent found her absolutely alluring and his banter was more often than not his typical aloof and challenging style. Unlike Nadrea she had always found this amusing, he was her dinner entertainment whenever he came in.

  Her hair was long and dark, hazel eyes. She was often clad in a long flowing skirt featuring a subtle patterns and flowers. Her stride was also long and flowing, with a graceful movement of her hips with each passing second. Quite mesmerizing really, it was a hypnotic stride barely a half step ahead of Vincent, looking back over her shoulder …in a playful smile and those dark and love
ly eyes as she would lead him to his table for the evening. Her eyes were very seductive in and of themselves, on many occasions she would come by to talk while he ate, just few words here and a few words there, nothing of substance and nothing of meaning, merely two individuals who were exchanging words to fill the void of silence and loneliness in an otherwise uneventful and unmemorable evening.

  Time would pass and Vincent again found himself in the city and needing to eat. Rue on 57th was full of aspiring actresses looking for a meal ticket all too often, Vincent looked like that meal ticket, he loved the vibe , great scenery but he always felt cramped and disliked the corner it was on. Too busy being right there on Broadway. You can only live on Italian so much and when he grew tired of Patsy’s as exquisite as it was or Carmines in the theater district, although the one on 92nd was not only the original but it was also better. In a city filled with amazing restaurants at every turn Vincent always found himself back on 54th conversing with his lovely acquaintance. From time to time he would meet a few clients there before heading out for the night. She was indeed a beautiful woman and often caught their eye as well, but he had become a frequent guest and garnered more attention than most. Perhaps she liked him, perhaps he was buying into the experience and perhaps the smiles were all in his mind. Then again Vincent was a well traveled man in most things in life and sex and seduction. This was one of his most frequent stops, it was unlikely that he was wrong.

  At Vincent’s invitation Nadrea would meet him there at 8:15 that Thursday night As she walked in and his sexy Latin friend greeted her and Vincent at the door. She assumed Nadrea to be just another client and as his regular dinner guest, when she realized she wasn’t the situation became odd. The Latin then insisted on taking Vincent’s coat. She saw the couple to their table and slid her hand gently across Vincent’s shoulders as she walked away. Was she toying with his guest, who is typically not very territorial? Nadrea may not have been territorial but she also hated competition and Vincent knowingly played along as her irritation rose. The Latin in her subtle way sensed Nadrea’s displeasure and she began playing for his favor, for his smiles, for his undivided attention in conversation, ignoring Nadrea. After leaving the table she moved back across the restaurant using that mesmerizing stride hips flowing effortlessly side to side. Vincent couldn’t help but watch her as she walked he was after all not dead, and even if he had been he might have cheated death and time for one last glance of her. It is a wonderful gift that some women possess to flaunt their sexuality in a timeless manner, luring the simpler sex into their web. One would think that Nadrea would have noticed but she was soon to receive more than her fair share of attention from the males on the staff. Who were in their own right quite alluring to her.