Straight to the Heart

by Michelle Monkou

  “Good evening, sir. How many?” the host asked.

  “One.” Omar self-consciously straightened his shirt.

  “It will be about a ten-minute wait, sir.”

  Omar shook his head, totally frustrated with this development.

  “How about the bar? If you don’t mind sitting there for your meal.”

  Omar looked in the direction of the bar, gauging its distance to where Stacy was. He still couldn’t see her dinner partner clearly, although he would give a good guess that it was a man. “I’ll pass on the bar, thanks.” He turned to leave.

  “Sorry about that, sir,” the host said, providing his obligatory statement of regret.

  Omar nodded and exited the building. He turned down the sidewalk that would take him past Stacy’s table. At this point he didn’t care if she saw him.

  “Sir! Sir! We have a table.” The host stood in the doorway waving at him.

  “Where is the table situated?” Omar asked irritably.

  “Sir?”

  Omar was past caring whether he appeared rude. He could walk around the sidewalk and satisfy his curiosity or end up sitting at the back of the restaurant with a hefty bill for his trouble.

  The host waited in the doorway, clearly not committing to an answer.

  “That’s okay. Maybe another night.” Omar turned and continued on his way toward the end of the block. In an effort to appear to be an ardent admirer of architecture, he strolled down the sidewalk surveying the large windows.

  One windowpane framed Stacy perfectly. One step to the left and he saw her dinner partner. “Antonio?”

  “Excuse me?” A passerby stopped with a questioning frown.

  “Sorry, talking to myself.” Omar gave a halfhearted chuckle.

  The passerby offered a knowing smile, but nevertheless, crossed at the next intersection.

  He returned his attention to the window. The conversation had became so animated that they were drawing the attention of other diners. Omar recognized Stacy’s tight body language. She radiated anger. Antonio had a plate filled with food, while Stacy merely had a glass of water. Her hands performed a lively dance to match the strong, animated expressions appearing and vanishing on her face.

  Reading lips had never been part of his repertoire. Stacy carried most of the conversation, with Antonio leaning back casually. The usual annoying smirk sat upon his face. Occasionally he filled his fork and delicately ate.

  Quite suddenly, Stacy threw down her napkin and shot up, forcefully pushing back her chair. Antonio made no move to stop her. Instead he stared at her while chewing.

  In a matter of seconds, Stacy burst out of the restaurant. Omar didn’t hide, but also didn’t step forward. She was clearly upset as she hurried to her car. Her keys already in hand, she opened the door and slid in quickly. Omar returned his gaze to Antonio, who was having his wineglass refilled.

  Without deliberating any further, Omar found himself standing in front of Antonio. He rested his hand on the chair Stacy had occupied only moments ago. “Antonio, may I join you?” Before Antonio recovered from his shock, Omar pulled out the chair and sat.

  “I suspect that this is not a coincidence.” Antonio signaled to a waiter. “Since you’re already seated, would you like a glass of wine? Maybe it will relax that murderous scowl that you have for me.”

  Omar slid Stacy’s water aside for the waiter to remove. He ordered a glass of Chardonnay.

  “Try the veal parmesan. Freaking fantastic.” Antonio cleared his plate, then pushed it aside.

  “I’ll pass.” Omar leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Let’s get right down to why I’m here.”

  “Your insecurity, perhaps?”

  Omar didn’t react, although he would have enjoyed nothing better than to reach over the votive candle to Antonio’s tie and surrender to a primal urge to kick his butt.

  “You’re worried about nothing. Sit a spell. I’ll fill you in.” Antonio grinned, openly showing his enjoyment of the current situation.

  Stacy drove toward home, away from the hectic bustle of the nightclubs and high-end restaurants. She had picked her residence with the intention that her previous lifestyle would always be at her back. Her balcony looked toward the suburbs of Atlanta.

  Now her past incessantly knocked for entry into her present circumstances. Brenda thought that she should profit from her past. Omar thought that she should embrace who she was. Antonio wanted to taunt her with the life she had left behind.

  The taunting worked to unnerve her. The information he tossed her way like loose change battered her conscience. She dropped her keys on the kitchen counter and headed to her room. She couldn’t wait to get out of her clothes and jump into the shower and scrub away Antonio’s leering propositions. The man couldn’t take no for an answer, but he knew too much about her secrets and could be a destructive force in her life.

  As she dried off, her phone rang, a unique buzz, alerting her that it was the concierge’s desk in the lobby. She looked at the clock. If Antonio had followed her, she would not hesitate to call the police. Now that she had the information she sought, she had a plan forming in her mind to neutralize any threat from him.

  “Miss Watts, you have a visitor—Omar Masterson.”

  “He came back?” Stacy frowned.

  “Pardon?”

  “Send him up, please.” Stacy threw off her robe quickly and pulled on a baggy T-shirt and sweatpants. She managed to restore order to her hair before her doorbell rang.

  “Omar, didn’t expect to see you so late.”

  He strode in and scooped her up without a word.

  “Whoa,” Stacy protested halfheartedly.

  “We’ll talk afterward.”

  “After?” Stacy asked, very much aware that they were heading for her bed.

  “I don’t know what tomorrow may bring us. I don’t think you know, either. But right here, right now, we’ve got something special that I know in my heart is worth whatever we can bring to it.”

  Stacy looked up at him. His piercing gaze warmed her all over.

  “Do you want me? Do you want me now?” Omar pushed.

  Stacy nodded. She didn’t want to say anything to delay Omar’s mouth touching hers.

  He laid her down on the bed gently. Her body sank among the pillows and for an instant she imagined that she was in a field of wildflowers with her lover.

  “I thought you were mad at me when you left,” Stacy managed to say as Omar kissed her neck. She couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped when he touched a sensitive spot behind her ear.

  “Shh. No more talking.” He covered her mouth and gathered her into a deep embrace until she melted against his chest.

  “Okay, I won’t say a word,” she squeaked. Her body arched to his, making its own language in response to his sensual actions.

  “You insist on rebelling against my wishes, woman.” Omar planted a series of wet kisses along her neck, down her chest.

  “That’s because I like the punishment.” Stacy held fast to his ears as he nuzzled her breasts. The sensitivity of those peaks caused her to moan as strong sexual urgings coursed through from her nipples down to the moist folds between her thighs.

  Stacy enjoyed Omar’s attentions, responding and leading her own campaign to dominate his thoughts with her ministrations. His muscles rippled under her touch as she traced his form. Her hand seemed so small against his expansive chest where she circled his nipple with her tongue. Her hands didn’t stop their mission as she enjoyed the shape of the thick muscles along his stomach.

  Her mind screamed for him to stop teasing her with his wicked tongue. She opened her legs, an invitation that spoke loud and clear. Though she loved the heat of his mouth leaving a blazing trail along her body, she wanted him to attend to the craving between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arched toward him, beginning their improvised choreography.

  Omar surrendered to her yearnings, entering her with slow, purpose
ful strokes until he completely filled her. Their bodies communicated in their special, nonverbal language that involved skin touching skin, actions and reactions and throwing out reason and logic. As his powerful thrusts triggered and stroked awake her essence deep at the climactic point, Stacy pushed back any lingering annoyances of reality.

  She didn’t care what time it was. She didn’t want to know what they would do when this was over. Nothing in this evening that led up to Omar’s visit had any place in her consciousness.

  Instead she listened to the rising level of her desire in response to Omar’s quickened strokes. She hung on to him, tightening her hips against his as they rode each orgasmic wave together with a fierce, frenetic speed. Her body twitched from each explosion, further scrambling her thoughts. All she could manage was to emit a happy moan as she rode the crest to the end.

  Stacy hurried out of the studio building, looking forward to her dinner with Omar. All day she had floated from the aftereffects of a wonderful evening in his arms. She couldn’t resist humming throughout the day and even managed a quick step or two as she grabbed her coat after her final meeting with the studio execs.

  A horn blew several times as she craned to see if Omar was waiting as they had planned. He’d said that he wanted to talk, which was perfectly fine with her if it ended in the same manner as last night. Just as she was about to pull out her cell phone, she saw the familiar car.

  “Hey.” She greeted Omar with a quick kiss on the side of his mouth.

  “Hungry?” Omar asked, as he drove through the afternoon traffic.

  Stacy nodded. “I’m in the mood for Thai.”

  “I know this great place that may look like a hole, but the food is fantastic.” Omar steered the car through the crowded street, until the ramp for the highway appeared.

  “How was your day?” Stacy asked. “I think that I was too perky for some people today.” She leaned her head against the headrest with a satisfied smile.

  Omar gave her hand a small squeeze. “I actually played hookey today. Needed a mental-health day.”

  “What? And you didn’t call me?”

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything fun.”

  “Yeah, right. It was a gorgeous day. Even the weather was warmer than I thought it would be.” Stacy pulled at her coat with disgust.

  “Okay, now you’re making me feel guilty.” Omar called the restaurant to find out the wait time and leave their name for a reservation. “It’s a forty-five-minute wait, but I’m game if you are.”

  “Is it the sort of place where we can sit around?”

  “Actually there’s a park nearby. We can probably get a good few minutes’ walk before dusk.”

  “Then let’s go,” Stacy said.

  At the park, there were several families bundling up their children, despite their shrill protests. As the young families departed, the young professionals descended in their running gear. Stacy had never fancied herself a jogger. Her form of exercise was in a Jazzercise class in an air-conditioned building.

  “Let’s grab this bench over here.” Omar pointed to an elaborately carved bench facing a fountain whose water had been shut off for the season.

  Omar sat first and placed his arm on the back of the bench. Stacy welcomed the chance to sit close to his body, inhaling his cologne.

  “We can’t throw a penny into the fountain to make a wish,” Stacy complained.

  “Is there a rule that there must be flowing water?” Omar reached into his pocket and pulled out two coins. “Here, you take one.”

  “Nope. It must be my coin or you might get my wish.”

  Omar tilted up her chin and dropped a knee-buckling kiss on her lips. Only the chatter of passing joggers stopped her from holding on and returning his kiss with one of her own. She could certainly give as good as she got.

  Omar tossed a coin, which bounced off the metalwork of the fountain and landed on the tiled bottom.

  Stacy observed him close his eyes. His lips moved silently. She waited for his eyes to open. “I know that you can’t tell me what you wished for, but what’s the category?”

  “Your turn,” he responded, ignoring her question.

  Stacy closed her eyes, made her wish, blew into her clasped hand, opened her eyes and tossed in the coin. Omar looked at her with matching anticipation. But she could never tell him what she wished. Partly, she didn’t expect the wish to come true, anyway. Also, she couldn’t tell him that what she wanted more than anything was to trust him, trust in him. What she had suffered in the past had scarred her and branded her heart and mind in such a way that she didn’t know how to release the baggage. Looking up at Omar, feeling the strong emotion in her heart that could only be love, she didn’t know how long they would last. One day he just might disappoint her or she might disappoint him.

  “Hey, don’t go silent on me. I feel as if you’re zoning on me.” Omar gently nudged her.

  Stacy offered him a dreamy smile, pushing back the urge to cry. All of a sudden, she had become a girly-girl with over-the-top emotions and whimsical fantasies. Life wasn’t about fairy-tale plots and it was certainly not about happy endings.

  “You often wear that sad expression. I wish you would see me as more than a lover.”

  “But I do.” Stacy sat back, more than a little surprised by Omar’s criticism. “You are a friend. My friend.” She picked up his hand and kissed the top.

  “Ah, but you say that, and yet I have difficulty believing that I’m really your friend, a friend in whom you can or share your secrets,” he said softly.

  “That would be a girlfriend’s job.”

  “And you don’t have that, either.”

  Stacy pushed away from him. “Go ahead. Ask your pesky question.”

  Omar turned to her and folded his arms. Pinning her with his intense gaze, he asked, “Would you help me on a project?”

  “Sure.” Stacy relaxed, not expecting him to give up so easily. “It certainly looks like I might have some free time for the next few months since I have missed auditions and turned down a few offers.” She shrugged. “Guess I’m taking advantage of Brenda’s recuperation.” She chuckled, knowing that once her manager felt better, there would be serious consequences.

  “I want to have a TV special on the homeless state of young adults. This is the idea that the bigwigs thought was beyond my capabilities.”

  Stacy’s hands stilled their playful games with Omar. Her heartbeat escalated, pumping so hard that she could feel the vibration in her ears. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I’d like to have you involved in this.”

  “Me?” Her voice croaked. “What could I do?”

  “Here, let’s get to the car before we miss our reservation.” Omar stood and held out his hand.

  Stacy took his hand. She hated to admit to him that her appetite had fled. Only minutes ago, they’d been teasing and flirting with each other. Now her body stiffened with tension.

  “I know and the public knows about your background and how you made the right decisions to move on with your life. And what a success! I think that you could anchor the piece with your personal experiences.”

  Stacy looked down at her feet, feeling as if she were having an out-of-body experience. “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Because I know it’s important to you. And I know how it feels to be seeking your place in this world. I know how easy it is to give up and walk away. And I know how hard it is to work through the tough crap and believe in what is not there.”

  “I think you see too much good in every thing and every person.” Stacy heard what he said, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Helping others was one thing, but talking about it on a TV camera was another.

  They made it through dinner. Conversation was sparse compared to their lighter, flirtatious moments in the park. Stacy grappled with her decision, as she steered the conversation to safer topics, like Brenda’s operation, recovery and pending discharge from the hospital th
e next day.

  “Don’t be mad,” she pleaded with Omar after they left the restaurant.

  “I’m not mad.”

  Stacy looked at his unsmiling profile as he drove. If he wasn’t angry, then she certainly didn’t think he was happy. “I truly will think about it.”

  “I know. Since it makes you uncomfortable, there is no need to justify your decision. I will respect your wishes.”

  “But I haven’t made up my mind,” Stacy protested. All she had to say was go ahead and Omar would run with it. Yet taking that courageous step was beyond her capabilities at the moment. “Are we going back to your place?” She hoped that the remainder of the evening would not be forfeited.

  “Didn’t you have to pick up Brenda early in the morning tomorrow?”

  She nodded. She’d forgotten that she’d promised Brenda to be available. At least her housekeeper would do the necessary shopping.

  “I have an early meeting and I won’t be able to get you home in the morning.”

  Stacy bit down on her disappointment. He couldn’t possibly be holding a grudge.

  “Don’t read anything into what I just said. I can sense the squeaky, grinding machinery called your brain examining my words.”

  Stacy laughed, a bit embarrassed at being revealed.

  When they pulled up to her condo, Stacy turned to Omar. He really wasn’t going to come out of the car. Disappointment seeped in, depressing her thoughts. A frightening thought entered her mind. Was this the issue that could separate them?

  Stacy touched Omar’s face, trying with all her might, in her nonverbal way, to communicate the extent of her love. She kissed him softly and her heart filled with joy to feel his active response. “Good night,” she whispered.

  She got out of the car and walked into her building without turning around. Maybe she should be grateful that they were spending the evening in separate homes. She’d never committed her heart to anyone, and the journey was proving to be more difficult than she’d expected.