Shattered Heart

by Carol May

  “Yes, sir.

  Looking over at me with those eyes that scream, I want to you, Houston teasingly says, “Really Charli? One thing for you to bring, you almost leave it.”

  “No, it was two things and I was distracted.”

  “Cheeky!” Swatting my behind and trying to appear as if he was mad, I took him by the arm, looked up and batted my eyelashes in a very dramatic way. We laughed as we walked across the pathway.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just a little further up this path and you will see.”

  We were just walking arm in arm, enjoying the beautiful surroundings. It was almost as if we were the only people in the world. For that moment in my mind, that’s what we were- the only people in existence.

  “Charli, do you trust me?”

  “Yes, I told you, you’re my somebody.”

  “Remind me later, we need to discuss what that means but for now, I want you to close your eyes.”

  Closing my eyes, my heart is beginning to race. The beating even more rapid when I feel something soft and satiny go over my eyes, changing the darkness to complete blackness, a blindfold. Raising my hands to my face, I feel the soft satin fabric. Thoughts begin tumbling through my mind. Wondering what will come next. Then it dawns on me, I really do trust him. I might have just said it a minute ago to him but it is a fact. Smiling, I reach out for H.

  “Hold onto my arm. I want to lead you the remainder of the way. I won’t let you bump or hit anything.”

  Nodding my head, I move forward. After about twenty-five steps, I hear the soft lap of water mixed with music. A small smile creeps onto my face as I think about how romantic this is. As we move closer, I believe I recognize what is playing. It sounds like something from the 1940’s that I had commented about once when we were music surfing on our phones after a long night of hot, sweaty sex.

  “Stop.” Houston stands behind me tenderly kissing my neck knowing how that drives me utterly crazy. Trying to turn around but he won’t let me, as his kisses move across my neck to the other side. Tilting my head allows him easier access. I begin swaying and moving in time to the music against him. Tracing my ear with his tongue, finally whispering, “Charli, you drive me wild.” His comment spurs me on, beginning to move even more to the tempo of the music, reaching up I run my hand through his gloriously soft wavy curls. Taking about a half step back, separating our bodies, “You know, I like a good lap dance but this is one time I want you to slow down, tiger.”

  “Rarrrr.”

  Still swaying to the music, Houston removes the blindfold. Taking my eyes a few minutes to adjust to the remaining light but when I could really focus before me is a stone and patina aged gazebo jutting into the water. That explains the sound water.

  “Oh, Houston! It’s magnificent.”

  “I thought you might like it.”

  “Be careful walking out. There are some small loose stones here and there in the walkway.” Walking into the gazebo, I am speechless. The beautiful scene in front of me defies anything I imagined. In the center, is a round wooden table (antique I am sure) set for two with two crystal candle sticks each holding a navy candle. (My man and his navy.) Directing us to the table, I notice one wine glass is absent. Reaching into the bag, he withdraws the chest containing my glass. After handing me the glass, he pours each of us a drink. We toast and drink to each other. Dancing to the soothing sounds of a pan flute, my hands explore Houston. With his 6’4” frame against my 5’6” we fit together like a tight fitting glove. As we gracefully move to the music, I am at peace with myself more than at any other time. I have no idea how long we stayed that way.

  “Charli, are you hungry? I’m starving.”

  “Now that you mention it, I am a wee bit hungry. I know, don’t say anything, I think the music is influencing me. I’m pretty sure I have never said “wee bit” before in my life.” Smiling, Houston says, “Baby you can say wee bit as much as you like. Pulling me into him, our mouths meet in a tender yet passionate kiss.”

  Turning, I see sitting on the table two covered dishes. “Wow, either you have some powerful magic to cause food to appear or I was really lost in the music while we were dancing.”

  “As much as I would like to lay claim to having magic, the food was delivered while I was enjoying holding a very beautiful, sexy woman in my arms.” After our meal, several people swiftly and silently remove the table and place settings. Replacing them with two deep cushioned, white loungers while I stand by feeling as if I am Princess of the Nile. Looking down, I see a navy and gold design in-bedded into the gazebo floor. The pattern is very familiar. I look at it for a moment trying to place where I have seen it. Then, I remember! I look back and forth between Houston and the design a couple of times to be sure. “This is the pattern that is on the floor of your shower, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Looking down at it and back up to him one more time I ask, “Why is it the same?”

  “I really had planned on us sitting here, enjoying the night and the lapping of the water but now I feel after that meal we should walk. How about you?” As confused as I am, I agree movement would be better than sitting at the moment. “Ok, H. let’s walk.” Placing my hand in the bend of his arm, Houston leads us out of the gazebo, to a path that skirts the banks of the water.

  Chapter 18

  As we walked, he began with a deep breath, “This estate originally belonged to my great, great, grandfather on my Mother’s side, Nigel Houston.” Stopping for a minute, I looked up and laid my hand onto his muscled chest. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “That’s where your name comes from, then. I assumed it had something to do with the city.” Wrapping his arms around my waist, Houston replied, “That’s what everyone thinks.” With a small laugh he continues on, “When I was in college, I would make up some grand story about being conceived while my parents were visiting Houston, Texas.

  People, especially those of the female kind always thought it was a unique way for my parents to name me. I have to admit, it was a much better story than being named after your great, great, grandfather.” Nodding my head in agreement, he pulls me closer and runs his hands down my lower back.

  “It has been my experience, especially when I was younger that some people make jokes and laugh at you when they find out you share your name with a city.”

  Placing his hands on my behind and pulling me into him, he simply said, “I never thought about that. Shall I track them down and require they give you an apology?” Shaking my head no, and grinding my hips into him, I respond, “My full name, which I legally changed, is Charlotte Katheryn Jensen.” Houston continued pulling me into him as we both enjoyed this sensual movement, “Then why not Charlotte?” Frowning, I look up into those sensual yet understanding eyes. “I hate the name Charlotte. I was always teased as a little girl. Kids were forever asking me about my “web.”

  Taking on a sassy childlike voice, I said, “Charlotte, what ya gonna write in your web? Where does your silk come from?”

  Raising his hand to my face in such a gentle caress, “I am so sorry you went through that when you were younger. Lifting his right hand and saying, “for future reference, I promise I will never ask where your web is or anything about it.” Smiling wickedly, “I might ask you where you want to be when you have your next orgasm.”

  “Well, H. let me answer that right now, for future reference, anywhere you want me to be is just fine with me.” Rubbing his chin, pretending to think, “I can think of some very interesting places.” He has that mischievous smile that gives him an almost sinister yet totally sexy look. Taking a step back from him, I look up into those eyes that are alive with desire, “My parents named me after the city they met in, Charlotte, Missouri. I don’t know why I just blurted that out to you.”

  “I have no idea either but I am glad you shared that bit if information with me. “Let’s continue our walk, Charli Jensen formally known as Charlotte Katheryn Jensen. For the reco
rd, I am thankful your parents met in Charlotte, Missouri.”

  Stepping in front of me, Houston grasp my shoulders and pulling me into him, he said, “I have to admit I would have changed my name from Charlotte to Charli, too” as he kissed my nose. Carrying on with this playful old southern stuff, I replied in my best belle voice, “Why, Mr. Houston, I do declare. You are just a little scoundrel, aren’t you?” With a slight lift of his brow, “Ms. Charlotte if you only knew.” Ending our little tribute to the South with great laughter and continuing our walk, realizing I had missed this type of thing, having someone to joke and laugh with. Even our laughter seems to compliment each other. His deep baritone against my soft singsong laughter, sounds right. It has been awhile since I felt this comfortable to share anything about changing my name. I really didn’t mean to tell him but it just came out.

  “How do they feel about that?”

  Looking just a little confused, I ask, “They who?” but deep in my heart I know who he is referring to.

  “Your parents, Charli. How do they feel about you changing your name?”

  Stumbling just a little, I’m not holding onto him any longer but Houston quickly supports me placing his arm around my waist. “Oh, they don’t know.” I could feel the old familiar lump in my throat as the topic of my parents came up. Taking a deep breath, I know exactly where this conversation is headed. I don’t want to go there not tonight. “They are both deceased.” Feeling the lightness of just moments before drifting away I look down at my hands, “I don’t want to talk about it or them.” Beginning to blink my eyes rapidly, I was determined not to cry. Almost begging Houston, I requested, “Please Houston, don’t ask.”

  Somehow, understanding that this wasn’t the right time, placing his hands on both sides of my face, gently tilting it up for our eyes to meet, he solemnly answered “OK, I won’t. But know I am so sorry. If I could change your loss, I would.”

  “Thanks.” As a tear ran down my cheek, raising his right thumb to wipe it away. Taking a deep breath, and smiling a sorrowful smile, I leaned into his hand. “I’m sorry, Houston, I didn’t mean to be short.

  Breaking the moment of what he correctly interpreted as my anguish, “You can’t help that, it was in your genes” he finished with a fake laugh.

  “Ha, Ha. Wise ass. Take that,” as I swat his chest and childishly stick my tongue out. Focusing the conversation back on this wonderful place, “I’ve wondered how we could come in here after hours so many times without any difficulties. Now, I understand but wait a minute, if your family doesn’t own it any more, I still don’t get it.”

  “No one actually owns the estate now. My family is a major contributor to the foundation that maintains it.”

  Casually nodding, I reply, “So the old saying “money talks” is at work here?” Barely shaking his head with almost a grimace on his face, Houston replies “Yes, I’m afraid so, Charli.” “I’m not a big fan of the belief, if you got it flaunt it. However, in this case I suppose flaunting it is allowing you to enjoy beauty. On a personal note, from what I have seen, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it all. Baby you’ve definitely got it. I definitely get to enjoy your beauty.” Winking at him, I added, “Oh, you’ve got the money also.”

  “Charli, I really don’t feel as if I flaunt my wealth but I do use it, my beauty. I do use it.” Ending our walk, in a moonlight garden which obviously was his plan, I stood taking in the romantic scene in front of me. For most of this night, I’ve felt as if I were a princess on a stroll with her prince this is the perfect place. Guiding me to an outdoor sofa in the middle of lush green foliage and orchids, “Shall we sit?” Houston asks. Smiling and nodding yes, I look around to see twinkling candles surrounding us continuing the fairy tale feeling I have experienced all night. Reclining back onto the many cushions lining the back of this massive, outdoor daybed, I sit spell bound as Houston continues with a gleam in his eye that almost makes me uneasy. I’m not fearful for myself but fearful for Nigel’s tale.

  Nigel disgraced his family by falling in love with his best friend’s Mother. That scandal would have destroyed his family, since the McKenna’s and the Houston’s were not only friends but business partners in multiple successful ventures, as well. Nigel’s father chose the family’s social status and business over him, sending him to America. Apparently, even back then, business sense ran in our veins. Upon arriving in this foreign land, he used some of his funds to start a small shipping business. It grew because Nigel had the family’s Midas business touch. Surprisingly, when his Father died, he inherited a huge sum of money.”

  Drawing a breath in, I interrupted Houston. “He inherited money from his Father? Don’t you see H. his Father loved him after all? Right?” Looking up into the darkness of the sky commenting, “Baby, I never thought of it that way. I suppose he did love Nigel or he wouldn’t have left him anything.” Touching Houston on the leg, hopefully encouraging him to continue with his story knowing there has to be more, “and?” He pulls me close, and I lay my head on his shoulder. Seeming lost in the story he says, “Anyway, he used his inheritance to expand his shipping business, GlynisRun, as well as to purchase land. I believe that, I inherited my keen business instincts from dear, old great, great, Grandfather Nigel.”

  Sitting stunned for a moment, processing all the information Houston has just shared with me about this young man and a tale of love gone wrong. Coming to my senses I ask, “Houston, what did you say the shipping business was named?”

  Solemnly, he answers, “GlynisRun.” I am sitting there, speechless, staring at a beautiful flower, processing what I’ve just heard. Holy cow! I know he’s wealthy but not like that. Not GlynisRun wealthy.

  “Charli? Are you alright?”

  Holding one finger up, I manage to say “Just give me a minute, I’m absorbing this.”

  With a small laugh, he says “Need some processing time?” All I can do is nod. After a bit, I finally squeak out, “You have got to be kidding me? GlynisRun is your company?”

  “Yes Charli, it is one of them.” With a look of confusion, I’m sure, on my face I ask, “Did you say one of them?”

  “Yes, one of them. I actually own over fifty companies and stocks in quite a few more.” Taking a deep breath as if he is fearful of where this conversation might end, he sheepishly ask, “You’ve heard of GR, then?”

  My head jerks around along with my body turning in one fell swoop. I probably give him my crazy look because all I can say is what I am thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding? Is there a person around that hasn’t see the little red headed boy standing on that hill of green grass yelling at that mysterious someone, “Catch, GlynisRun! If you can.”? We get deliveries every week from GR.” Sitting here just enjoying the calm we’re sharing, my head is back on his shoulder, our hands entwined as one the feel of our bodies touching as we sit side by side is enough. Kissing the top of my head, Houston breaks the stillness of the night by explaining the meal that we shared. “The meal we enjoyed tonight is a traditional Scottish meal accompanied by pan flute music which also was inspired by Scotland as well.”

  “Hmm.”

  “When I was planning this little affair, I thought it a fitting tribute to Nigel tonight. Without his misfortune, we wouldn’t have this beautiful estate to enjoy.”

  I have to agree that was a fitting tribute to him. The music was beautiful, H. The meal was delicious. Thank you for sharing Nigel’s story with me.”

  “As the story goes, those goblets we drank out of tonight are from Nigel’s and my great, great grandmother’s estate. Grandfather Nigel had the pair crafted for Grandmother Penelope once they were engaged. However, he only gave her one, keeping the other for himself. The goblets were to remain separated until the two were united in marriage which would also unite the pair of goblets.” I sat there amazed at the romance of this story. “I sent you two hand carved wooden containers.” Remembering the mystery behind the second chest and how much it resembled the first, I guessed the second had
something to do with Nigel, as well. “How could I forget the second one, it only came today. Let me guess, GR delivered it.” Of course it did my sexy lady. Who else would I trust with my valuables?”

  After pondering this for about thirty seconds, I reply with one of those well duh attitudes, “I see your point. Who else?” Making a silly face, I ask, “Valuables?” Houston smiled, his I know a secret you don’t know smile and finally says, “I have no doubt that you would like to know what is in the smaller one.” Smiling and nodding my head, Houston stands and retrieves the chest from the bag. My eyes get big I am sure, “Let me guess your little elves brought that bag here because I know we didn’t.”

  “You see, it is beneficial to have an extreme amount of funds. Things happen.”

  “Ah, don’t you mean mega funds, apparently Mr. Donovan?”

  Returning to beside me, H. gives me a quizzical look. “Really? As tech savvy as you are, I assumed you had completed a web search on me, by now and knew all about me.”

  Shaking my head no, I am sure I have just shocked him. “Actually, I don’t like to find out about men I may be interested in through some cold and impersonal information on the internet. Call me old school but I like the surprise element.”

  Nodding his head, looking over at me and stressing the word, “Men? Alright then. I was under the impression, I am keeping you busy enough. If you have time for “men” then perhaps I need to step up my game.”

  Quickly smacking the side of his leg, I shoot him my shut up look. Calming down and all joking aside, I notice a certain look of astonishment or deep down maybe it was pride, he nods his head. Taking my hand in his, he squeezes it just enough for me to understand, he likes that. Me not knowing. We lounge back on this plush, splendid outdoor sofa, enjoying just being hand in hand. “I like it when you call me H.”

  “Oh, good cause Houston is sooo long,” I say in a playful tone. Leaning over and grabbing my waist with his free hand, he finds my spot of weakness.