by Kate Forster
As he rushed along the street, he peered into the shops around him but couldn’t see her. He rounded the corner and saw the large bookstore that he and Alexia used as their local coffee haunt on a Sunday. Walking inside, he saw her, standing in the self-help section, looking awkwardly at the selection in front of her. He walked around the edge of the store until he was standing behind her. He saw a book on the shelf, picked it up and from behind handed it to her. Carlotta looked down and read the title. How to meet a man and keep him. She frowned and turned to see Chris standing sheepishly behind her.
‘You’ve met me, now will you be mine?’ he asked, blushing.
Carlotta started to laugh and cry at the same time. ‘You fucking fool,’ she said, as he grabbed her in his arms and kissed her fervidly.
She pulled away from him. ‘Are you just doing this to get me into your bed?’
He laughed. ‘Of course, but I am hoping you will stay in it forever and ever.’
Carlotta wiped her eyes. ‘You want to have a relationship with me?’ she asked. ‘We haven’t even slept together.’
Chris put the book on the shelf. ‘I think about you all the time. I dress for you. Does that make me like a woman? Maybe. You are under my skin, Carlotta de Santoval, and I am afraid I can’t get rid of you and nor do I want to.’
Carlotta blushed. ‘I think about you also. I dress for you every day when I go to work and I don’t even like clothes,’ she laughed.
‘Come home with me,’ he said taking her hand.
Carlotta paused. ‘What made you change your mind?’
‘I had never made my mind up,’ he countered her question. ‘However, it was my lovely daughter who so charmingly told me I was a fucking loser if I let you get away.’
‘I do like your daughter.’
‘She’s all right,’ said Chris, looking into Carlotta’s eyes. ‘Did I mention I never go out with women taller than me?’
Carlotta looked concerned and then Chris smiled at her. ‘But strangely I find you even more attractive in heels,’ he said seductively.
Carlotta cocked her head to one side. ‘Is that so?’
Chris pulled her to him again. ‘Come home with me?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Carlotta coyly.
‘Why not?’ asked Chris.
‘Because I have to get something first, then I will be over, OK? Can you wait that long?’
‘Maybe. You promise you will come over?’ he asked, searching her face.
‘I will be there. Go home and wait for me,’ she ordered.
Carlotta kissed him again and smiled. ‘Have a little faith, OK?’
‘OK, but this is a very vulnerable man in front of you,’ he said.
Carlotta laughed at him again. ‘Fuck off and I’ll be there soon.’
Chris left the store, glancing back over his shoulder a few times as Carlotta waved him away with her hand. She bought the book and headed onto the street. Glancing up and down among the Friday night shoppers, she saw the shop she was looking for. Almost running in her flats, she pushed open the heavy doors.
‘Hello, welcome to Manolo Blanick. Is there something you are looking for?’ asked the salesgirl.
Carlotta took a deep breath. ‘I need the highest and most glamorous shoes you have.’
‘Of course,’ said the salesgirl.
Ten minutes later Carlotta was rushing back to Chris’s apartment with her shoes tucked safely in her Hermes tote, after telling the salesgirl she would forgo the shoebox and bag. As she went back up to Chris’s floor she found him waiting for her outside his door.
‘Hello,’ he said, smiling.
‘Hello, I told you I’d be back,’ she said.
They stood facing each other.
‘What did you need to do?’
‘Nosy, nosy,’ she said.
‘Are you saying I have a big nose?’ he asked.
‘Yes, you do and you need to not poke it into my business,’ she said primly.
‘I hope I do get to poke it in your business,’ he said huskily.
Carlotta was both shocked and turned on by his crudeness. ‘You are disgusting,’ she said, slapping his arm.
‘Yes, I am, and I can’t wait to show you how disgusting I am,’ he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her again.
Carlotta felt herself melting and considered letting him fuck her in the hallway when the door opened. Alexia was sitting looking at them with an eyebrow arched.
‘The young lovers return,’ she said dryly.
Carlotta pulled herself from Chris’s clutches. ‘Sorry about my hasty exit. I had to pop out and get something.’
‘Oh, what was that?’ asked Alexia.
‘A book,’ said Carlotta quickly.
‘Right,’ said Alexia, and wheeled herself away, chuckling.
‘It’s like she’s the parent,’ whispered Carlotta to Chris.
They spent the evening talking with Alexia, eating pasta and watching a little bit of TV until Chris called for Alexia to go to bed.
‘Come on,’ he said, getting up.
Alexia moaned. ‘Dad.’
‘Yes, my child,’ he said in a silly voice.
Carlotta watched the easiness between them. It seemed so foreign to her compared to what she grew up with.
‘Come and say goodnight,’ said Alexia.
‘You sure?’ asked Carlotta.
‘Yeah, come on,’ said Alexia, as she pushed herself towards her room.
Carlotta entered the room after Chris and Alexia. The walls were covered with pictures of horses and pop stars that Carlotta didn’t recognise. There was no sign of Alexia’s disability except for a hospital bed that was reclined into a sitting position. Alexia wiggled herself to the edge of her seat and reached up her arms to her father. Chris bent down and picked her up easily. He put her on the bed and then swung her legs around and covered her with her bright red quilt.
‘Night, Dad,’ she said, as he kissed her forehead.
‘Night, darling.’
‘Do you see that Carlotta?’ said Alexia, pointing to the wall.
Carlotta walked over and looked at the picture of herself taking a jump on Amante.
‘Wow,’ said Carlotta, flattered.
‘I had that up there for about a year before I met you,’ said Alexia proudly.
‘I am very honoured,’ said Carlotta seriously.
Alexia smiled and held out her arms. ‘Night, Carlotta.’ When Carlotta walked over and kissed her cheek she heard Alexia whisper into her ear, ‘Be patient with Dad. He can be a fuckwit but he really, really likes you.’
Carlotta laughed and nodded.
‘What did she say?’ asked Chris.
‘Back off, nosy,’ said Carlotta.
Alexia burst into giggles. ‘Love it!’ Alexia said. ‘Night.’
‘Night,’ said Chris.
Carlotta and Chris closed the door, walked back into the lounge and sat down.
‘It’s shit, what has happened to her,’ said Carlotta, thinking about Alexia.
‘Better than not having her at all though,’ said Chris gravely.
‘I know.’
‘She does OK though. Never feels sorry for herself. Has been asked to the prom. So that’s my next thing, finding a dress with her. This is the sort of thing she misses, not having her mom, you know. That’s hard.’
Carlotta nodded, thinking of the endless shopping trips with Birdie and how she complained about them constantly to her mother. Now she understood what she had and what Alexia would miss.
‘I could help her,’ offered Carlotta.
‘You said you don’t like clothes,’ said Chris, his eyes twinkling.
‘Well, I don’t, but I could get Violetta to help, she knows everything.’
‘Well, you ask her and see what she says.’
They sat in comfortable silence although the air was electric between them. Finally Chris stood up and pulled Carlotta to her feet.
‘Now, I am going to take you to
bed.’
Carlotta felt nervous. ‘To fuck me?’ she asked.
‘To make love to you,’ Chris said.
He led her to his bedroom. It was an almost bare room except for a king sized bed covered in white linen. There was a small bedside table on his side with a lamp on it and at the end of the bed, leaning against the wall, was a huge mirror.
Carlotta looked around. ‘Can I use the bathroom?’
Chris pointed to one of two doors. ‘In there,’ he said.
Carlotta went inside with her bag. She took a deep breath and undressed and then, opening her bag, pulled out her new shoes. They were ten-inch heels, with a band of green crystals across the toes and around the ankles. Carlotta did them up and wondered if she would be able to even walk to the bed. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Not too bad, she thought. She had lost condition since she had stopped riding but she looked OK. Her auburn hair was out and she checked her armpits and legs. They would have to do, she thought, hoping the shoes would make up for what she felt she lacked.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and saw Chris sitting in bed, already undressed.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he said.
‘I thought you Jews didn’t believe in him,’ teased Carlotta, pleased at his reaction.
‘Well, holy mother of God,’ he said. ‘Come here.’ Carlotta walked to his side. ‘Show me those shoes, baby,’ he whistled. ‘Manolo’s?’
‘Yes, how did you know that? Are you sure you’re not gay?’ she laughed.
‘Come here and let me prove it.’ Carlotta crawled onto the bed and kneeled in front of him. ‘You are so fucking spectacular, I think I might come now,’ he said, as he reached out to touch her full breast.
Carlotta felt her nipple become erect and closed her eyes. ‘You are so crass,’ she whispered.
‘You want me to stop?’ asked Chris, as he gently massaged her nipples.
‘No fucking way.’
Carlotta threw herself at him, shoes and all. Chris was an amazing lover – dirty, sexy, funny and intense, He overtook Carlotta’s body with his hands, his tongue and finally his cock. She gasped as he entered her and they fucked violently. Carlotta felt herself coming quickly. What he lacked in height he made up for in the length of his large cock and she felt herself just about to reach orgasm when Chris pulled out of her.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.
He moved around the bed and lay across it sideways. ‘Get on top,’ he ordered.
Carlotta did as he asked and, turning her head, saw him and her in the mirror. He smiled at them in the reflection.
‘Now ride me,’ he said.
Carlotta started to rock back and forth on his cock. She felt her orgasm come forth again and she looked at herself on top of this ugly, sexy man, wearing the craziest shoes she had ever worn and felt herself fuck him harder than she had ever done in her life.
Chris’s hands reached up and grabbed her hips. He matched her rhythm and they looked at each other in the mirror. Carlotta couldn’t tear her eyes away as she felt herself and Chris reach an orgasm together. Her head flew backwards and she closed her eyes, shuddering with ecstasy.
‘Oh Jesus Chris. Oh fuck. Oh God,’ she said as she came.
Chris held onto her tight as he finished and then she fell on top of him, with him still inside her.
‘Nice shoes,’ he whispered in her ear.
‘Nice cock,’ she whispered back.
‘That’s disgusting,’ he said, and laughed as she bit his shoulder.
25
Spencer, New York – May 2000
Spencer visited New York only to see the triplets and Birdie. Leon had come to terms with his visits, albeit reluctantly. Birdie had received a broken wrist fighting for it but she stood her ground, and Spencer was granted visits to the city but not to the house in Connecticut.
It was the most pleasurable time of his life, when he and the girls and Birdie would explore the city a few times a year. He would lavish them all with attention and gifts, and for the brief time they were together, everyone was immersed in their own fantasy of how life would be without Leon. None more than Spencer, though.
Birdie hadn’t aged at all, he thought, beautiful, patient with the squabbling children, all so different. Spencer saw parts of Leon in each of the children, in Carlotta’s brave attitude to life, in Violetta’s lack of care and restraint, in Grace’s ability to learn. But mostly he saw their mother.
Birdie and Spencer were careful to never find themselves alone without the children. They met in public places and went to events designed to keep the children busy and talked of old times and the people they knew, but never of her time back in Atlanta. When Birdie had rung him out of the blue in the office, he fell under her spell again and there was a sadness in her voice that helped him understand. She had done the right thing for her family. He had stayed away until she asked him to come back, as he knew she always would. He would always be there for Birdie. Always. Now the triplets were nearly fifteen. Perhaps too old for visits to the city and touristy attractions, but Spencer and Birdie relied on these times to keep the connection between them.
Spencer felt that things weren’t right in Birdie’s home. Violetta and Carlotta had mentioned it to him when they were briefly alone over the years. Leon was a tyrant, from what they said, and Spencer could believe it. Birdie had been divided from her family, never visiting; instead her parents were allowed up to Connecticut for birthdays and Christmas and then they were sent on their way again. The once strong familial bond between Birdie and her father was broken and Spencer didn’t know why. Birdie’s father and Spencer were close in a way. He was an odd man, Spencer had thought over the years. Of course he had heard the rumours of William’s predilection for young boys, but nothing had been proven as far as Spencer was aware, and until it was he would remain a non-believer. He often wondered if Birdie knew but then how could she? She was so far away from that life now.
Now Spencer sat in the coffee shop waiting for the arrival of the most important women in his life. There had been no one else since Birdie. A few lovers, but no one he considered rebuilding his house for. Instead he did it up for Birdie; slowly, painstakingly he created the home he once thought he would share with her but now he lived there alone. He had never told her about it; it would bring up the last time she saw it, when she shared his bed, and that would be painful for both of them.
Birdie knew of his work on the Blanchard home, however. Her mother had told her and Birdie listened, knowing it was for her. She wondered if she would ever see it again.
Birdie’s parents were getting older and frailer. Her father was forty-five when Birdie was born and now he was close to eighty-five. He was an old man and her mother, at seventy-nine, took on the responsibility of his care. It had been a long time since they’d come to New York; too far to fly now. Spencer checked on them whenever he could get away from his busy law practice and Susie seemed to be coping, but for how long? He wondered if Birdie knew how hard things were for her parents at home.
He heard the door of the coffee shop open and the triplets and their mother fell inside the door, pushing and fighting.
‘Don’t do that, Carlotta, you’re such a bitch,’ he heard Violetta trumpet her own arrival.
Birdie pulled off her hat; her red hair tumbled about her face and Spencer felt himself draw in his breath at the sight of her. I have loved you my whole life, he thought, as she walked towards the table.
Birdie sat down next to him and kissed his cheek hello, breathing in his scent of lemons and mint. ‘Hello,’ she murmured into his ear.
Spencer felt himself want to cry.
The girls threw themselves at their beloved ‘uncle’ and each one started to tell him simultaneously about their news. Spencer felt himself relax. And then he felt a hand creep into his under the table and he looked at Carlotta sitting on the other side, her hands on the table and he looked to his left, and saw Birdie looking at him, questioningly.
He squeezed her hand back; it was the most intimate of gestures and it forgave the years of silence.
Under the table Grace reached down to pick up the book she had dropped and saw her mother’s hand in her pal Spencer’s. She was holding his hand tightly. Grace sat up again and beamed at both of them. Perhaps her prayers would come true and one day soon they would become a family.
26
Flying to LA, Grace was in work mode, with three of her team beside her. She didn’t have time to think about Frank as they discussed the last minute details of the shoot. By the time the plane landed, Grace was off to the studio to meet the stylist, with bags of clothes that Violetta had sent over.
The afternoon was filled with the level of panic that Grace had felt before a big auction but it was a relief to feel something other than distress or anger. She finally arrived at her hotel in the evening and collapsed onto the bed. She had avoided the Four Seasons after her time with Frank there, and had instead booked everyone into the Peninsula.
She lay on the bed and thought of Frank. She felt the tears start and she cried until she slept, fully clothed, until her wakeup call the next morning.
The studio was already busy when Grace arrived, bleary eyed. Calypso was sitting in a makeup chair while the makeup artist worked on her beautiful face.
‘Hi Grace,’ called Calypso from across the room, and then she said something to the makeup artist who glanced at Grace.
Grace’s heart sank; no doubt Frank had told TG that she had dumped him because he was a bike courier and now she was telling her makeup artist about it. Grace put on a brave face and walked over to Calypso.
‘Good morning, how are you today?’ she said politely.
‘Great, actually. TG got up to tend to August so I had a full night’s sleep. Grace, this is Kelly, she is one of my best friends and also knows Frank really well.’
Grace smiled at the woman, who looked like a brunette Christie Brinkley. ‘Hello, Kelly.’
‘Hiya,’ said Kelly, as she tipped Calypso’s head back and brushed her neck.