The Next Level

He sat in the dark living-room, watching as the rain fell, droplet by droplet down the windowpane.  He couldn’t sleep.  All he could think about was her.  She was out there somewhere with another man.  Was she having a good time?  Did she have any idea of how much this was hurting him?

It was after mid-night.  He should hit the sack but he couldn’t sleep.  He dragged his fingers through his hair, his expression drawn.  Why did he have to go and fall in love with her?  Life was less complicated when they were just friends.  Then, one night, they were goofing around and the next thing he knew they were kissing wildly.  They ended up in bed.  Immediately after, she got dressed and got out of there fast.

For several weeks she avoided him.  She didn’t return his calls or answer his texts and emails.  And when he finally got through to her, she informed him that she was going on a date with some guy a co-worker set her up with.  When he asked her about what happened between them, she said that it was a mistake and that they should cool things off for a while.  That hurt like hell.  After she hung up, he went to a bar and got plastered.

The next morning, he woke up with a terrible hangover.  How he managed to get through the day, he had no idea.  As soon as five o’ clock rolled around, he walked out of the office.  He was tempted to go to a bar but headed straight home.  When he got in, he fixed himself something to eat but had to force himself to eat it.  After he cleaned up, he took a long, hot shower.

He tried to read but couldn’t concentrate.  He went on his laptop for a while but ended up going on his Facebook page to look at pictures of them together.  They looked so happy.  Agitated, he logged off and got up from the desk.  He went back into the living-room, turned on the television but he was distracted.  He turned it off and switched off the lights.  It was ten-thirty when he climbed into bed.  He lay on his back.  Outside the rain was falling.  He could hear it hitting against the window.  He closed his eyes but sleep evaded him.  He glanced at the clock.  It was eleven-fifteen.

Throwing off the covers, he climbed out of the bed and left the room.  He went into the drawing-room and sat down on the sofa.   He watched the rain droplets running down the windowpane.   At first, he thought he had imagined it.  Then, he heard it again–faint.  Someone was ringing the doorbell.  He got up and went to see who it was.  His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat when he saw who it was.  He opened the door.  His eyes ran over her.  She was drenched.

“You’re soaking wet,” he exclaimed as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside.  After he closed the door, he took her into the bedroom.  He turned on the light.  “You need to get out of that wet dress.  While you do that I’ll get you a towel to dry your head.”

He went and got a towel and took it back to the room.  He handed it to her.  She took it.  “Haydn, I’m sorry…”

“For what?” he asked, his expression tense as his eyes met hers.

“For the way I’ve been treating you.”

“When I wanted us to take our relationship to the next level, you made it painfully clear that you didn’t.”

She dropped the towel on the bed.  “I haven’t been honest with you.  After what happened between us that night, I panicked.  I didn’t know how to handle it so I needed a break.”

“I could understand you needing a break but why did you have to go on a blind date?  Do you have any idea how much that hurt me?”

“I’m sorry, Haydn.”  She moved towards him.

“Is that why you came?  To apologize?”

“Yes and to tell you that I’m ready to take our relationship to the next level if you still want to.”  She was standing very close to him now, looking up at him.

His eyes darkened on her upturned face and reaching for her, he moaned thickly, “Of course, I still want to.  Oh, Malika…”  He held her tightly against him as he kissed her passionately.  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

As they exchanged kisses, he backed her over to the bed.  Then, he broke off he kiss long enough to strip and undress her before they were under the sheets making love love.  Outside the rain continued to fall.

He later found out that Malika had changed her mind and didn’t go on the blind date.  The two friends became lovers and the following year, they got married.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for today’s prompt, Droplet.  If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Cyclone Randy

I’m sitting here in a restaurant on the coast, hungry but still not sure of what to order.  I was alone.  It’s not often that I have dinner alone but this time was different.  After dating on and off, I decided to end my relationship with Derek.  Emotions weren’t involved in my decision.  I exercised perspicacious judgment.  The relationship wasn’t going anywhere so why prolong it?  Now we are both free to move on with our lives.

Tonight, I’m celebrating my freedom.  It feels great to be single again.  I studied the menu for several more minutes and then I finally signaled to the waiter that I was ready to order.  After he left the table, I closed the menu and was about to reach for my cell when he walked in with a woman I’ve never seen before.  I tried not to let seeing them together bother me.  Why should it?  I asked myself.  I hoped that he wouldn’t notice me.  Unfortunately, he did.  I braced myself as he headed over to my table with his lady friend in tow.

Trying to act calmer than I felt, I glanced up and smiled politely.  When he reached the table and was towering over me, I couldn’t help but think how sexy he looked in that black shirt and black jeans.  The little black cross nestled against his chest.  Realizing that I was staring, alarmed, my eyes flew up to his face.  A slight smile tugged at his lips.  Perhaps, it was my imagination but he looked a little smug to me.

“Good evening,” he said, his eyes flickering over me, making me feel hot and bothered.  Why did he have such an effect on me?  It has always been that way since we met a couple of years ago.  Derek introduced us.  I wonder if he knows as yet that we broke up.

“Good evening,” I replied.

“Are you dining alone?” he asked.

I raised my chin perceptibly.  “Yes.”  I was almost tempted to add that there was nothing wrong with a woman having dinner alone when I saw his eyebrows arch in surprise.

“How come Derek isn’t with you?”

Why did he have to ask about Derek?  I might as well tell him.  “He and I broke up.”

His expression changed and he stared at me for several minutes.  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said finally.

I shrugged.  “It’s for the best.”

He was about to say something else when his companion cleared her throat.  As if suddenly realizing that she was there.  He turned and drew her forward so that she was standing beside him.  “Bena, this is Angela.”

Bena looked at me.  She was very striking although I thought that the grey jersey dress she wore was too casual.  She looked me over before she held out her hand.  She didn’t look too pleased.  “Hello,” she said as we shook hands.

“Hello.”  After we shook hands, she placed her right hand on his shoulder and put her other arm around him.  I think she was letting me know in no uncertain terms that he was off limits.  My eyes shifted to him.  Again he had that smug smile on his face.  My fingers gripped the glass of water.  He was enjoying this.  Men.

Thankfully, just then the waiter came over with my order.  As he set the food down in front of me, Bena turned to me and said, “We will leave alone to enjoy your dinner.”  She turned to him and said, “Let’s go to our table now.”

He nodded before he said to me, “Good evening.”

“Good evening.”  We stared at each other for several minutes before he turned and walked away.

Their table was a couple of tables away from mine and by the window.  I tried to look everywhere except there as I tucked into my pan-fried Rainbow Trout dinner.  I wished they weren’t there.  I couldn’t really relax and enjoy my dinner.  I hardly tasted the Butternut Squash Pie which was one of my favorites.  As soon as I finished the last crumb, I signaled to the waiter.  After I paid the bill, I got up from my table.  I was tempted to walk out of the restaurant without saying goodbye but that would have been rude.  So, after adjusting my dress, I walked over to their table.

Of course, Bena wasn’t pleased at the intrusion but he stood up.  “I just wanted to say goodnight before I left,” I informed them.  I could feel him watching me and try as I did, I couldn’t resist looking at him.

“Goodnight, Angela,” he said.  “It was nice seeing you.”  His expression was serious this time and I wondered about that.

Bena didn’t answer.  She just inclined her head and as  I turned and walked away, I could feel her eyes digging into my back.  What was her problem?  Did she think I was after her man?  I shook my head at the idea.  Ridiculous.  I admit that I’m attracted to Randy Cloud but that doesn’t mean that I want to get involved with him.

I think about nothing else but him on the drive home.  I turn on the radio in the car to listen to some music but it doesn’t help.  Frustrated, I turn it off.  I roll down the window but soon roll it back up as the noise of traffic gets to me.

When I get home, I shower and fix myself a nightcap and relax on the sofa for a while.  As I sit there watching the television but not really paying much attention to it, I find myself wondering where Randy and Bena went after dinner.  Did he take her straight home or somewhere else first?  Were they going to spend the night together?  For Pete’s sake, why should what he does with Bena matter to me?

The phone rang.  I got up and answered it.  “Hello?”

“Hello, Angela.”

I nearly dropped the phone when I realized that it was Randy.  “Randy?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you calling me?”  I had to ask.

“Would you like to go out for drinks with me sometime when you’re not busy.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Randy?”

“Yes.”

“What about Bena?”

“Bena’s just a friend, nothing more.”

“It’s obvious that she wants to be more than friends.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“All right.  I guess there’s no harm in going out for a couple of drinks.”

“How about tomorrow evening around six?”

“Sure.  Do you have somewhere particular in mind?”

He mentioned a bar I’ve never heard of.  As long as it wasn’t somewhere Derek and I have been, I’m fine with it.

“All right, I’ll meet you there.”

“Great.  Have a good night, Angela.”

“You too, Randy.”

I hung up.  Why do I feel as if I’ve thrown myself in the path of an oncoming cyclone?  If I’m not careful, I could get swept away.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for Saturday’s prompt, coast, Tuesday’s prompt, hungry, Wednesday’s prompt perspicacious and today’s prompt, cyclone. If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Stolen Water

Stolen water is sweet, And bread eaten in secret is pleasant – Proverbs 9:17

We met at a bar one rainy Saturday evening.  It wasn’t the sort of night or place you would expect to meet someone like her.  I was in Chicago on business.  After having dinner at the hotel, I decided to go for a walk in spite of the rain.  I wanted to check out the Navy Pier but the rain was coming down hard now so I ducked into the first bar I spotted.  The atmosphere was cozy and intimate.  A great place to hang out for a while.  I went over to the bar and sat down.  It felt good to be out of the rain.  I looked around.  This place was ideal for a nightcap or a late night rendezvous.  It reminded me of one of my favorite bars in New York.  I smiled and ordered an El Presidente cocktail.

It was after I took my first sip of the cocktail when she walked in.  I froze.  My heart stopped and everything and everyone in the room faded into nothingness.  All I could see was her.  She was wearing a knee length magenta spandex dress which hugged her in all the right places.  Her thick chestnut hair fell in thick waves down her back.  She closed her umbrella and walked over to where I was.  There was an empty stool right beside me.  She sat there.  The bartender turned around and from the way he acted, I could tell that she had been here before.  After exchanging pleasantries, she ordered a Grasshopper.  When he turned away to fix it, she glanced at me.

Our eyes met and held what seemed like a very long time.  My heart was pounding.  I was nervous and excited at the same time.  It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way.  She smiled at me.  “Hello,” she said.

“Hello.”

“I’ve never noticed you here before.”

“This is my first time here.”

“Are you from out of town?”

I nodded.  “Yes.  I’m from New York.”

Her eyebrows arched.  “The Big Apple.  Hmmm.  What brought you here to the Windy City?”

“Business.”

“What sort of business do you do?”

“I’m a Construction Manager.”

“And what exactly does a Construction Manager do?”

“I oversee the process of new commercial and residential buildings, as well as bridges, tunnels and roads; supervise building deadlines, the progress of workers, and managing the budgets for each project.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“What about you? Are you a model?”

She laughed.  “No, but I’m flattered that you think so.  I work at Bluedog Design.”  The bartender placed her drink in front of her.  He glanced at me and then moved away to serve someone else.

“I’m impressed.”

“So, what do you do for fun?”

“I jog, swim, play Squash and do a lot of reading.”

Her cell rang.  “Excuse me,” she said as she fished it out of her handbag.

I turned my head because I didn’t want to seem as if I were eavesdropping.  I took a couple of sips of my cocktail.

“That was my husband,” she said.  “He’s in Vancouver.”

My head swung around sharply.  “You’re married?”

“Yes.”

I glanced pointedly down at her left hand.  There wasn’t any ring.

She followed my gaze.  “I took it to the jewelry store to have it resized.”

“Oh.”  She’s married.  What a bummer.

“What about you?  Girlfriend? Wife? Both?”

“Neither.”

“What’s your name?”

“Andrew.”

“Tina.” She held out her hand.  I grasped it.  It felt soft and warm.

Her being married put a damper on the evening and I could think of nothing else.  “Doesn’t your husband mind you going to bars alone?”

“This is the first time I’ve been in a bar alone.”

“I know if I were him, I would have a problem with you being here alone in a bar talking to another man.”

“He doesn’t know that I’m here talking to another man.”

“And what if he did, wouldn’t he be upset?”

“Let’s not worry or talk about Sam.  I’d rather talk about you.”

I finished my drink and slid off the stool.  “I have to go.”

Her eyes widened.  “But why?  We were just getting to know each other.”

“You’re married, Tina.”

“I know but you and I click.  The evening is still young.  Still a while longer.”

“I can’t.  We both know where this will lead if I don’t leave right now.  It was a pleasure meeting you, Tina.  My advice to you is that you go home and stop going to bars alone.  Goodnight.”  I turned and walked out of the bar.

It had stopped raining.  I could have gone to the Navy Pier but I decided that I had had enough excitement for one evening.  I headed back to the hotel.

Two years have passed since that night in a Chicago bar and I don’t regret my decision.  I was tempted but I was able to walk away and not look back.  Now, I’m happily married to an amazing woman I met right here in New York.  I believe it that it was my faith that saved me from doing something I would have regretted for the rest of my life.

When faced with temptation, you can either run towards it or away from it.  The more you resist it, however, the more fortified you become.

Sources:  Four Seasons Chicago;Yelp; Sparrow Chicago; Global Business Travel; Bluedog Design

A Shocking Discovery

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

It was pouring outside.  Vera sat at the bar.  Although she felt out of place, it was better than being at home, crying over Dave.  What a shock it had been when she discovered that he’d been paying other women for sex.  I thought we had a happy marriage and a healthy sex life.

 “Vera? What are you doing here?” It was Dave.

I should ask you the same question.

“You shouldn’t be here. I’ll call a taxi.”

“Why can’t you take me home?”

“I have an engagement.”

She slid off the stool.  “Yes, I think she just showed up.”

 

100 Words

 

This story was inspired by an article about wives and girlfriends who discovered that their men were paying for sex.  We often hear stories about the women in the sex industry, but we don’t hear much about the women whose men pay for these services.

This was written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields For more details, visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  The Telegraph

 

Nils

She stood there, smiling and trying to act like she was interested in what the guy in the green shirt was saying when he walked by.  Their eyes met and she caught the tantalizing scent of his aftershave.  She had noticed him the moment he entered the room.  His spiky blond hair, strong, square jawline, piercing blue eyes, flaring nostrils and amazing looking lips made her head spin.  Underneath the navy blue silk shirt she could see his bulging muscles and body.  He looked away and her eyes followed him to see where he was going.  She saw him head over to the bar and sit down on one of the stools, leaning over and resting those massive arms on the counter.

She turned to the guy in the green shirt who hadn’t missed a beat  and was still talking about the latest in technology and smiling sweetly, she said, “Excuse me, I just spotted someone I know.”  She walked away.

She headed straight for the bar, her heart beating faster with each step.  She went and stood right next to him.  When she turned her head, he was looking at her and she could see from the expression on his face that he liked what he saw.  She knew she looked good in the off the shoulder black dress.  This close, he was even more devastating and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.  Her stomach was doing bizarre things.  “Where’s the guy I saw you with?” he asked.

“I ditched him,” she admitted and saw his eyebrows arch.  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.  He seemed like a nice guy but I just wasn’t interested and rather than stringing him along, I excused myself and here I am.”

“His loss,” he remarked.  “May I buy you a drink?”

“Sure.  What are you having?”

“A Blood Orange Punch.”

“Hmmm.  Sounds interesting.  Does it have alcohol in it, though?”

He shook his head.  “No.”

She slid onto the stool beside him.  “I’ll have one, then.  Thank you.”

After he ordered the drinks, he held out his hand.  “Nils.”

“Corinne.”  When their fingers touched, she felt a spark that rendered her a little breathless.  She was happy to note that he wasn’t wearing a wedding band.  “Nils.  That’s a Swedish name, isn’t it?”

He nodded with a smile.  “Yes.  I was born in Sweden but moved here with my parents when I was five.  What about you?”

“My parents are from Nigeria but I was born here.”

“You know you’re easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting?”

She lowered her eyes, feeling self-conscious.  “And you’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes darkened.  “After we’re done here, I’d like to take you back to my place and…”

She laughed, her pulse racing as their eyes met.  “Do you usually work this fast?” she asked.

He shook his head.  “No, not usually but then I never met a woman like you before.  While I’m sitting here talking to you, all I can think about is how good you would look in my bed.”

“All right. Let’s finish our drinks and then leave.” She had never done this before and it was both terrifying and thrilling.

They talked some more as they drank the Blood Orange Punch.  As soon as both glasses were empty, they bade Michelle, their hostess, goodnight and left.  Michelle watched them go, a smile on her face.  Good for you, Corinne, she thought to herself.

A short ride in his Ferrari brought them to his flat which overlooked the Thames River.  As soon as he closed the door and locked it, she was in his arms and his lips were ravaging hers.  Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as she responded wildly to his kisses.  And then, he swept her off her feet and carried her to his bedroom.

The next morning when she came out of the bathroom, he was lying on his stomach, completely uncovered and she felt her body respond.  “I should go,” she said, although she didn’t want to.

“Stay and have breakfast with me,” he suggested.

“All right.”  Her heart lurched when he climbed out of the bed and walked over to her.

“Let’s make it a late breakfast,” he murmured as he pulled her into his arms.

They ended up having a very late breakfast and many more breakfasts after that.  In a couple of months, they were engaged and then in the following Spring they got married.  Michelle was her maid of honor.

Corinne never imagined that when she went to Michelle’s launch party, she would meet her soulmate.  A smile touched her lips as she remembered the quote,When your eyes met mine, my soul pointed at you and whispered to my heart, “Him..”  Yes, Nils was definitely her soulmate.  She squealed now as he picked her up and ran towards the foamy waters as they licked the white sandy beach of Bora Bora.

 

Sources:  BBC Good Food; Best Image Quotes; Quotes ‘nd Notes

Mateo

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

The framed shirt of soccer icon Diego Maradona hanging on the wall was a painful reminder of what happened several weeks ago.  In a parking lot of a bar in Medellín, her fiancé Mateo was gunned down because he scored an own goal which led to his team’s elimination from the World Cup.  Their wedding was to take place later that year.  He was only 25.  In memory of his death, his older brother, Santiago founded the Mateo Garcia Project to help disadvantaged children learn to play soccer.

She sat in a sports bar in New York City, surrounded by soccer fans preparing to watch the match between France and Argentina.  She avoided looking at the television set.

She glanced at her watch.  Santiago should be here any minute.  It was his idea to come here for brunch.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he apologized when he joined her.  “Traffic was heavy.”

“You’re not late,” she said.  “I came five minutes ago.”

“How’re you, Valeria?”

“Mateo Jr. and I are doing fine,” she said, patting her stomach.

Santiago looked regretful.  “His Dad should be here.”

“He is here,” she said, covering her heart.  “Where he will always be.”

 

196 Words

 

This was inspired by the true story of Andres Escobar who lost his life when he scored an own goal in the World Cup 1994 match between Colombia and the United States.  It was written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction.  For more details visit Here.

To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  Wikipedia