The Barbecue

“You’re not his type.” If that smile were meant to take the sting out of her words it didn’t work.  Kay was smarting from it.  “I don’t mean to upset you, Kay but I thought I would warn you because I have seen the way you look at Quinn every time you see him.  I don’t want you to fool yourself into thinking that a man like him would notice someone like you.”

Kay tried to remain calm.  They were riding down in the lift to the indoor parking lot of their office building.  “What do you mean someone like me?” she asked.  “What is wrong with me?”  She knew that this had nothing to do with race because Joanna’s son was married to a Somalian girl whom she adored.

“I have seen the women Quinn has been involved with and you nothing like them.  For one thing, they are stunning, sophisticated and move in high circles.  You are out of your league.”

“I may not be stunning, sophisticated and move in high society but I have a lot going for me.”  She wondered what Joanna would say if she knew that for the past several weeks she and Quinn had been seeing each other.

“When I invited you to my home and you were introduced to him, I didn’t expect you to get any fanciful ideas about him.  He’s a bachelor and enjoys being one but if he decides to settle down one day, I can say with great certainty that it won’t be with someone like you.”

They had reached the parking lot and the doors of the lift opened.

“You have made your point, Joanna.  Now, if you will excuse me, I need to be getting home.”  She left the lift and walked briskly to her car, fuming.  What a great way to start the weekend.  She unlocked her car, climbed in and slammed the door.  As she turned the key in the ignition, she saw that her hand was trembling.  How she hated scenes like that.  She and Joanna had never really gotten along.  They tolerated each other because they worked together.  She found the older woman to be infuriating and condescending.  Granted, Quinn was her brother but he was a grown man who didn’t need her to interference in his love life.

Quinn.  The memories of their first meeting flooded her mind.  It was on a Sunday and Joanna had invited her co-workers to her country cottage for a barbecue.  She went with another co-worker and as they were walking up to the area where the chairs and tables were set up, she noticed a tall, handsome and sexy man sitting on a wooden bar. Hmmmm, she thought.  He looked incredible in the white shirt and tan colored pants.  His premature gray hair was very flattering; it actually suited him, although she could see that he was in his late thirties.  She turned to her friend, “Who’s that?” she asked.

Jenny smiled.  “He is gorgeous, isn’t he?” she agreed.  “That’s Quinn, Joanna’s brother. He’s looking this way.  Let’s go over and I’ll introduce you to him.”

Kay’s heart lurched.  “Do I look all right?” she asked nervously.  She was wearing a dark green scarf over her head and loosely wrapped around her neck because she wanted to look chic and a light green dress which complimented her slim figure.

Jenny touched her arm reassuringly.  “You look great.”

They went over to Quinn who slid down from where he was perched; his eyes went first to Kay, then Jenny and back to Kay where they stayed.  By now Kay’s heart was beating wildly and her feet felt wobbly but she resolved to appear calm even though she was far from feeling so.  This close, he was even more devastatingly handsome and his light brown eyes framed by long, dark eyelashes captivated her.  She felt as if she would drown in them.

Jenny looked at one and then the other, amused.  “Hello Quinn,” she said, greeting him and he had to drag his gaze away from Kay to look at her.

“Hello Jenny,” he said with a smile.  Then, as if unable to resist, his gaze shifted to Kay.  “Who’s your friend?” he asked.

“This is Kay.”

He held out his hand.  “Hello Kay.”  He smiled at her and she felt her heart stop.

She took his hand and felt his fingers clasp hers in a firm handshake.  “Hello,” she mumbled.  She felt a bolt of electricity surge through her at feel of his warm palm against hers.  Those eyes were so mesmerizing.  Did he have any idea of the effect he was having on her?

“Where’s Joanna?” Jenny asked.

“She’s probably in the kitchen,” he told her.  He was still holding Kay’s hand.

“I’ll go and see what I can help her with,” Jenny said.  “Excuse me.”  She winked at Kay before she walked away.

Now they were alone and Kay felt extremely shy and nervous.  She didn’t know what to do.  She was not used to having a man like Quinn staring at her, making it obvious that he was attracted to her.  She was sure that Jenny was going to tease her about it.  “What-what a lovely place Joanna has,” she stammered, looking away.  “It seems quiet and peaceful.”

“Am I making you nervous?” he asked, releasing her hand.  “I don’t mean to.”

“It’s all right,” she said turning her head towards him again.  “Did you come by yourself?”

“Yes.  I am alone or was alone until you came. I want to enjoy more of your company.  Would you like to take a walk in the English countryside?  We won’t go far or Joanna will be miffed.”

She nodded and fell into step with him.  As they walked, she began to relax and open up, admiring the lush, rolling hills and the sheep grazing peacefully.  It was truly a glorious experience being there in the countryside with its magnificent views–a welcome change from the city.

They talked about all sorts of things and she laughed at his childhood stories.  When they returned to the cottage, everyone was gathering around the tables where the food was laid out and helping themselves.  Everything looked appetizing. They ended up sitting at separate tables, much to her disappointment.  He was at Joanna’s table while she was at the same one as Jenny. After they finished eating, Quinn took her to the little river and bridge where they spent the rest of the afternoon until it was time to go.

Before they parted company, he asked for her phone number.  “I enjoyed our time together,” he told her as they stood under the tree.

She smiled.  “Me too.”

“I will call you,” he promised before he took her hand and raised it to his lips.  “Goodnight, Kay.”  Her skin tingled.

“Goodnight, Quinn.”  He released her hand, albeit reluctantly and she could feel him watching her as she headed to the cottage to say goodbye to Joanna and the remaining guests and get a ride home with Jenny.

True to his word, Quinn called her the following evening and they spoke for hours on the phone, making plans to see each other and have been seeing each other since.

Stirring from her reverie now, she decided that she would go over to his place instead of going home.   She needed to be with him now even though they had made plans for tomorrow.  She went straight up as the man in the concierge recognized her.  She rang the doorbell and a few minutes later the door opened and Quinn was standing there.  He was dressed in a black tee shirt and jeans.  “Hello,” he said.  He pulled her inside and closed the door.  “What a pleasant surprise.”

“I was on my way home but decided to come here instead because I really needed to be with you tonight.  I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you.”

His eyes darkened and as he removed her jacket, he began to kiss her.  She kissed him back, struggling to free her arms from the sleeves so that she could put them around his neck.  Finally, they were free and she clung to him as she was pressed against the door.   The jacket was discarded on the floor at their feet and his arms arms went around her waist as they exchanged fiery kisses until he raised his head to gaze down into her face, his own flushed.  “I love you, Kay,” he muttered huskily. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” she said in a raspy voice, “I do, Quinn.”

“Stay with me tonight, then.  Now that you are here now, I don’t want you to leave.  I want to wake up in the morning with you next to me.  Say you will stay.”

“Yes, I’ll stay…” Her voice trailed off as his lips sought hers again.

 

 

 

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Resistance is Futile

After a few moments into the movie, she switched off the television.  No use in wasting time watching a film that didn’t synchronize with the sound.  Besides, she was distracted. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jude Beresford.

When they first met, she couldn’t stand him.  He oozed a sensuality that was palpable. While it got her pulse going, it made her blood boil.  She couldn’t stand men who knew that they were gorgeous and flaunted it.  She was determined that she wasn’t going to fall for his charm or his looks.  She had a visceral dislike of men like him.

So, when her friend Brooke brought him and his brother over to meet her, she was considerably cool toward him but very friendly toward Crispin.  She ignored the fact that when they shook hands and his eyes met hers and his lips parted in a disarming smile, her heart skipped a beat.  She wanted to leave him in no doubt that she was not taken in by him.

When she and Brooke were alone, her friend asked her, “What’s up with you ?” she asked.  “You weren’t very friendly to Jude.  He’s a really nice man once you get to know him.”

“He seems conceited to me,” she said, casting a look of disdain in his direction.  “And it’s disgusting to see how women throw themselves at him.”

“You are wrong about him.”

“I don’t think so,” she insisted and her friend dropped it.  It was no use arguing about it.

She couldn’t avoid seeing him.  He was Brooke’s friend and she invited him to every event and social that she invited her to.  She sincerely hoped that Brooke wasn’t trying to set them up.  It was a waste of time. She was not interested in him.  Not wanting to be rude, she would engage in conversations with him, though she always made it clear to him that she was not attracted to him.   What that must do to his ego, she thought each time they were together, especially when she made a point of asking him about Crispin.  She noticed that it nettled him.

Crispin was not at all like his older brother.  He was fairly handsome but more reserved. There was no resemblance between the two men.  Jude was tall, slender with jet black hair and dark brown eyes while Crispin was blond with green eyes and shorter.   He was not as charming as Jude but she liked him.  She felt safe and completely relaxed with him unlike Jude who troubled her more than she cared to admit.

Last night after having the dinner which Brooke had spent all day preparing, Deana went out onto the terrace, gazing at the twinkling lights of the city in the distance. Crispin joined her.  “Deana, forgive me if I am being presumptuous,” he said, apologetically.  “but how long are you and Jude going to pretend that you don’t like each other?”

His question startled her and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.  Then, she said, “I can’t speak for him, but I’m not pretending.”

“I have seen the way you look at each other when you think no one is noticing.  It’s obvious to me that you are attracted to each other.  Don’t you think it’s time to stop playing games and admit how you feel to–?”

Just then, Jude came on to the terrace.  Deana’s heart lurched.  Their eyes met and then she rushed past him.  Shortly after that, she went home.

Stirring herself from her reverie, she got up from the sofa and went to the window.  It was early evening.  She wondered if she should go for a walk.  She could do with some fresh air. It would clear her mind.  She turned away and was about to head to the washroom to freshen up when the doorbell rang.

She went to the door and peered through the keyhole, her eyes widening when she saw Jude standing there.  At once, her heart started to pound.  She was tempted to keep him standing out there but she opened the door, her eyes wary as they met his.  “I didn’t expect to see you,” she said, unable to prevent her eyes from travelling over his tall frame.  He looked incredible in the dark grey suit and the white shirt and tie.  He must have just left his office or perhaps he was on his way out but for some reason, decided to stop by here first.  She told herself that she didn’t care.  She was going to wrap this up as quickly as possible and send him on his way.

“Perhaps you were expecting to see Crispin instead,” he said, his expression darkening.  The glint in his eyes startled her.

“Why would I be expecting Crispin?” she asked, stepping aside so that he could go in. After she closed the door, she turned to face him.  She could see the displeasure in his features.  Then it dawned on her.  “Do you think I am interested in Crispin?”

“Yes.”  The word was like a hiss.  “Every time we see each other you ask me about him.  I get the impression that you would prefer his company over mine.”

“I like Crispin, yes, but—”

“I saw you with him last night on the terrace.  As soon as I came you left.  I asked him what you and he talked about but he didn’t tell me.  He told me to speak to you.  Tell me the truth, Deana, is there something going on between Crispin and you?”

She shook her head.  “No,” she admitted.  “There’s nothing between us.”

He raked his fingers through his hair in agitation.  “Then, why were you always throwing him in my face, making me think that you preferred him to me.”

“I wanted to deflate your ego,” she told him.  “You seemed conceited to me and I wanted to show you that I was not like one of those women who were literally throwing themselves at you.”

“You’re wrong about me, Deana.  I’m not conceited.  And I’m not interested in any woman except you.”

Now her heart was racing and she seemed to have trouble breathing.  He had stepped closer to her, his eyes capturing hers and holding them prisoner.  “You’re wasting your time if you think you can seduce me,” she said, sounding a bit breathless.

“I’m not trying to seduce you.”

She was pressed against the door as the space between them got smaller.  “Then, what are you trying to do?”  She wondered if the feelings that were churning inside her showed in her face.  Did he detect the panic in her voice?

“I’m trying to show you how I feel,” he said softly.  “How I’ve felt since the first time we met.”  Before she could say another word, he lowered his head and kissed her.

Instead of pushing him away or clamping her lips together, she responded.  Her defenses were completely gone.  Resisting now was pointless.  Try as she did, she could no longer deny that in spite of all her best efforts, she was hooked.

 

The Photo Shoot

She had photographed many men but this one took the cake.  This was her first trip to Scotland for a photo shoot for the fashion magazine she worked for.  She had never seen a man in a kilt before but this guy looked incredible in the traditional garb.  He wore it extremely well.  And those smoldering eyes and rugged looks didn’t hurt.

She willed herself to remain professional and just do the job at hand.  However, she couldn’t help wishing that she could exchange places with the glamorous woman standing beside him.  Perhaps, she could ask the woman to take a photo of her with him after the shoot and…

Don’t be silly, she chided herself.  You are here to do a job.  Just do it.  

She continued clicking away and was relieved when it was over.  She was packing up her gear when he joined her.  She tried not to give away the fact that she was as nervous as a schoolgirl with a crush and smiled sedately.

“Callum,” he said with that Scottish lilt that was as disarming as his smile.

She held out her hand.  “Holly.”  He clasped it in firm but warm handshake.  She felt a bolt of electricity course through her body.  Their eyes met and held for what seemed like eternity.  He was holding her hand a lot longer than was necessary, not that she minded, of course, but she could feel her face grow hot.  He seemed to realize it too and released her hand, almost apologetically.

“Is this your first time in Edinburgh?” he asked, after clearing his throat.

“It’s my first time in Scotland.”

“How long are you here for?”

“I’m here for another two weeks.  I’m here for the International Fashion Festival and after that I’m off to Glasgow to check out the boutiques.  Then it’s back to London.”

“If you’re not busy tomorrow, I’d like to take you out for lunch and then on a tour around the city.”

She couldn’t believe it.  He wanted to take her out to lunch and show her around Edinburgh.  “I’d like that,” she said.  “I’ll get a chance to try your national dish.”

He laughed.   “I’ll take you to best place where they serve Haggis,” he promised.

“It’s a deal.”  Not only was he handsome but he was really friendly and easygoing.  She felt very relaxed with him and was looking forward to seeing him the next day.  She wrote down the name of the hotel where she was staying and handed it to him.  “Bye.”

“See you tomorrow, Holly.”  Oh, how good her name sounded in the Scottish accent, she thought as she walked away.  She made a mental note to thank Margo for assigning her to the photo shoot here in Scotland instead to the one in Paris.

Slide1

Sources:  Culture Trip; Edinburgh International Fashion Festival

The Move to Paris

It took a lot of moxie to get her here to Paris

but it is her faith in God that keeps her going.

Leaving Toronto with its familiar

haunts, a job she loved, family and friends

to settle in a city she had only visited once

wasn`t an easy thing to do at all.  She didn`t

think she had it in her.  Her friends rooted for her,

and already made plans to visit her in the

summer but her family was a different

story.

 

Her mother didn`t like the idea of her being in

Europe all by herself and was fearful of terrorist

attacks.  Mia had to remind her that she was old

enough to take herself.  And she assured her that

God would protect her.

 

Her father warned her to be careful of the

French men.  And her sister, well, she was glad

to see her go because it meant that she didn`t

have to share the bath-room with her anymore.

And she could move into Mia`s room which

was much bigger and nicer than hers.

 

Mia paused to look at the Eifle Tower.  She was

here to begin a new life, on her own.  It had

always been a dream of hers to live in Europe.

She had considered London, Rome, Barcelona

and Lisbon but she decided on Paris.  She could

speak French fluently and she loved the food.

And besides, she could always take the train or

the Hovercraft to London any time.

 

Upon her arrival in Paris, she applied for a

job to teach English and was accepted.  Her first

day on the job was tomorrow.  Her heart did

a little somersault.  The thought of standing

in front of a classroom was daunting.  Then she

heard the words, “Fear not: for I am with thee.

Peace filled her heart and she offered a silent

prayer of thanksgiving.

 

She asked one of the people standing nearby to

take a photo of her.  Her first Sunday afternoon in

Paris.  She smiled broadly into the camera.  Paris

is a beautiful city and she had all the time she

needed to enjoy it.  For now she was content to

stay here a little longer and just soak up the

atmosphere and admire the view.

 

Asian woman in Paris

Paul’s Example

Upon his arrival at Rome, Paul was placed in a gloomy dungeon, there to remain until his course should be finished. Accused of instigating one of the basest and most terrible of crimes against the city and the nation, he was the object of universal execration – Acts of the Apostles, p.490

Day 4 of the Great Controversy Tour.  She had decided to come on it with her friend.

A lover of Christian history and travel, it was an opportunity she could not pass up. Today’s focus was on The Early Christian Persecutions.  After a buffet breakfast, they visited the Colosseum, the Arch of Constantine, Titus’ Arch, the Roman Forum and Mamertine Prison.  The ancient prison is located at the foot of the Capitoline Hill in Rome.  According to the travel guide, the Mamertine Prison had two gloomy underground cells where Rome’s conquered enemies were imprisoned and died, of starvation or strangulation.  It was where the apostle Paul was confined.  She paused to take some photos before going inside.  She took a photo of the sign which read the “prison of the Saints and Apostles Peter and Paul.”

As she began to descend into the dark coldness, she thought of Paul being a sick, old man, cruelly thrown in there and friendless, except for Luke and Onesiphorus whose frequent visits cheered him up.  Luke was a great comfort to him because he enabled him to communicate with fellow believers and the outside world.

It was indeed a very gloomy place.  She shivered.  It was from there that Paul was taken to Nero’s vast judgment hall where he pleaded not for himself but for all the people who could still be reached by the Gospel.  From there he was taken to his execution.  It is believed that Peter also spent his final hours in the prison before he was taken to his execution.

As she listened to the tour guide, she tried to imagine what it would have been like for her to be in prison for her faith.  Would she languish and lose hope or would she be like Paul who wrote such encouraging letters from the prison here in Rome to the different churches.  In his letter to the Philippians, he was rejoicing as he shared his experience. He wrote, “But I want you to know, brothers, that the things which happened to me have resulted in advancing the gospel,  so that my imprisonments in Christ have become known throughout the entire palace guard and to all the rest.  And a great many of the brothers in the Lord, having become confident because of my incarcerations, have dared to speak the word without fear” (Philippians 1:12-14).   He seeing the positive side to all of this.  His adversity brought more people to Christ and his attitude encouraged others.

Could she be like Paul who, although he was in chains, was not chained to his circumstances?  Would her faith hold up?  Then she remembered his words to Timothy: “At my first defense no one stood with me, but everyone forsook me. May it not be charged against them.  But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me, so that through me the preaching might be fully known, and that all the Gentiles might hear” (2 Timothy 2:16, 17).  Paul was never alone.  God was always present.  

Would God be there for her as He was for Paul?  As if in response to her lingering doubts, Isaiah 43:2 came to her mind, “When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown.  When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.” Peace and comfort filled her heart. She had the assurance that no matter what she will face, God will be there with her just as He was with Paul.

 

Carcere Mamertino-2

Sources:  Sacred Destinations; Bible Hub; Blue Letter Bible; Bible Gateway; Roma Today

Florence

She sat at a small table outside of the local cafe set in the maze of

streets near Piazza Antinori.  One could get lost in Florence but won’t

mind at all.  It was a beautiful, bustling and exciting place.  There was

so much to see.

Around her mingled the sound of dishes cutlery, the clink of

glasses as people toasted each other and the voices and laughter

of tourists and locals alike.  She heard French, Spanish, English, Italian.

Whiffs of cappuccino, hot bread and pasta filled the air.  It was early

afternoon.  She had spent the morning visiting the Duomo and the

Antinori palace.  Now she was at this little cafe buzzing with locals,

and enjoying a glass of wine after having delicious Ravioli, drinking

in the friendly ambiance around her as she watched couples, friends,

students on summer break and the locals walk by.

This was her first time in Florence.  She loved it.  She loved the

cobbled streets, the history, the people and of course, the food.

She will definitely stop by this delightful cafe again and try their

Beef tagliata.  Hopefully, she would get a table inside.  Not that

she minded eating on the sidewalk.

This was her first trip alone.  Usually she traveled with her

Sister, June.  June got married a couple years ago and her life

was not wrapped up in her husband and their two children.

No plans for Travel any time soon.

She signed.  Being alone in a city like Florence wasn’t so bad.

She could get used to it.  She could just lose herself in the maze

of streets that now seemed to be beckoning her.

She finished her wine and grabbing her handbag, she

got up and headed to the nearest street.

 

This trip could be her own personal adventure.  Who knows….what

could happen in the city of love…

woman in Florence

Sources:  Tripadvisor; Antinori Palace

Stubborn Faith

He was where he always was, sitting by the road begging. And when he heard that Jesus was there in the city of Jericho, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

It was an urgent cry from a man who was blind.  His world was plunged in darkness.  It was all he knew.  It was what drove him to beg by the side of the road.  It was what filled him with despair.  He could feel the warmth of the sunshine but could not see its brilliance.  He could hear the birds singing but could not see their beauty.

Today, Jesus who healed the sick, gave sight to the blind and made the lame walk, was here in Jericho.  This was a golden opportunity for Bartimaeus to receive his sight.  He knew that Jesus could help him.  He had to cry out.  He did but the crowd told him to be quiet. Stubbornly, he cried out all the more.  This time Jesus heard him and stopped.  He commanded that the man be brought to Him.  The people were encouraging this time and they said to him, “Be of good cheer. Rise, He is calling you.”

Throwing aside his garment, Bartimaeus went to Jesus.  He was throwing aside the life he had known to embrace a new one.  He went to Jesus.

Jesus asked him, “What do you want Me to do for you?” No doubt Jesus knew what he wanted but when we go to the Lord, we must be specific in our petitions.  Bartimaeus answered, “Rabboni, that I may receive my sight.”  This was something that he had always wanted, longed for and now he was about to receive it.

Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus on the road.

Jesus responded to the urgent cry of a blind man whose stubborn faith refused to be silenced or discouraged.  When we cry out the Lord in faith, He will hear us.  He will respond to our greatest need.  And our response is to follow Him.

harold_copping_the_healing_of_the_blind_bartimaeus_700

 

 

Daily Prompt