Heels of Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) Page 6
I walked into the Pike Place store and the service was on point. Immediately, the man behind the counter greeted me with a wide smile. The service was speedy fast. I ordered some black and white cookies and Naked Juice. I made it to the restaurant five minutes after I was done with the evaluation, and he was already waiting on me. He had showered and changed. He now wore a long sleeve pullover with a pair of khakis, brown loafers, and a brown jacket. His hair was still a little wet and pulled up in this funky ponytail. He looked amazing, and I honestly think he had no idea.
We both had lemon water and a cup of soup. I ordered the PNW Salad, and he had the Salmon Grille Sauce Homard. We started the talk before our entrees arrived.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’m not that guy,” he pleaded. I watched him, and he was seriously concerned.
“Look, I’m from the South and you having a knife or a switchblade isn’t an issue. The problem I have with you is that you didn’t tell me. You left it in your stupid shorts pocket. I could have lost my fucking hand,” I snapped at him.
He gave me a wide smile and then he pulled my bandaged hand into his. “I’m sorry,” he smiled.
“I accept your apology.” We finished our lunch, and I had an hour and fifteen minutes to spare. I desperately needed to get an hour of shopping in. I started to say goodbye to Jyme, but he stopped me.
“You said you had a two hour gap; we still have plenty of time.
“I do, but since I’m staying in Seattle this week, I desperately need to buy a few things to hold me over.”
“From where?” he asked.
“Over on Northeast Northgate Way.”
“Okay, I’m heading that way. Follow me there,” he said.
“You’re going to Northgate Way?”
“I’m going to Northeast Northgate Way,” he corrected.
“You are such a bad liar.”
“And something’s telling me you are way too good at it,” he said.
I smiled at him. “But you will never know the truth.” I teased.
“I’ll learn you soon enough.” We left in separate cars for Northeast Northgate Way.
Chapter 4
And Then?
I picked up a sequin tee, a tuxedo-front long sleeve in white and black, a shimmering drape neck shell, a palette sequin cami, three non-iron, button-down shirts, a sequin poncho, an ikat sequin embellished blouse, a sequin trim knit cardigan, and a dolman wedge sweater. I then added three pairs of jeans, two pair of trousers, and one pencil skirt. I had to turn and go back to the intimates. I got five matched sets and two nightgowns.
After all my coupons and credits, my total added up to be $1,360.41. Jyme handed his credit card to the sales associate. I looked over at him, and he wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“I’ve money to spend here,” I snapped.
“So do I,” he said. The sales associate handed him his card back, and he signed the pen pad in front of him. She gave him the receipt, and then he looked at the bottom of it. “Look, you saved $386 dollars,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed four of the bags while he grabbed the other six. I slammed my bags into the trunk of the rental and waited for Jyme to put his bags in so I could go. I held the trunk door open with my arm and my purse and keys in the other hand. He slowly placed each bag in one at a time. He was really pissing me off now. He put the last bag in the trunk, and I was all prepared to slam it, but he caught it and yanked me in front of him. We were both staring at the trunk full of bags.
He wrapped his arms around me and unhooked my coat. He placed both of his hands under my shirt. Then, he told me to close the coat back up. I obeyed like a good little girl. He pulled both cups of my bra down, and then he started seducing the flat quarter. He dug his face in my hair until he reached my ear. “Is anybody watching us?”
I looked around. “No,” I whined out, “No.”
“Look at each and every car facing us,” he demanded. I looked at every single car slowly, and then, those quarters were turning into erasers fast. Jyme made me check every single car. He made me whisper to him what color I was watching each time.
“Oh God, what about the people behind us,” I moaned.
“They don’t matter; they can’t see you,” he assured. He licked my ear and got even closer to me. “Do you feel that on your back?” he asked.
“Yes.” I answered. “It wants you, badly. Do you want it?” Each word he spoke made me tingle deep down inside.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Are you scared of it?”
Those erasers were now about to break off. I couldn’t take much more of this. “Jyme.”
“Shhhhh. Answer me,” he demanded.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Why?”
“Oh God…Because it’s too big.” I answered.
“I told you I would take my time with you. I wouldn’t go fast, and I would go nice and slow. And you would be just as wet, if not more, than you are right now.” he assured.
I made some serious gargling noises. I was at the edge and about to jump off.
“Now do you want it?” he asked.
“Yes,” I shifted and leaned closer up against him.
“I’ve wanted to do this to you ever since you brought those luscious things out at the restaurant,” he explained.
I shifted myself again, and I was about to blow my top.
“Are you scared of it?” he asked.
“NO,” I growled.
He chuckled and then he removed one of his hands, and then he pulled my head around until his lips met mine. He gave me lots of tongue, and the next thing I knew, both of his hands were out of my shirt and he was walking away from me, heading towards his truck.
I watched him with my mouth wide open. I was sizzling all over, and he just left me standing here like this. I was ten times madder at him than before. I melted into the driver’s seat. I looked in the glove compartment and blessed the baby wipes I had in there. When I made it to my next assignment, I went straight to bathroom with the baby wipes in my purse. I needed a serious shower after that lust session in the parking lot, but the wipes would have to do for now.
The bathroom on this assignment was actually disgusting. The trash looked as if it hadn’t been emptied in a good long while; the floor was grimy, and the soap dispenser was empty. I snapped a few quick pictures and forwarded them to D’Artagnan.
When I stepped out into the shop, it didn’t get any better. The floor needed mopping, trash needed pulling, and the sugars were empty. The employees all looked bored, and no one was smiling. I remembered that when I walked in I was not greeted at all. I snapped a few quick pictures since no one was paying me any attention. I pretended I was texting all the while I was recording and snapping pictures.
I got another Naked Juice and tried to get a muffin, but they were out. I then tried a slice of the cake of the day, and then I moved on down to the cookies. I bit into one of the three cookies I ordered, and there were hard as bricks. This location was out of everything, and it was only three thirty; they still had another five and a half hours in the day to go. D’Artagnan had told me when something like this happens; he needed to get emergency assistance in the shop. I would call this location a warzone, and it needed a cleanup crew badly. I had to hurry up and get out of the shop before someone remembered what I looked like. Although I don’t think anyone here would remember anything.
I got into the rental and called D’Artagnan’s cell phone. O said he was out sick, but he hadn’t given me any information on how to contact him when he was out. The phone rang two times, and then he answered.
“Cricket?” I knew this conversation would be awkward, but I would have to grit through it.
“D’Artagnan, I know you’re sick, and I apologize for calling you like this
but-”
“Cricket, you can call me anytime, no matter what,” he stated.
“Well, I’m at my last assignment for today, and thi
s shop needs an emergency clean-up crew” I rushed. I told D’Artagnan that I had forwarded pictures and two videos of the shop. He told me he had received them, and then he told me to get out of the parking lot so he could make a call to the district. I pulled out of the parking lot, letting him know that no one in that shop would remember anything. He told me I had done a superb job with all of my evaluations and that he was extremely proud of me.
We had an awkward silence, and then I bolted into the elephant on the phone. “O is going to contact you about me moving up to the tenth floor. I told her that the eighth floor was extremely noisy, and I hardly got any sleep. So I would greatly appreciate your approval on this issue,” I stated.
There was silence on the phone, and then he cleared his voice.
“Cricket…I’m-”
I interrupted him, “That’s all I have for you today.”
“Okay, that’s good. I will contact O immediately. And I will talk to you tomorrow,” he said.
I disconnected the line and sucked in a deep breath. My top lip was sweating, and I felt hot. I cracked the window, so I could get some fresh air as I drove to the office.
I got the new key from O and handed her my old one. O was a professional; she knew something was up, but she didn’t pry. I stepped into my office, and my phone chimed. I recognized the unsaved number and gave the phone a huge grin. “Hello,” I tried to sound annoyed.
“Hi,” he teased. I felt the heat rising in the back of my neck. I walked over to my office door, shutting it.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” he still taunted.
“Is there something I can help you with Mr. Samson?” I asked.
“How do you feel about Creole food?” he asked.
“It’s fine.” I answered.
“But do you like it?” he asked.
“I’ve been to Louisiana several times, and I enjoyed the food.”
“Pick you up at six?”
“Alright.”
“Are you still upset with me?”
“NO.” I growled.
“Well, if that’s no, I don’t want to hear your yes,” he chuckled.
I couldn’t help it; I grinned from ear to ear.
“Ah, there it is. Did I hear a smile approach your face?”
I cleared my throat, and then I was back to serious. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” At that very moment O buzzed me and told me I had another delivery. “I have to go,” I grinned into the phone.
“Can you do me a favor?” he asked.
“What?” I snapped. “Can you wear that sparkly off the shoulder piece tonight?”
I sucked in a deep breath, my heart was racing now. Just the thought of his hands on me made my mouth water. I blew out a slow breath, and then I calmed myself. “I will see what I can do. See you at six.” I hung up and went right to reception area.
The sight of this delivery was…the vase was massive, and it had that cracked look, and it held the most peculiar flowers I had ever seen. All of them were amazing, but there was one that stood out from them all. You could tell the florist had arranged all the other flowers around this one. There were twenty-eight flowers, and there was a syllabus to explain what each one was. The one flower that caught everyone’s passing eye was something called a Rafflesia Arnoldii Corpse. It had no stems, leaves or visible roots. It had five buds that were each the size of cabbages. It was blood red with beige spots all over it. The arrangement now had groupies surrounding it. Everyone was mesmerized with the arrangement. O looked as if she would cry if I removed it from her desk. I plucked the card out and gave it one last sniff. “Enjoy them O,” I called out to her.
“Ohh, Cricket!” she crooned. I walked back towards my office. I could hear more people walking up admiring the flowers. I heard O tell each one of them, “Oh, they’re not mine, but one of bosses insisted that they stay here for everyone to admire,” she chanted.
I closed my office door and opened the card. “I hope you enjoy these bold and very non-boring flowers.” I pulled my phone out immediately and went straight to the contacts. I stored Jyme’s name and gave him a very special ringtone: Beyoncé’s, Video Phone. That song meant a lot to me even though the lyrics hadn’t a thing to do with him.
Randy buzzed me at five fifty advising me that Mr. Samson was on his way up. I unlocked the door and stood there for his arrival. I had managed to wear the little sparkly off the shoulder number he had requested. I decided to wear my hair up in a rhinestone banana clip. He wanted my neck exposed for some reason; he wouldn’t have asked me to wear this shirt otherwise. I wore dark denim stiletto jeans with sparkly platforms. I had diamond hoops in my ears, and I wore a gaudy ring. My make-up was flawless, all except for my lip gloss, which resided in my clutch. He opened the door, and I walked towards him. He froze as I sauntered over. He wore a black fitting V-neck t-shirt with a grey opened vest, denim pants, and a pair of black boots. His ponytail was underneath a black fedora. He shut the door, and I wrapped my arms around him.
“Thank you for the flowers.” I pressed my lips against his, and he pressed me against the sidewall. His fingers intertwined with my silver chain belt. We kissed very nosily, and our breathing belonged in a porn video. His hand rubbed every inch of me, and I tried to mimic him. My cell phone chimed, and we stopped, both of us breathing as if we ran a marathon.
I pulled away from him and walked over to my clutch. I had a missed call from the front desk. I called the number back, and Randy told me that I had a delivery. He said he would send it right up. I went into the new and massive bedroom and applied my lip gloss.
This new condo was even more amazing than the other. This one had two bedrooms and three walk-in closets. I also had two and half baths and two balconies. This color scheme was silver, grays, and royal blue, and I loved it.
There was knocking at the door, and I asked Jyme to get it. After I applied my lip liner and lip gloss, I walked back into the living room. There was an arrangement of a dozen white roses sitting on the coffee table. I looked at Jyme puzzled. And he gave me the same look right back. I walked over to the arrangement and plunked out the card. It read, “Please consider this arrangement as my white flag” and it was signed D’Artagnan.
“These are from my boss,” I explained.
“The drunk guy from last night?” he looked annoyed.
“Yes.” I answered.
Jyme held the elevator door for me as I stepped out.
“Why is he sending you flowers?”
“I guess he felt bad about last night.”
“Are you going to keep them?”
“Jyme, there just flowers.”
“Whatever,” he said with an attitude. I reached for his hand and he ignored me. I put my hand into his and he finally closed his hand around mine. We walked hand in hand towards the front desk; Randy stood and straightened his jacket. “Ms. Hooper.”
“CRICKET!” I growled.
“Cricket.” He smiled at me, and I ginned back.
“If you don’t mind me saying Mr. Samson, Cricket, you’re a vision,” he explained. I felt my cheeks heat up, and I thanked Randy for his compliment. Jyme nodded back at him.
The door attendant held the door for us, and Jyme helped me into the truck. I immediately looked over the back seat to make sure we were alone; we were.
We walked into The New Orleans Creole Restaurant. There was jazz music playing, and everyone looked cheerful and upbeat. We sat immediately and ordered lemon water. I had the Eggplant Lafitte with a side salad, and Jyme ordered the Oyster Bayou with a side of red beans and rice. We both oohed and ahhed through the entire meal. The food was good, and I told him this was my new favorite spot. We ordered a bag of beignets to go. Jyme swore we could eat them at the amphitheater. We made it twenty minutes early; I grabbed the beignet bag, and he went to the back of the truck. He pulled out a cooler, a large piece of plastic, and two blankets. Once we made it down the stairs, he told me to take off my shoes. He pulled his off, and I did t
he same; we walked onto the grass barefoot. Once we had made it down the small hill, I could see why he packed what he did. Everyone was stretched out on the ground. We passed a few people that spoke to him by name.
Once we got up towards the front, everyone started calling him Lil Samson and nodding at me. He found the spot he wanted and laid the plastic down putting both blankets on top. He helped me down to the ground and then joined me. He opened the cooler, and it was filled with Perrier water, and canned Cokes. A few people walked by, spoke to Jyme, and then stared at me. It made me feel a little uncomfortable and out of place. Jyme told me that they were not used to seeing him with anyone. He said he was a loner, so this was new for them. I felt better after he explained the situation.
The lights came up on the stage, and the strings started. They first played a little whimsical number, then a bolder piece, and then a soothing light piece. A few of the couples stood up and started slow dancing to the music. It was very sweet, and I turned around and around watching them all. Some were seated, as couples were up dancing, snuggling, kissing, or dancing to the music. Jyme kissed the side of my exposed neck, and then he shifted around me. I was now sitting in between his legs and I felt my neck get hot. He wrapped his arms around me, and I laid both of my arms on top of his. The strings played slow pieces for the rest of the concert. Jyme kissed my exposed neck repeatedly. He took his time, and he didn’t rush. He did the tracing of the palm thing again, and I felt like a stupid naive teenager. This man gave me chills, and I couldn’t imagine any other place I would rather be. It had only been three days, but in these short days, I had such strong feeling for him. I turned to kiss him, and it was soft, gentle and sweet.
We gathered our things after the concert, and several people came up to him. I noticed almost everyone in the audience was Native American. I could count the few people that were not on my hand. Then, I remembered all of the string players were Native American as well. The grass was covered with people now, many more than I saw when we first got here. Most of the Native Americans had tattoos and exposed piercings of some sort. It made me a little nervous, and I moved closer to Jyme, wrapping my arms around him. He was talking to a group of people, and he turned to kiss me on my forehead. He pulled me closer to him, and after a few more long minutes, they said their farewells and we departed. I looped my finger into his belt loops on his jeans. The crowd was so thick, and I didn’t want to get separated from him.