Love in New York ; Cherish My Heart

by Shirley Hailstock

  “Wine?” André was back and standing in the doorway. “You handed me wineglasses.”

  She opened the refrigerator and pulled a bottle of red wine from the door. She handed it to him, along with a corkscrew.

  It had taken only forty minutes from the time they had come through the door until they were seated at the table.

  “This steak is perfect,” André said. “You really can cook.”

  Susan’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “Was there any doubt?”

  “Maybe a little.” André used his fingers to show a tiny amount.

  “I take it you don’t cook?”

  “I’m an excellent cook,” he said. “My mother made sure we could all cook our own meals. In fact, when we were growing up, it was our duty to prepare dinner at least once a week. And...” He paused, using his hand, palm out, to drive his point. “We couldn’t cook the same thing two weeks in a row. We also could not serve someone else’s leftovers.”

  “She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

  She was also going to be impossible to compete with. While they had still been on the street, André had mentioned marriage. He wasn’t serious and she knew it, but she wondered how he could remain unattached for so long.

  “Your mom sounds like she reared you and your brothers well. How is it you’re still single?”

  His expression changed. It was subtle but she saw it. Immediately Susan knew she’d hit a sore spot.

  “I’m sorry I asked that.” She tried to retract it. “It’s none of my business.”

  André took a long sip of his wine. “There was someone once. We parted three years ago. It didn’t work out.”

  That was all he said. Susan didn’t pursue it. She searched for something to say that would restore the mood. It was obvious that André’s past still affected him. Susan wondered if he was still in love with the woman who’d no doubt broken his heart.

  “How about dessert?” she asked with a smile.

  “You made dessert?” His smile showed he was back in the present.

  “Not exactly made, but I have something.”

  She removed the dinner plates and, in moments, came back with chocolate cake and ice cream topped with caramel syrup, whipped cream, and a cherry garnish.

  “That looks good enough to eat,” he teased. “We mis-hired you. The bakery would have been a better place.”

  They ate in silence. The lights that made New York’s skyline at night available from every street vendor came out in vivid display. Susan left the lights off, and together they watched the outside display its beauty.

  “It’s about time for me to go,” André said an hour later. “I have an early morning.”

  He stood up and Susan joined him.

  “I had a wonderful day,” she said.

  “Me too. Let’s do it again,” he said when they reached the door.

  She knew this was going to be the hardest part of the day. They’d been together since early morning, and she enjoyed his company. She enjoyed talking to him, hearing his stories and even sharing her own. She wanted him to stay, but Susan knew it was better if they parted. He didn’t really know who she was.

  Despite the two of them being adults, she felt like an awkward teenager. Should she let him kiss her good-night? She’d already experienced his kisses—twice. Yet she wanted him to repeat it. And she wanted more. But she was scared of the way he made her feel. Afraid of how much she wanted him.

  Susan looked up. André was standing close to her. His eyes had a smoldering look in them. It made her pulse race. Neither spoke for several seconds. Time seemed to stand still, with everything moving in slow motion. She saw him reach for her. His hands touched her arms and she moved toward him. She couldn’t tell when it happened, but she melted in his arms.

  His mouth came down to cover hers in a hungry embrace as her hands circled his neck, connecting at the nape as she pushed closer to him. Fires inside her leaped into being, carrying her away on an unfamiliar tide of passion. His lips moving against hers, evoked a response that was total and complete. She had been kissed before but never like this, never with this intensity, never with this heat, taking any resistance she might have away from her.

  Emotions she hadn’t known existed battled for dominance as he pressed her farther into the door behind her. His hands roved over her, slipping under her shirt to explore the soft flesh beneath. She moaned lowly as his fingers moved over her back, then around to brush against her nipples, which were already hard and erect.

  His mouth left hers and she dragged breath into her lungs. André moved back enough for her to see him. His eyes asked permission. Susan was beyond refusal. She wanted more from him. She’d wanted it since they’d met at the new-employee orientation. If she was honest with herself, she’d known they would end up here. He wanted her and she wanted him. What could it hurt? She refused to answer that question.

  Her eyes moved up to his. No words were spoken—none were needed. Her arms moved farther up his neck, seemingly with a mind of their own. His arms tightened around her waist until there was no space between them. Susan pulled his head down as she went up on her toes to meet his waiting mouth. It was hot, wet and desirable. Fire burned in her and sprang up around them as they both responded to the inciting need for each other.

  With their mouths still connected, he reached down and slid his arms under her knees. He lifted her. Susan felt suspended, but safe. André carried her into her bedroom. No light illuminated the area, only the ambient light from outside. She floated on the darkness until he stopped. Slowly he let her down. Susan felt the bed give as he laid her on it. His eyes, warm and brilliant with desire, devoured her face, as if he needed to imprint it on his mind. Her eyes traced his features in the subdued light. She didn’t know what she looked like, but she was sure her feelings were evident in her eyes. André kissed her, planting soft, teasing kisses on her cheeks, the hollows under her ears and her throat, touching the rapidly beating pulse before reversing the direction and returning to her mouth, which opened like a flower, allowing him to taste the sweetness inside. Slowly his hands began an exploration of her body as his passion deepened to meet hers, and he quickly undressed her.

  Momentarily afraid, she whispered, “André... I...”

  “Don’t talk,” he said, stopping her, with his voice sounding husky. “Don’t talk, don’t think, just feel.”

  His quiet voice was her undoing. She reached up to pull his mouth back to hers, hearing a low moan in his throat before restraint snapped in him. In seconds he’d discarded his clothes and pulled her back into his arms. He moved his fingers over her body as if he was reading braille, causing tiny fires to ignite along the trails his fingers traversed. She in turn unashamedly memorized every inch of his taut body, pressing her lips to his shoulders, chest and face. She trembled as his body covered hers, feeling the long length of him against her slender frame. His hands were tools of sensation, incinerating the skin along her arms, her throat, and her breasts, and quickly leaving her a mindless mass of emotion. Slowly her desire levels rose higher and higher, and André found every erotic area of her body while his tongue and hands exploited them to the point of a beautiful pain, a pain so sweet that she shuddered, arching herself closer to him.

  He made love to her slowly, entering her body for the first time with such tenderness, she could hardly stand it. She murmured his name time after time, saying it with the same rhythm as the joining of their bodies. Susan moved beneath André. She didn’t have a choice. The pleasure quota she needed to fill pushed her on. Her need for André drove her, and his need for pleasure seemed to rise with hers. Together they reached for more, giving and taking, climbing over hills and mountains, as they reached for the clouds and beyond. There appeared to be no end to their climb. Pleasure took them to the stars.

  Susan wasn’t sure if she heard her own voice or André’s. Sudden
ly an intense pleasure slammed into her. The jolt was so strong, she couldn’t remain quiet. The feeling consumed her, like waves of rapture coming one after the other. Susan let them take her. She’d never felt like this before, never been on a plane this high or felt as if she was only complete when she was with André. Feeling totally mindless, she writhed beneath the heightened rhythmic thrusting of his taut body with a blind knowledge. They soared, with her hands moving over his powerful body as she moaned incoherently into his shoulder.

  His mouth covered hers again as they came to a final, shuddering climax. While they clung to each other, savoring the sweet moment as long as possible, she kissed any part of him she could reach. His arms tightened around her, gathering her closer to him. What they’d done, what they’d felt, was beautiful, the most beautiful experience she had ever known or imagined. She was overcome with the force of emotion that welled up inside her.

  André was kissing her again, pushing her tousled hair away from her face, understanding her feelings as she understood his. She’d never known how powerful a man and woman could be with each other. Yet she was unsure if it happened to all couples or just between herself and André.

  Finally, spent and exhausted, they lay in each other’s arms. He looked at her. Susan knew her face was open, devoid of makeup and shining. Her eyes were drowsy, but she felt beautiful, felt as if she was displaying the real Susan, the woman under the mask. With her eyes, she communicated silently to him.

  He gathered her closer to him and stroked her flushed face with his hand. Her body was moist with perspiration, and her hair had to be wild against the pillow she rested on, but she’d changed. In the last few minutes, she’d become a different woman, all because of the man who stared at her with dark, hooded eyes.

  Susan settled in André’s arms and fell into a restful and dreamless sleep. When she woke, the sun was peeking through the base of the distant buildings. André was gone. Susan was alone. She reached for the space where André had slept. Her hand brushed against a piece of paper.

  After raising herself up on her elbows, she pulled the sheet over her naked breasts and read the note.

  I couldn’t wake you. You looked so pretty sleeping. I had to go to the store. One more day out of the store, and I’m sure the cavalry would storm the citadel. See you tonight.

  André

  Susan smiled. Her internal furnace started to burn. She’d see him again. Hopping out of bed, with a bounce to her step and feeling that all was well with the world, she headed for the shower. She danced through the door, humming a song. Suddenly she stopped and gripped the doorjambs with her hands as if the building would fall down without her support.

  What was she thinking? After their night together, she knew she wanted to see André again, but what about her lie? What about the fact that he didn’t know who she really was? And what about him? He didn’t do relationships. How often had she heard that?

  Turning around, she saw the note he’d left her lying on the rumpled sheets. Should she try to storm that citadel?

  * * *

  Susan had to get out of her apartment. She mainly had to leave the bedroom, but André’s impression was in all of the rooms. She saw him looking at her photo. When she faced the windows, she remembered the two of them watching the sunset and the city lights blinking on as darkness fell.

  She needed to think, but thinking was the last thing she wanted to do. After taking her camera, she left the apartment and started walking. She wanted to talk to someone, but other than Minette, most of her friends worked at the House of Thorn.

  Jessica came to mind. Susan needed to talk to Jessica about leaving the furniture department. It would keep her from talking about André. But it was too early.

  Susan couldn’t go into the store, and Jessica rarely left the building for lunch. Her only option was to meet her after she got off for the day. Checking her watch, she noted that Jessica wouldn’t leave the store for another three hours. She pulled her camera out, walked toward the river, and spent time taking photos of the tour boats and New Jersey, on the other side. So many photos pictured New York from that side of the Hudson River.

  Jerome had taught her to read the light, and it was beautiful today. She wondered if her life was now going to rank as “before André” and “after André.” The sky seemed brighter and the colors more vivid. Did André have anything to do with her outlook, and was he going to command her attention every hour of the day?

  Apparently he was, since the hours seemed to go by at the speed of an ant. But finally it was time for her to try to find Jessica. Susan had been following her for three blocks, through the rush-hour crowd. Jessica commuted from New Jersey each day. She got on the train in New Brunswick, rode it to Penn Station and then walked to the House of Thorn.

  Catching up with her, Susan called her name just as Jessica reached the escalator leading down to the station’s main concourse.

  Jessica looked over her shoulder. A huge smile covered her face as she reversed direction and rushed toward Susan.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” she said. The two stepped out of the flow of traffic. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”

  “I figured you wanted to know why I left.”

  “I do,” she admitted.

  “Let me buy you a cup of coffee or something,” Susan suggested.

  The two walked across the street to the Hotel Pennsylvania. Once they sat down with their coffee, Jessica waited for Susan to speak.

  “I’m really not a salesperson,” she said.

  “You’re the best salesperson I’ve ever worked with,” Jessica contradicted. “Without you the department wouldn’t be doing as well as it has.”

  “I’m sure you can keep that going.”

  Jessica shifted in her chair, coming toward the edge and tucking her feet to the side. “What’s the real reason? Is it André?”

  Susan’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

  Jessica sat back. “I’ve worked at Thorn’s for a lot of years. I’ve seen women come and go. He’s usually not serious about any of them.”

  Susan wondered if he was serious about her. She hoped so, but she couldn’t be sure.

  “After that breakup with his fiancée, he...” She hesitated and spoke slowly. “He didn’t seem interested in another relationship. Until you.”

  “Me? What do you mean?”

  They hadn’t really done anything to cause talk, but the word that caught her off guard was fiancée. André had been engaged in the past. Why hadn’t the rumor mill sifted that tidbit of information her way?

  “The way you look at him when you don’t think anyone sees. And the way he looks at you, not to mention the two of you rearranging furniture after hours.”

  “You make it sound like we were sleeping on those beds.”

  Jessica leaned forward. “Didn’t you want to?” Her voice was conspiratorial.

  “Absolutely not,” Susan said, truthfully. The thought had never crossed her mind.

  “But you do like him?”

  Susan couldn’t lie. She nodded, not wanting to verbalize her answer in case her voice rose higher than its normal pitch.

  After a moment, she swallowed and said, “He’s one of the reasons I quit. I couldn’t stay there and let things get out of hand. They were heading in that direction. Also, I do want to do something other than sell furniture.”

  “How about design?” Jessica suggested.

  Susan shook her head. “Designing furniture? I don’t think so.”

  “Not furniture. I’m thinking store design. You have an eye for color and placement, and you understand how people’s minds work, what makes them stop and look—what makes them buy.”

  Susan mulled over the idea in her mind. She did like putting her newly acquired skill as a designer to work. Instead of working only in furniture, she could check out the other areas of
the store. With all of the holidays and special events, she could do it full-time.

  “And I could use my photographer’s mind to develop designs.” She spoke before she had thought it through.

  “Exactly,” Jessica said. “I’d put a word in for you with personnel.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  Jessica looked perplexed. “Why not?”

  “I really have no experience designing and I can’t work at the store.”

  Jessica’s face fell. “I’ve seen what you’ve done. André would probably rubber-stamp the decision, but he’s the reason you don’t want to be there, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. She wished she could share her secret with Jessica, but she knew it was better to keep things to herself.

  “Does he know how you feel?” Jessica asked.

  Their lovemaking came to mind. Susan saw herself glowing in the aftermath of their joining. She could almost feel André’s arms around her, the way they had been as the two had fallen asleep together. Even when she had woken to find him gone, she had been dancing on air.

  “I’m not sure,” she answered Jessica’s question.

  “Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

  She couldn’t. “It’s complicated.”

  “That’s what people always say, when if you just talk, you might find out it’s not complicated.”

  Susan smiled. Jessica gave sound advice.

  “It’s still a little early. I think I need to spend more time and see where this goes, if it goes anywhere. I’m not sure if André is interested in a relationship or if I am.”

  Jessica looked confused. “He looks it.”

  “You can’t tell just by looking.”

  * * *

  Thoughts had been running through André’s head all day. All of them involving Susan. He couldn’t wait to see her after work, although he couldn’t say he worked today. His body was in the House of Thorn’s New York store, but his mind was a few miles away, in Susan’s apartment. And now he was only a couple of blocks away.