"Motherfucker! I just got these kicks last week." Tony yelled before yanking on Jamison's arm. "You are one stupid fuck," he yelled in Jamison's ear.
Jake held back his grin and glanced to Max who had turned his head away.
"I'll take your place, Max, and wait for the cab. Think Dale could use some backup in the Dressing Room, yeah?"
Jake moved to grab Jamison's arm and Tony was now wiping his shoes on the backs of his trousers while muttering obscenities.
"You thin' you're shome kind o' shtud, don' cha' Mr. Bibsh-Bigshot?"
Jake turned his head away to avoid the fumes and spit flying from the bank president's mouth. He saw the lights of a car coming round the back of the building. He hoped to Christ it was the fuckin' cab.
It was.
He let go of Jamison's arm and left Tony to help him into the cab.
"Yo, Rick," he greeted the cabbie as he reached in his pocket for his money clip and peeled off a fifty. "Take him home, yeah?"
"Sure thing, Jake. Know the way as this ain't my first time cartin' his drunk ass home."
Jake grinned and tapped the roof of the cab in farewell as he turned to make his way back into the club.
What a fuckin' night.
*.*.*.*.*
"How'd it go with your professor?" Marianne was stretched on the mound of blue-hued, comfy pillows on one side of the coffee table with me draped across the comfy cushions of her loveseat on the other. We had just completed one heck of a meal of lasagna and a salad tossed with my home-made lime cilantro vinaigrette and ending with cannolli and hazelnut flavored decaf for dessert.
"Weird," I replied on a sigh. "I was prepared to march in there and argue my case when he asked me if I'd be willing to give an extra speech each class period to bring up my grade." I remembered feeling awkward even approaching Prof Davis since he was only a few years older than me to ask for ways, suggestions or ideas to bring my grade up. But all my grand plans of begging and pleading fell by the wayside with his more than generous, though pre-emptive, offer.
"Cool," Marianne said softly. "Once in a while, us good guys get a break."
"Uh, yeah," I replied not letting myself think about being on the side of 'the good guys' whoever they might be. Remembering her warning regarding Mr. Jamison, I wondered idly if Marianne's world was in black and white instead of the multitude of gray shades I seemed to have in my own.
"Did you bring your speeches?" Marianne asked as she slowly rolled to her feet and began clearing our dessert dishes and coffee cups.
"I left them on my bar. I'll just run and get them," I said, knowing that I'd be back in under a minute. I closed Marianne's door and just as I was turning the key in the lock to my apartment, I heard Layne from Four clumping down the stairs from her second floor apartment.
"Hey, Cay!" Layne was nothing if not enthusiastic. As a jewelry designer, she was the 'artsy' one of us at Casa de Lela as I called our collective. Though officially named 'Arminster Arms' after Grandma Lela's maiden name, it seemed too stuffy to describe the cast of characters that currently resided there. Layne was tall, with long sleek black hair that she always wore half up in complicated twists held in place by some of the works of art that she crafted "in her spare time".
"Got somethin' for ya," she declared as she raced back into her apartment then appeared again at the top of the stairs. "Delivered yesterday."
My eyes swiveled and caught on the large box tucked to her side facing away from the railing as she lightly skipped down, the bottom portion of her black hair bouncing around her shoulders.
"I didn't order anything," I stated as she reached me at my door. Marianne popped her head out from across the hall at the goings on.
"Package without ordering?" she asked with a smile. "A mystery! Cool!"
I felt their eyes on me, one blue and one such a deep brown as to be black. Swallowing loudly I tenderly grabbed the package that Layne was shoving at me.
"The return label says Meer's" Layne announced, all of us familiar with the high end department store that was the king of all things material in our neck of the woods. A place that I had visited but never purchased anything from since they were priced far, far out of my reach. So far out of my reach, Meer's could've been in another galaxy.
"Aren't you gonna open it?" Marianne asked. Layne nodded giving her silent approval.
"But I didn't order anything from Meer's," I was maintaining my innocence in what was sure to be a mistake.
"Aw c'mon," Layne encouraged. "Just a quick peek. I've been so curious since I signed for it. Aren't you even wondering what's in there?"
It was true, I did want to see what was inside. Turning back towards my door, I unlocked my apartment and the three of us traipsed in. With only the low wattage over-the-stove light to guide me, I quickly turned on the standing lamp on the other side of the bar. The girls took their places on the barstools as I bustled to locate my utility knife in the bowels of my junk drawer in my tiny kitchenette. I'm a firm believer that every kitchen needs a junk drawer even if there are only three drawers in the tiny, miniscule room.
"Geez, Louise, Caitlin. You don't even have a dishwasher," Marianne declared as her eyes swept my little cooking area. It's true, mine was the least updated apartment in the building but Grandma hadn't wanted any of the 'new-fangled' appliances or accoutrements that the other units had. Although my tiny shower did have railings on two of its three walls which the other apartments didn't have. All the better to hang my shower stuff without having to buy one of those over-the-showerhead thingies, I told myself.
Finding the utility knife, I carefully followed the tape of the carton and pulled the flaps back carefully. Bubble wrap was the topmost layer that only covered yet another box, but this second box was elegantly encased in light green wrapping paper gaily printed with small springs of lavender. As I pulled it out and away from the carton, I saw it was twined in gorgeous olive green ribbon tied in a fluffy bow.
"There's a card!" Layne whispered and I realized that both she and Marianne were almost as excited as I was about my box, my present, if it's beautiful paper and shiny bow were any indication.
I hadn't received a present since …well, you know.
Catching the card before it fell to the floor, I carefully set the package down, scooting the outer package to the side of my only kitchen countertop. I ran my finger beneath the flap of the envelope and slowly slid the heavy-weight, gold edged card out.
'Even the heat of a full-body blush can't be maintained in the cold of winter. Enjoy.' the card read. It was simply signed "JS".
Holy shit! It was from Jake.
While I had only heard his full name the once from Mr. Jamison's liver-like lips, I also knew that Jake was the only one that had ever seen anything close to resembling a 'full-body blush' on me. My hands were shaking and my ears ringing as I reached to rip into the wrapping paper.
"What'd it say?" Layne asked Marianne as she reached for the card. I was barely even aware of their presence as my hands fumbled to unleash the contents of my gift. My present from Jake, my mind corrected as it struggled to be heard over my loud heartbeats.
I pushed the wrapping paper to the floor and tipped open the box as my fingers tore through the tissue paper that was hiding whatever he had gotten me.
"Guess she's not gonna return it, huh?" Marianne was smiling ruefully as she muttered under her breath and bumped against Layne in emphasis. My hands felt the soft but heavy wool as I dragged the garment out and held it against me.
"It's a coat!" Layne said with a hand clap.
She was right. It was a coat, but such a coat I'd never seen.
A deep blue-green with a hint of brown in its pile, it was a dream. Dress length, double-breasted, it was a vision of princess seams and tortoise shell buttons. My hands stroked its quality fabric as my eyes caressed the brown leather trim that edged it, setting off the perfection of its lines. I dared to slip it on, sliding my arm into a sleeve only to see that the coat was lined i
n a warm golden-brown soft fabric, the exact color of Jake's eyes. I hurried now, wanting to feel the warmth of Jake's eyes on me again even if it was only through a piece of clothing.
It fit like it was tailored just for me.
"Holy shit, girl," Marianne exclaimed. "Have you a secret admirer we don't know about?" Like Marianne, no one had ever seen men leaving my apartment mainly because I never had men in my apartment. Hadn't she been there when the best of the best had escorted me home?
"I don't get it," Layne said as she re-read the card. She turned it over like the blank back would offer a clue to what the words meant.
I buttoned every button and tied the self-fabric belt around my waist as I carefully stepped through the devastation of my unwrapping frenzy that now littered the floor of the kitchenette. My apartment only had the small mirror above my bathroom sink so I pushed back the drapes and the sheers over my large arched front window in order to see myself wrapped in the beauty of Jake's gift.
It was absolutely stunning, but even better, made me look beautiful. I could see it's clean uncluttered lines blurring the edges of my awkwardness and defining me in sophistication, or at least, what I thought sophistication must look like. While at heart I knew I was one of the many known as 'starving students', what I saw echoed in my make-shift mirror was an up-coming collegiate that had her goals clearly set and was well on her way to meeting them. I twirled, watching my reflected self captured in the shiny surface of the dark windows as the skirt of the coat lifted and then settle around me. There was even a detachable hood I discovered as my fingers flipped the collar up before coming to a stop before my audience.
Then I put my hands in my pockets. They were filled with candy.
Oh my. Candy. Like from my strip in front of Jake's desk. The sexy song he had chosen. Candy Shop.
If I had any doubt at all who my coat was from, the candy in the pockets gave it all away.
I could feel myself breaking into a huge smile. It was something that I hadn't felt myself doing in a long, long time.
"Oh, honey, you look so beautiful," Marianne breathed.
"You're a knock out, Cay," Layne agreed.
Turning back to gaze at my reflection and, for once in my life, I couldn't disagree before I reluctantly reached and closed the curtains.
The girls helped me gather up the paper and boxes, cleaning up after my unwrapping whirl.
Layne went back up to her apartment in Four.
Marianne and I went back to her apartment in Two so we could work on my speeches.
And I kept my new coat on the entire time.
*.*.*.*.*
"Jake, line three" the intercom buzzed as he once again tried to make sense of the latest balance sheet for the chain of laundry mats Dale and Jake were thinking of buying. But, try as he might, his mind wasn't filled with the dollars and cents of the company they were thinking of buying.
It was filled with visions of Caitlin's flawless skin as the aroma of her seemed to linger in the air of his office.
Would he ever be able to sit here again without imagining her naked breasts and smelling her sweet, earthy scent?
Jake rubbed his tired eyes as he lifted the receiver and stabbed the button for line three.
"Stanton," he answered realizing his voice was more like a growl than usual at the interruption.
"Jake?" the soft voice whispered into his ear.
He shot straight up in his chair, which was just two-heartbeats ahead of his cock doing the same, as he instantly recognized Caitlin's voice.
"It's Caitlin. Caitlin Tomas?" her soft, sweet voice paused. "I got the gift, the coat," she continued. "It's beautiful."
"Glad you like it, Darlin'", he rumbled imagining her wearing what he had picked out.
It had been quite a foray for him in the outerwear section of the department store. He realized his height and physique somewhat made him stand out in a crowd, but he hadn't been looking for the kind of attention that he had gotten when he was there. After ascertaining that the petite, pudgy woman with the curiously orange-tinted hair was a clerk, he blatantly ignored all the other females that were gathered around him offering suggestions after he had mumbled, "women's coats?".
"How'd you know my size much less that I needed one?" Caitlin asked in her soft, breathy voice.
Was it possible to come just listening to her talk?
Obviously it was, since the phone-sex trade was an extremely lucrative business and something that he and Dale had considered getting into but had discarded. The strip club, they had mutually decided, was the only venue on that seamier sidewalk of sex that they were willing to engage in.
But Jake never thought that he would be susceptible to getting his rocks off by just talking on the phone, although the sound of Caitlin's voice had him definitely considering it. He pressed the heel of his hand down his hard length in an effort to ease the immediate throbbing her voice had caused.
Realizing he hadn't answered yet, Jake took an audible breath.
"I felt how thin yours was when I saw you outside of State. I guessed at the size." Although, truthfully Sharon-the-sales-clerk was the one who picked the size based on Jake's detailed description. He almost chuckled aloud remembering how Sharon's eyes rounded and widened at how very thoroughly Jake had described Caitlin's figure.
"I can't remember when I've had a better present," her plush voice was driving him crazy and he could feel his cock again throb in response at the sound.
"Like the card said, Caitlin. Enjoy."
"Thank you, Jake, for the coat and the candy. It really means a lot." he heard on a sigh.
"Listen, Darlin', you up for grabbing a bite tomorrow? Don't know what your schedule's like," he lied since he had her class schedule almost memorized as well as her work agenda. Tomorrow, Monday was Biology and Speech separated by the nursing home and ending with the car wash.
"Uhm, tomorrow night might be okay," she said hesitantly. "Say around six?"
Monday's at the club was usually a wash since it was the slowest night of the week. Six was a bit early for him but knowing she was typically either on the go or studying from early hours until close to midnight, six p.m. was doable. Jake pulled out her file because he was a little confused since Hector Suarez had reported to Rich that they closed the carwash nightly at eight p.m. on the dot. Maybe she had re-arranged her schedule since the report had been pulled.
"Works for me. Dress casual."
"See you, then," Caitlin confirmed.
"Later, Babe" Jake replied his tone clearly indicating his reluctance in letting her off the phone even though he knew he had to do so.
But, his heart was still racing as he disconnected the call.
"Down, boy," he muttered as if the phrase from his youth would work any better on his almost thirty year old cock as it did then.
Jake again picked up the indecipherable financial sheets of the Suds 'N' Duds and tried to make sense of them.
Chapter Six
"I recommend the chicken enchiladas," Jake told me as we read over menus at Enrique's Taste of Mexico restaurant and cantina just a half-block off the main drag in our small town.
I slid my eyes up the well-worn, plastic coated sheet to meet his with a soft smile. "Sounds good to me," I agreed as I looked around the restaurant.
We had been led to a booth in the middle of his choice of eatery that was decorated on every wall, and even the ceiling, with different and colorfully crafted piñatas. Enrique's was a comfortable and well-known place in our area offering great food, spectacular drinks and engaging wait staff.
I had been surprised when Jake had slid in next to me on the bench seat, tossing our jackets and my purse onto the seat on the other side of the table.
"So, Jake," I began after the waitress had soundlessly and, with a smile, delivered our chips and salsa with drinks after taking our food orders. "You kind of know a lot about me."
I smiled wryly and turned my body towards him. Boy, did he ever. "Care to reciproc
ate?" I snagged the drink straw in my lips that was stuck upright in my thick virgin margarita to cover my embarrassment at my bold question though I forced my eyes to stay glued on him.
"Want me to drop trou', Darlin', to even up the score? Or should we just get Mahmood to shake his dick at me again?" Jake asked with a grin, eyes dropping to my lips that were gripping the straw. He snaked his arm over the top of the booth behind me as he kept his eyes to mine.
Crap.
I could feel the blush start rising again even though I had swore, swore I would act the cool adult on our date. And I had, I judged myself, been doing okay until the 'drop trou' remark, never mind the Mahmood reference.
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