Chrissy was on her feet, bending over, reaching down to her toes. She hung there in the air a long while, her backside way above her head. “No,” she said sincerely, “Marshmallows.”
“Ooh,” cooed Kevin, “Those little marshmallows that I can…. And nuts. Almonds, like….” The silver balls clanked in his hand until he jumped at the sound and let up the pressure a bit.
Chrissy stood serenely, her palms raised as if in prayer and she pressed them gently and then harder, flexing her Pecs repeatedly. She quickly interrupted him and said, “No, rich nuts, like Macadamias.”
Kevin smiled, his voice seductive yet coyly amused. “Yes, Macadamias, nibbled out of….”
Chrissy had climbed up onto the Stairmaster and was frenetically stepping up and down, up and down, up and down. Her pace was frenzied despite all the Yoga, and she looked flushed and agitated. Marching even more swiftly, she said, “And whipped cream, blasting out of the can.”
Kevin closed his eyes briefly, then said, “Have you ever seen my….”
Chrissy’s breath was raspy, her heart thundering. She touched her wrist and then with eyes wide with shock, dropped her arm as though she’d burned herself. Her eyes bulged—her pulse was racing—this wasn’t good, not good at all—her heart rate was the one thing she counted on to be ever steady. She jumped off the Stairmaster and began doing Yoga again, raising her arms high overhead, touching palms together and bringing them down straight in front of her body, touching her belly button, then gracefully separating her palms and fluttering her arms out to the sides to make a big circle back to the top of her head where her palms once again met. She focused on her breathing, attempting to normalize her heart rate.
“You have to stop doing this to me, Kevin. I’m serious. We can talk about…” she paused for a long moment, her eyes getting glassy, and then she said, “Fudge….” And she paused once more, coming into focus again and continued, “But you know Bill is my rock. He’s not a player like you. He’d never cheat on me. I’d go crazy if he did, I’d….”
Kevin laughed. He had her. It was just a matter of time. “Oh c’mon. Bill is no saint. He’s just never been improperly tempted….” Kevin laughed again, lowered his voice to its most seductive register, then said, “We didn’t even get to salty.”
Chrissy was down on her knees, raising her hands over head and leaning forward, her arms stretched outward as her body folded down over her knees and out against the floor. “Salty,” she repeated, tantalized by the thought.
Kevin started raking his little sand pit, making swirl after swirl in the sand with the tiny rake. “I could pack you in popcorn….Eat my way in.”
Chrissy sat flat on the floor, her legs open widely. Arms behind her head, she leaned first left then right, touching elbow to knee and up again. “No,” she said adamantly. “Chips.”
At last. They were together at last. Angie sat on the examining table, attempting to make her paper gown seem as seductive as possible. Ignoring Nurse Leona, who stood silently in the corner of the room like one of those eunuchs who guarded the harem, Angie shrugged her shoulder subtly, but gazing into Dr. Flicker’s eyes as she did it, allowing the gown to slip down a bit so he could have an eyeful of the sexy bra she’d just bought.
Glancing at his nurse, Kevin casually lifted the gown back up onto her shoulder and patted her paternally on the back. “Okay, you can dress now and meet me in my office,” he said.
Angie loved the tête-à-têtes they had weekly. She sat in the chair facing him, perched on the edge so she could lean as much toward him as possible. He was so magnetic, how could she avoid it. She’d deliberately left the two top buttons on her sweater undone and leaning forward just made her cleavage pop even more.
She reached for the little cue stick off the tiny pool table on top of his desk and stroked it seductively with her finger, the bright polish on her nails twinkling in the light. This was going so well. It would happen soon, she just knew it—her life was about to begin.
Dr. Flicker looked up from her chart and smiled at Angie, causing her to beam at him in return. “You’ve done just great. Not a single backslide, even another pound gone since last week. I wish all my patients were just like you.”
Angie leaned forward even more, although it began to feel a little precarious on the edge of the chair. She said, “I just decided to trust my instincts. Never taste anything. Just cook.”
Dr. Flicker looked up and seemed quite perplexed. “Aren’t you a caterer? Can you really do that? Must be hard.”
Angie flirtatiously lowered her chin and raised her eyes, gazing coyly at Kevin. “I like hard things,” she said, smiling. “Come back with me to my restaurant. I’ll make you a fabulous lunch.” She gazed into his eyes, attempting to ignite a fire in him to match what she was feeling. “Your tongue will thank you.”
“Your blouse is unbuttoned,” he said with what she was certain was veiled passion.
Angie leaned in even further. Closer and closer she wanted to get but the giant desk was in the way. Her breast was brushing against those dangling balls, causing them to clank. But look—he was leaning in too. It was working! Angie rose, moving swiftly toward Kevin, who reached for her.
And then another doctor leaned in the room and Angie had to snap back to attention and so did Kevin. What horrid luck.
“I’m taking your wife to lunch,” Bill said.
“Glad somebody’s taking her,” said Kevin in a way that made Angie certain he would soon be bound for the divorce courts. But why had Dr. Flicker resumed sitting behind the giant desk? It was like a barricade between them.
When the other doctor had gone, Angie tried to recapture the moment. She said softly, “Come to my deli for lunch.”
As Kevin rose and walked around the desk, Angie’s heart nearly stopped beating. He reached for her and took her hand, rather gently she thought—how sweet. But then he said, “What sort of doctor would I be….”
Oh no! Everything was devolving, swirling into a curdling mass of goo. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t let it. She had to regain the moment, recapture his ardor, which Angie knew simmered there below the surface. Maybe he just didn’t realize how strong it was. “I know you feel it, Dr. Flicker,” she said, pausing, then, more intimately, “Kevin.”
He smiled at her in a kindly way which she took as a horrible sign. “You’re a beautiful girl,” he said, “What man wouldn’t want you? Who could blame me? If not for this, I’d grab you and never let go.”
Kevin had extended his naked left hand toward Angie, who regarded it and looked up at him quizzically. Determinedly he pointed toward his ringless ring finger. “This,” he said adamantly.
Lowering her voice a bit, Angie purred, “I could be your mid-life crisis.”
Smiling deeply at Angie, Kevin rose to his feet. Angie was groping inside her purse and finally extracted a business card. Reaching forward seductively while trying to avoid setting those dangling balls aclatter, Angie grabbed a pen from his desk and scribbled on the back of the card. “Work number on front, home on back. Any time Kevin, day or night. I mean it.”
Swaggering noticeably, Kevin walked Angie out the door of his office. What a great day. Maybe he could take a bite out of this little cupcake one day. Why not? She was begging for it and how could he be so cruel as to deny her?
- TWO -
Bill enjoyed the smooth ride his Mercedes provided and he thought of little on his way to meet Laura at a popular lunch place where he could have a good meal with no recriminations. Eating at home had become unpleasant, something else he should deal with but didn’t have the heart to confront.
Most of the major east-west boulevards now were littered with a collection of electronic billboards like giant televisions, and there to his left was a rather spectacular anti-smoking billboard that he knew had come from Laura and her organization. It depicted a cemetery, and the image was so pristine, it was almost three-D. A casket sat open with a young corpse inside, and floating over the body was
a human-sized lit cigarette, producing very realistic smoke. The caption said Smoke Now, Die Later, but the word Later was crossed out and above it was the word Sooner. Bill thought the campaign was very impressive. He also thought it wouldn’t work because people who wanted to smoke didn’t even respond to medical logic let alone billboards. Smokers had the strongest system of disbelief of most of the addicts he’d confronted. It was a shame.
Thinking with some degree of guilt about how little time recently he’d had to devote to the anti-smoking coalition, he almost drove right by Spago, where he was meeting Laura. Bill came to a quick stop and a valet whisked the car away while he entered Wolfgang Puck’s celebrated eatery.
He stopped briefly at the desk and spoke to a host who greeted him warmly, seemed to remember and recognize him although he hadn’t dined there in way too long, and courteously led him to Laura, who was already seated at one of their charming patio tables. She waved as she saw him, and she seemed to be smiling happily, so perhaps he’d been too sensitive assuming she’d been angry at him.
Laura was still radiant, a healthy looking blonde who didn’t seem ever to have food issues. She had never been overweight, but was the sort of solid, relatively athletic person who could help you lift a table if necessary. How JoEllen would laugh at that description. It was Laura who had introduced them, way back in college, and they’d all remained best friends ever after. He noted she still carried everywhere that giant bag, more briefcase than purse, and he assumed her habit of handing out anti-smoking paraphernalia hadn’t changed. It took a lot of nerve to do that, and Bill gave her credit for moxxy.
He touched her on the shoulder, leaned down to kiss her cheek and sat beside her in the garden. This was a lovely spot. Perhaps they could hold the party here. “Just saw one of your billboards. Smoke now, die sooner. Really great.”
“We try to get more and more in your face with the ads. I just wish the kids would take them more seriously. They think they’re immortal. I want to do a big one featuring that kid who took up chewing tobacco in high school and was dead within a year. Show close ups of what the surgery did to him, not that it did any good.”
“That was a huge tragedy, but a very unusual case,” Bill said.
“I don’t think it was so unusual, just a bit fast. Kids need to believe it can happen to them.”
Bill nodded, agreeing with everything she was saying. “Sorry I haven’t had more time to work with you and the board on it. You know I want to but…”
“Chrissy,” Laura said disdainfully.
Bill sighed and spoke a bit haltingly but with sincerity, “I’d hoped you’d forgiven me. It was almost a year after JoEllen died before we began dating, and she would have understood.”
Laura sounded angry, but Bill couldn’t see why she was still so infuriated. “Men need company, we all know that. I just couldn’t see how you could replace Jo with a-a-I’m sorry, but a bimbo.”
Bill nodded to the busboy who’d brought them water and a basket of beautiful breads. After he was out of earshot, Bill said, “I don’t think you’re being fair to her. You don’t even really know her.” Then he sighed with painful depth and finally continued, “I felt like hiding under the covers every day, you know that. You know what she meant to me, to us all. Finally I said, no, okay, I’m gonna live, not hide.”
Laura’s face softened but before she could respond a waiter had arrived to introduce himself and take their order. To his request if they wanted something from the bar, Laura replied, “Oh I think this diet soda’s plenty.”
Bill nodded, “Yes it’s lunch, let’s just eat.”
“Shall I give you another minute?” asked the waiter congenially.
Bill held up one finger as they both glanced hastily at their menus. “Want to share salmon blini or a shrimp pizza to start?” Bill asked Laura, who nodded, causing him to order both.
“Maybe I’ll try that lobster cobb salad,” said Laura.
“Fantastic,” said Bill, “I was tempted to have the lobster club but think I’ll do the grilled rib eye—comes with potatoes. Not sure I remember what one is any more. Gotta get the calories and the carbs out. Not to mention fried.”
Laura laughed and patted Bill’s hand. “Poor starving doctor boy,” she cooed.
As the waiter departed, Laura left her hand on Bill’s for an extra second. “It’s okay,” she said, I’m not expecting you to become a monk. So—what about this party?”
“I just wanted to do something nice for Chrissy’s birthday. She seems very insecure lately, as though she’s going through something and the current diet has her way on edge, but I’m trying to talk her through that, so I thought maybe if I threw her a party, made her feel special, she’d calm down a little, return to being that sweet girl who charmed the kids so much at the mall when we met her.”
“Leave it to you to meet a girl who gives you a free piece of Godiva and you move her into your house.”
Bill laughed. “Never underestimate the power of chocolate on the human heart.”
“You’re right. I never trust people who’re allergic to chocolate. So were you going to have the party at home or out somewhere?”
“I don’t know. I never had to plan a party before. Maybe some place simple, sweet, elegant—like this patio—it’s really pretty here, isn’t it?”
“All right,” said Laura, “I’ll go home, think about it, make a few calls, come up with a list of potential places, some ideas for the menu, and we can go look at them one day next week? Maybe you could take a couple hours off toward the end of the day?”
Bill nodded. “Sounds great.” He moaned softly then and said, “Oh my God, taste these blini. Why don’t I come here every day? Maybe I will from now on.”
“Pizza’s great too,” said Laura, “Wolfie never misses.”
After eating their lunch and talking about old times, Bill and Laura strolled a bit, still in a relatively convivial mood and moving toward a jewelry store where Bill could ask Laura’s advice about some sort of present for Chrissy. They approached a gym called Zero Tolerance, but before they could continue, Laura spotted a young couple on the sidewalk smoking. She signaled wait to Bill, dug into her bag and smoothly removed the flyers she intended to pass along, hoping to convert them on the spot.
Laura’s voice was impassioned but gentle, but the urgency with which she spoke caused the couple to react to her with some level of discomfort, probably unrelated to the subject of her tirade. “The choices you make now are so important, so long lasting,” she said maturely but kindly. “You can’t even imagine how you’ll feel twenty years from now about something you’re doing today. Maybe you won’t want it at all, but by then you’ll be stuck with it. It’ll be a habit, a bad habit, but one you might not have the courage to break.”
Bill listened silently as Laura continued her harangue and he wondered was she talking completely about smoking or was something more personal under the surface working its way up.
“Think about it,” she implored, “Now is the time to break those nasty habits, not to get sucked in too deeply into something you’ll regret later on. Please! Give it some thought. Here, take this. Take two. It’s not too late to change now. You can do it. You really can.”
Silently the young couple each accepted the flyers and nodded to Laura wordlessly then turned to walk off in the other direction. Bill put a kindly hand on Laura’s arm and together they walked forward. He glanced back, noting that the kids had tossed the flyers in the nearest trash can. Shaking his head, he refocused on what Laura was now saying.
“You know,” she said wistfully, “Last night I dreamed George came back. I didn’t even tell Kevin about it. You know how he felt. Such a competition.”
Bill nodded. Kevin was quite insane on the subject of George.
“You remember it all, right?” asked Laura, murmuring softly, “George and me, walking along, and out of nowhere that jerk, and he swerved and I pulled on George, but he didn’t move fast enough.” Suddenly sh
e began to weep, very intensely Bill thought, considering how long it had been, and he faced her, his hand on her arm, stroking it softly.
“He was reaching for a cigarette, did you know that?” she asked, “That’s why he didn’t see us.”
Her tears grew stronger and Bill just wrapped his arms around her, hoping it would help and she would feel a little better. He patted her kindly on the back.
“I didn’t know that last part, no,” he said.
Despite having pretty much every workout gadget any girl could ever want right there at home in the den, Chrissy often liked to vary her days and that usually meant a trip to her favorite spot, a super high tech gym called Zero Tolerance. It gave her energy to work out alongside other motivated people and if she wanted to talk, there was always someone to chat up on the treadmills. At this moment, she’d finished a workout, had showered, and was carrying her gym bag as she walked toward the parking garage nearby. Just as she was about to cross the street, she noticed something shocking. There in the middle of the sidewalk was her Bill, embracing Kevin’s Laura—right out in public.
She gasped audibly and then with much astonishment, clapped her hand over her mouth, as though her gasps could cause her to be noticed when she wasn’t the one committing a flagrant act of infidelity, right there on the sidewalk. She stood frozen for a while, for as long as their nauseating embrace continued, but then as they began walking, so did she.
Like a character in a movie trying to outsmart a sniper, she serpentined along, darting into doorways, sidling around corners, expecting at any moment that Bill would turn around and spot her. Quick thinking—that was what she needed. Reaching into her gym bag, she extracted her hoodie and tied it around her head with the arms linked under her chin. That would surely provide some cover. Unconcerned that she looked a bit like someone from the old country about to exit Ellis Island, Chrissy was determined to follow them.
Hungry for Love Page 3
