Genevieve couldn’t say a word; she was frozen and waiting for this man to speak and reveal his intent. She knew screaming would do her no good; the music was far too loud for anyone to hear her over the beat or over the loud conversation and cackling of the others in the room. This was the perfect place to be trapped; her assailant knew it.
“Hey, Senorita,” The man slurred.
As he slurred his words, Genevieve smelled the whiskey on his breath. He had to have had no less than an entire bottle of Jack Daniels. It was putrid. Genevieve was instantly nauseous. She heaved and tried to hold it in. Throwing up wouldn’t help her now. The man still held onto her wrist, gripping it like a vice.
“Please… Let go of me,” Genevieve said. She tried to make her voice sounded strong as possible to hide her fear. She wasn’t sure if she was doing a good job of it. The man was unfazed.
He ignored her plea. He was starting to cut off the blood flowing to her fingers. The prickly tingling in Genevieve’s fingertips added to the unpleasantness.
“Pretty lady… You’re so sexy…Whaddya say… Want to go out back and fuck?” He said.
The man grinned afterwards as if he had made an appealing proposition that Genevieve would gladly accept. Genevieve tried to step back, but the bar was in her way. She was trapped, unable to move, escape or to get anyone’s attention. She didn’t even know if this guy had a weapon. The man was still gripping her arm tightly too. Her hand already lost all feeling.
Genevieve tried again to use her most powerful voice when she replied, “I don’t think that sounds like a good idea.” She hoped that then when the man saw her disinterest he would leave her alone. All she wanted was to get the hell out of this bar. Genevieve also didn’t want to instigate further so she tried to keep her language neutral but strong.
Of course, this asshole didn’t take the hint. So she tried to pull her hand away again but his grip on her wrist grew even stronger. Her mind was racing. Sometimes in situations like that, the right answer and the right course of action seems obvious to everyone else. But actually thrust into a tricky situation, your ability to think gets turned off. In panic mode your rational self is left behind. All that is left is instinct, and if your instinct fails you, then you have nothing.
But this man didn’t need to be instigated to act aggressively. He was a man on a mission and he didn’t care about Genevieve’s protest. He had hunted her down and he knew he had her within his reach. The man moved closer to her and groped her ass. He squeezed it tightly, massaging her thick flesh. He pulled her close to him as if he were about to kiss her. The smell of whiskey on his breath was all Genevieve could take in. He was too close for her to even get a whiff of clean air. Genevieve was beyond disgusted. This time she had no choice but to scream. She hoped someone would hear her even if it was likely that they wouldn’t.
“Leave me alone!” Genevieve screamed.
Again no one heard her, but at least, someone saw what was happening. Genevieve was surprised to see Sam walking towards her with a determined look on his face. He hadn’t heard her, but he was looking for another dance partner when he saw her standing over there looking visibly uncomfortable. He snapped into action.
Sam tapped the drunk man on the shoulder and said, “Hey are you bothering this nice young woman?”
He puffed out his chest in Genevieve’s defense. He needed to let this assailant know he wasn’t to be messed with.
“She’s mine asshole… Back off!” The man slurred.
That was a big mistake. While Genevieve might not have had the strength to take this man, Sam most certainly did. He pulled the guy off of Genevieve and landed a right hook square in his face. The man hit the ground. A few people in the bar screamed. When a fight broke out, no one knew who had thrown the first punch and everyone’s immediate instinct was to panic. There wouldn’t be much time before a bouncer would arrive and would likely cart Sam off if he was lucky enough to not have the police called.
The drunken man sat on the ground clutching his bloody nose. He was crying out as people started to crowd around him. While most people fled the bar, some were drawn to the scene like moths to a flame. These were the types of people who just thrived on drama. Cameras flashed and a few cellphones were raised above the entire scene as some people tried to record a video of what was happening. These days, hope of having a video go viral was high. The right hook had its intended effect; it also had the side effect of drawing way too much attention to what had happened. Sam knew he had to get out of there fast. The last thing he wanted was to end up in trouble and leave this beautiful woman vulnerable to being bothered again.
Sam realized that a bouncer was going to show up pretty soon if he didn’t leave. Sam figured Genevieve wanted to get out too. She still had a shaken expression on her face. Sam grabbed Genevieve’s arm and led her through the crowd to the back of the bar. They exited into an alleyway escaping any more trouble. Sam shook his fist out once they got there. Punching a guy in the face really hurt.
“Are you okay?” Genevieve asked.
“I’m the one who should be asking you that…” Sam grumbled. He was right. Genevieve was quite shaken from being groped right there in public. She couldn’t believe that man had the gall to assault her in a room full of people. He was clearly practiced at doing such things. He knew the bar would be too loud and too crowded for anyone to notice. Why had he chosen Genevieve as the victim? She just didn’t feel safe in that place…
“I’m all right… Just a bit shaken up,” Genevieve answered.
Sam looked at her and noticed that she seemed a bit chilly.
“Well do you want to get out of here? We can go grab a coffee or something… Warm you up, get you calmed down and all of that,” Sam offered.
Genevieve wasn’t quite sure she was ready to accept his offer. It was nice of him, but more than anything she wanted to go home. She felt that turning him down though, after all he had just beat up a guy for her.
“A little coffee sounds nice… I know a place that’s closer to my apartment if you don’t mind driving there,” Genevieve answered. She was starting to feel the evening chill and perhaps a little coffee wouldn’t be so bad. She was wound up from the events of the night. Maybe she had misjudged Sam as being a pompous asshole a bit too early. He was certainly kind enough to stop another man from assaulting her and he didn’t seem to have any nefarious intent in asking her out for coffee.
Sam led her to his car in the parking lot of the bar. Genevieve couldn’t hide her surprise. Sam drove the nicest car out of anyone she’d ever met. Most of her friends drove cars like the 2003 Nissan Almera or even older cars. Sam was driving a brand spanking new Dodge Charger. The car was sleek, all white and looked like a rapper’s Bentley. When Sam opened the door for Genevieve, she was met with the fresh “new car smell” and stunning leather upholstery. When she sat down and Sam got in the driver’s side, he turned on her seat warmers.
Genevieve didn’t even know cars had that feature. (But she didn’t know very much about cars except some weren’t very fancy and this one was stunning in comparison.) Genevieve directed Sam to the coffee shop close to her apartment, but besides her directions, they didn’t speak much at all. There was nothing to say… At least that’s what Genevieve thought. Although this man was treating her nicely, she still worried that they didn’t have very much in common. What could a black Southern girl have in common with a white man from the north?
When they pulled up at the coffee shop, Sam got out first and then opened the door for Genevieve. He linked arms with her as they walked inside and he ordered them two cups of black coffee. That was exactly how Genevieve liked her coffee, and she wondered how Sam had intuited that. When the barista finally gave them their piping hot mugs of French Roast, Sam led her to a booth at the far end of the café.
He sat down next to Genevieve in the booth. Strange… But it felt oddly comforting to have him so close. After what she had been through, Genevieve enjoyed that feeling of pro
tection and safety. Over their coffee, they got to talking. Sam didn’t reveal very much about himself, but Genevieve didn’t care. For once, someone was actually taking an interest in her and she began to tell him about her life. It has been a long time since anyone had expressed interest in Genevieve. Sure, she had Greta, but Greta was far more interested in partying using Genevieve as a token black friend accessory than having an actual relationship with her.
Genevieve found herself opening up to Sam even more than she expected. She told him about her move to the city. She told him about her parents and what it was like for her growing up culturally different from everyone around her. After all, her name was Genevieve Mauricette. People made fun of her name, the way her parents spoke and pretty much everything about her. Genevieve talked about her college experience at length too. All the while, Sam listened intently asking her probing questions. For some reason, Genevieve felt comfortable baring her soul out. It as if she had finally met someone actually understood her. Most people just raise their eyebrows and Genevieve’s various difficulties in life, but Sam actually understood.
While he didn’t reveal much about himself, Genevieve soon gleaned that Sam had grown up having a difficult life himself. He was born and raised in the rough-and-tumble streets of Philadelphia. His parents rarely had any money. His father was an addict and his mother was mentally ill. Sam understood what it was like to be on the outside. He had spent most of his childhood ostracized as well. For what, Genevieve still had no idea, but it was nice to know that someone at least knew what it was like. She was surprised by how much they had in common.
By the time their coffee was finished in the evening was winding down, Genevieve realized she had more questions than answers about Sam. What did he do for a living? Why had he moved here? Why was his “hangout spot” filled with people of a different ethnicity? Why was he such a good dancer? Why did he jump to her defense so quickly?
The evening was almost over and asking one of those questions would have opened a can of worms that Genevieve wasn’t sure she was ready to open. Plus, she was tired and all she wanted was to drop down in her bed and forget the entire night had ever happened. Meeting Sam was nice, but it didn’t make up for the loneliness and fear she’d felt in the bar after Greta had abandoned her. Shit. Greta! Genevieve had forgotten to tell Greta she had left the bar. She wasn’t even sure Greta cared. Sam gestured for them to leave, but Genevieve took pause to at least text her friend that she was going home with someone else.
Afterwards, she got into Sam’s car gave him the directions to her building. He seemed to know the city like the back of his hand and it didn’t take long to find the apartment building. Sam looked over at Genevieve before she got out of the car. Her cheeks were so soft and round, her big fluffy hair was bushy and tangled due to the humidity and drama of the night. Even in her disheveled state, Sam found her stunning. He was too nervous to make a move. She had been through enough with various assholes throughout the night and he didn’t want to be another one.
Genevieve didn’t know what to make of the way he was looking at her. She couldn't tell if he was expressing interest in her, or merely looking at her with concern as a friend. Could he really count as a friend? He was just some guy who met her at the bar who happened to be a big help. She didn’t know if she wanted things to go any further.
They got out of the car together as Sam walked Genevieve to her front door. She wondered what it would be like if she were brave enough to kiss him.
Chapter 4
As they stood in front of Genevieve’s door, time stopped for just a moment. The night was ending far too soon; neither Sam nor Genevieve was confident that they were ready for it to all be over. All of a sudden, Genevieve had the urge to give Sam a little something extra for his help. No, not sex… But a kiss at least. The urge surprised Genevieve. She had nothing in common with this guy. Sure, he was attractive but they barely knew each other. She was saving herself for something real. This was a guy she just met, not necessarily a potential lover. Genevieve’s rationalizations did nothing to stop her desires.
Sam saw the way that she was looking at him, but he didn’t want to be the one to make the first move. Hadn’t he done enough for the night: taking her out for coffee, punching a man in the face, dropping her home…
He was content to just watch her and let her make the first move. It was out of character for Sam; he typically jumped into action and swept a woman off her feet. He felt out of place doing that now. It felt right to let Genevieve take the lead.
Genevieve broke the silence.
“So… What do you do for a living?” Genevieve asked. Sam found her attempts to draw the conversation out transparent but a little bit charming.
Even if Sam found her charming, he didn’t want to answer her question. Sam realized that by asking that, Genevieve had obviously noticed that he made a lot of money. Why did he have to buy that flashy car? Sam hated this question, especially when it came from women he was interested in. Answering that question was always a bit tricky for him due to the outcome.
Sam made more money than he knew what to do with, and he wanted to make even more. He was climbing up the corporate ladder and by age 33 he was almost at the top. Sam was one of those wunderkind types. He wasn’t ashamed of it, but it didn’t change the way that people treated him. He hated that. He really just wanted to be a regular guy again, but those days were over.
Normally, when women found out that he made a lot of money, the way they treated him changed. They went from aloof to clingy. They would concoct situations so they could have opportunities to beg Sam for cash. One woman had even tried to poke holes in condoms to get herself pregnant. That particular girlfriend had gotten the axe quickly. Because of that, Sam had tried his best to avoid bringing up the conversation of money with anyone new that he met. He usually wanted to survey the territory first. But Genevieve asked him directly and Sam didn’t want to lie. So he kept it vague.
“I work in finance,” Sam mumbled. His discomfort was clear.
Genevieve looked at him with raised eyebrows as if she were pressing him for more information. Everyone in the city worked in finance in some way or another. Hell, even drug dealers sometimes claimed to work in finance. It was obvious that Genevieve wasn’t going to let him get away with that answer. Sam sighed and then took a leap of faith. How bad could this girl be anyways? He had been met with his fair share of crazies and Genevieve just didn’t seem like one of them. In fact, she seemed a bit reserved for a woman who lived in the city.
“Fine… I’m the CFO of Apex Development. It’s a big position... I don’t like to talk about this much,” Sam muttered. He brushed his hair out of his face and stroked his chin.
Genevieve wondered why he seemed so anxious. It was an amazing job… Most guys would be happy to brag about that kind of thing. Genevieve was actually impressed both by Sam's job and the fact that he hadn't jumped at the opportunity to brag. This guy couldn’t be much older than her, yet he was a CFO of a major corporation. He wouldn’t have seemed that wealthy if it weren’t for his car too so Genevieve got the idea that he kept a low profile.
“Well that sounds pretty cool,” Genevieve replied. She didn’t know what else to say, even if she was the one who asked the question. Genevieve wondered what the CFO of a big corporation like that was doing hanging out at a dingy little salsa bar. What kind of an oddball was this?
An awkward silence filled the air. The September chill was becoming unbearable. Sam realized it was getting late and although he was interested in speaking with Genevieve, he didn’t want to do it like this. He wanted to take her out on a real date where their evening wouldn’t be tainted by mysterious creeps.
Sam cleared his throat and said to Genevieve, “Hey, why don’t you take my card. I’d love to meet up with you again. During the daytime. Somewhere that’s not a seedy bar with the occasional salsa night.”
Sam smiled, letting Genevieve know he wasn’t just asking her out to be polite
. He was actually interested in her. Genevieve was surprised at his interest. She barely picked up on that kind of thing. Sam had given off the impression that he was the kind of guy who would only take a girl home for a one night stand. With a car like that, she figured he was the type of guy to impress women with his flashy possessions and domineering ways. He certainly wasn’t the type of guy to give a woman his phone number… At least that’s not what she thought. Genevieve was starting to wonder if she should question her assumptions a bit more.
Anyways, how could she say no to a face like that? She took his card and slipped it into her wallet. She thanked Sam profusely for driving her home. As Genevieve opened the door to let herself in for the night, Sam called after her in a half joking way, “I would have invited myself up but I think you had enough sleaze balls for the night.” It was funny, but packed with flirty undertones.
She laughed at his joke almost too loudly. He was definitely interested. Her sweet giggle filled the empty streets. When she closed the door behind her and made her way up to her apartment, both she and Sam felt that tingly feeling you get when you meet someone new who you actually have potential with. Genevieve didn’t know how to interpret her feelings for Sam. But Sam understood how he felt about her… She was sexy, adorable, and had a beautiful laugh. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to see her again.
Prepped For Love: BWWM Pregnancy Romance Novel Page 15
