by Ryli Jordan
Thank you all for your concern. Blake and I broke up. It was nobody’s fault. Sometimes relationships are a tricky thing, aren’t they? The fact is that I can’t keep blaming him or myself. Maybe we all blame each other because that makes life easier for us. But the truth is, it was as much my fault as it was his. So don’t go around hating Blake. It won’t do anyone any good. We’re both adults and the best thing to do was end it.
I wish that I could say that the experience has taught me something but it hasn’t. Not really. It was mostly suffering and pain. Maybe it taught me how stupid I was for trusting somebody more than I could afford to. Maybe it taught me to stop being so goddamned stupid when it comes to men and their favors and their attention. Or maybe it all just showed me that there is no such thing as love. Love is just the “happily ever after” we give ourselves…because the truth isn’t so pretty. The truth doesn’t get shared or make any money. The truth is that we all get deceived into being in a relationship we can’t handle. We suffer…and suffer…until someone breaks.
Well, I’m tired of breaking. And I don’t demand everyone hate Blake. I know some of you will always be his friend and I don’t want to change your opinion of him. It wouldn’t be right.
Anyway, I’m just ranting. I need to focus on work. I need to focus on something that actually matters in life. It’s time to stop pretending we’re all teenagers late for the prom. It’s time to grow up and be a fucking adult. Stop crying. Start living again.
Who knows what happened to Staci and why she became the woman who can’t trust—what turned her into a lady, a girl, full of spontaneity and chances, and melted her into a woman of secrets and regrets.
After thinking it over, rereading her post, and thinking about her statements about why she can’t love anyone, I decided to change my tune. I don’t really know if it was my mind regrouping and strategizing, or if I simply felt bad for her, and detested the flavor of myself being part of her grief. God forbid her ex was like me in any way! Maybe she hated me because I reminded her of the ex. Shit, I would hate me too if I reminded me of me.
Wait a minute, that can’t be right, can it?
Regardless, I felt a change grow inside of me at that moment. From that point on, I no longer wanted to be a pain in Staci’s already aching heart. I simply wanted to be a source of joy, and occasionally, a source of comforting food. Call it the humanitarian motivation. Whatever she said before about doing good for one’s fellow person resonated with me.
For the next three times we met, perhaps she was surprised to see a much jollier chef, who wasn’t picking on her, or trying to ask her out to dinner, or eye fucking her. I simply decided that other things mattered in life. Business was going well, Staci and her people had done a swell job at investing in new opportunities and giving back to charity all on behalf of my name. Imagine that, Kenneth Free actually being a nice guy for a change.
At some point she actually noticed that I was leaving her alone and seemed oddly intrigued at my new change of heart. I was working in the office, pass quitting time as usual. Having come earlier to discuss changes in my planning with my staff, she decided to stop by and get the lowdown on my “sudden” change.
“What’s with you lately?” she said, folding her arms and shifting her chin up.
“What do you mean?” Her white, silky blouse did nothing to hide her nipples. I gulped and my cock twitched, but I had to be a good guy, for now.
“You’re behaving differently.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. You’re not being a pest. You’re being respectful. You even stopped calling me lady, girl and all your other nicknames.”
“Huh,” I said, eying my computer with more interest. “Imagine that.”
“Yeah. Almost like you’re a nice guy all of a sudden.”
“Well, we know that can’t be true,” I smirked.
“So what changed?”
“Nothing changed,” I scoffed. “I’ve just been busy with work.”
“Oh yeah. Work. Speaking of which…there’s a new benefit I want to talk to you about about. It’s working with Modale Marketing. We want to set up an event for fighting cancer. It’s called ‘Healthy Eating Saves Lives’. The focus is gourmet cooking. And we want you as the celebrity chef. You’re going to teach a variety of people, patients, doctors, and other big wigs, how to cook vegan foods that can help with treatment.”
“Sounds lovely. I can think of a dozen recipes just off the top of my head.”
“Save it for the show,” she said with a smile.
“On the weekend I presume?”
“No, actually I was hoping you could present on Friday. Not this Friday but next Friday.”
“Oh I see. Well…”
“We could reschedule it, I suppose. But you usually say you’re free on Friday nights.”
“Well…not that Friday. I actually have…well, plans for that night.”
“You don’t ever have plans,” she snapped. “What?”
I laughed in disbelief. “I do have a life apart from work, strange and horrifying as that may seem.” Her left hand perched on her right hip. I know her attitude was changing so I needed to tread lightly.
“It’s just weird, since you indicated a while back that you’re available any Friday for whatever reason. Your quote.” Staci stood glaring
She was even more beautiful when she was frustrated.
“Well,” I said, trying my best not to sneer. “It just so happens I have a date with a young lady. Miss Rainne Jenner. The celebrity cook from Channel 4 News?”
“You have a date?” she asked, now putting her folders on her hip and staring me down.
“Is that ethically reprehensible now? I can’t keep up with injustice on a daily basis, so busy.”
“Yeah well this is charity. It’s more important than you unloading your seed,” she said.
“Why Friday?” I questioned.
“Why the hell are you dating another chef anyway?”
“Why? She can cook. I figured we’d have something in common. She’s quite beautiful, you know. She’s blond, she’s tall…she’s got big ah, an audience. A huge local audience. Ratings.”
“Uh huh,” she said, seeming a bit bitter about it. “Look, if you’re trying to make me jealous it’s not working.”
“I swear I’m not. I’m just knocking off my churlish behavior for a change. Women seem to like it when I’m not trying to constantly get into their pants. What do you know. Err, but Rainne Jenner doesn’t count. She really wants me to get into her pants. She actually wrote me a message the other day and...”
I laughed, but Staci seemed livid.
“I don’t want to know about that!” she said spitefully. “All I’m saying is that you made a commitment to charity. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“I’ve made plenty of commitments, Staci,” I said, losing my smile. “I intend to honor them. But let’s stop playing this game. I’m a lonely man. There’s really only one type of cure for my loneliness. And I’m not going to wait for you forever. I thought I was doing you a favor by letting go of my silly Vegas dream, remember?”
“You are…” she said hesitantly. “I mean…I don’t care about that. I’m just saying…I want you there, this Friday. I mean next Friday. I’m asking you as a favor.”
“Yeah but why can’t we reschedule?”
“Because…” she said unsurely, turning her head and maybe not so sure what she thought anymore. “I already made plans. I already told people…everyone’s so excited you’re coming.”
“They’ll get over it.”
“Look just do me a favor, okay? As a friend. You can screw Big Tits Rainne Jenner any weekend, I don’t give a shit. It’s your life. But this is not the kind of event that comes around every week. This is a chance to help some kids.”
She frowned and met my eyes for a strong and emotionally charged moment. I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but she was damn intent on me hearing her.
; “If we reschedule the pricks at Modale will probably just change their minds. Be a hero.”
“Well now…”
“Be a hero for me. Will you do it for me?”
I sighed and couldn’t help but smile. “All right. You owe me a business dinner though.”
“I do owe you dinner. I’ll prepare you a live squid to commemorate your one good deed for me.”
I laughed hard and went back to my work. “Fine, see you then Staci Abrahams.”
I don’t really know if I played her or not. I was serious about moving on and dating someone else and didn’t really use it as a bluff. And I was serious about not waiting for her, and shaping up to treat her more like a co-worker and less like a billionaire douche.
But damn, I have to admit anytime she flashed me that smile and those pleading eyes…I couldn’t say no. I would cancel anything, a tour of the White House, a date with Marilyn Monroe, anything to just be in her presence, cracking jokes and trading family histories. Something about her was so calming, so inspiring…I was hooked.
She was an exotic recipe all her own, and I would do anything to learn the ingredients of what made her so pure, so blissfully tasty. I was a man obsessed. It wasn’t about sex anymore. Something about Staci was my redemption. And what’s what I craved the most.
Chapter 7
Staci
The event was a success, as I figured it would be. Although Knox has his prickly surface…when he actually chills out and talks one on one, he’s a decent guy. Thankfully, that’s the guy that showed up to the charity cook-a-thon. I watched him from a distance joking around with parents, children and attendees. He only seemed to have an attitude with some of the marketing people. Yeah…that seems like him. A rebel to the end. Dominate alpha male who was insanely sexy.
At that moment, I didn’t know what I felt about Knox. Sometimes when I was angry at him I thought of him as “Knox”. But sometimes, when I thought about him and about the nice side of him he seems to hide from everybody…I think about Ken. The man behind the name. The real person behind the celebrity.
Sometimes I even wonder if he’s been hurt like I have.
How does a man with everything…seem so vacant? So detached? He loves food, he loves giving birth to a meal. I’m sure he loves fucking some groupie girl who knows his face and name because that experience proves to him he’s alive. He’s something special. But why is he absent from real conversation? Maybe through dinner I could figure out what makes him tick.
About two hours into the event, after he had a chance to show off and make a touching speech, I got a chance to visit with the superstar of the day. His tailored suit fit him so well. I imagined untying the thin, metallic black tie and unbuttoning the collared shirt to see the pecks and abs underneath. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen Knox wear short sleeve shirts. His scent was masculine and dominate with a hint of citrus that fit his refreshing attitude tonight.
“How does it feel?” I asked him, taking a seat at an empty table. Even now, after basking in the limelight and delighting the crowd with laughter, he still looked at me longingly. I purposely waxed my pussy the day before. I don’t know why. I guess I wanted to be prepared for anything. This wasn’t really a date night, but a woman has needs- it’s been over a year! I wore a simple black dress, for this formal occasion. But he looked at me with twice the attention he gave anyone else. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t crave the man’s attention, whether for better or worse.
“How does what feel?”
“To be worshiped by people you don’t even know.” His blue eyes haunted me and a began to get nervous hoping our conversation was headed in a positive direction. The atmosphere was so electric I wanted to savor it.
He laughed, a bit tiredly though. I think all the heavy socializing and kidding around with all the happy (and sick) people took its toll on him.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“What do you mean?” I said, mirroring his smile, for once, minus the snark.
“How does it feel to have a man fall in love with you, seeing only your pretty face, longing to have you? He knows what he feels, and he swears every bit of it is truth. But he doesn’t know anything about you. He just uses your persona to satisfy his own hunger. Whether physical or…spiritual.”
“Love? Spiritual? So men have a spiritual purpose for pursuing me?”
“Usually. They confuse your beauty with their self-worth. They feel they deserve someone this good. The perfect ten.”
“Hmmm. And when those girls chase after you, do they confuse you with their self-worth?” I switched my weight to get closer to him. Was Knox shitting me with all this crap or was he opening up? Either way I was soaking it in and enjoying. I could hardly see the pupils in his dark blue eyes. The lights were low as some people where dancing to the music and many of the parents were leaving with the children. The other segment of the gala event was just starting as the food presentation was done.
“Hell no, they just want a story to tell. An urban legend about the time they screwed Chef Knox. They just want to tell tales and compare my cock size with what they heard about Jack Nicholson and Gordon Ramsay.”
“I wasn’t aware Gordon had a massive cock,” I covered my mouth in surprise.
“Well I don’t know…but I bet he pays them well to lie about that part of it.”
I laugh pretty hard.
“He doesn’t mind if everybody thinks he’s an asshole. But he better be well hung in all these stories. I can relate to that.”
“And why are you so intent to be an asshole? You have to admit, you do make it difficult for people to like you.”
“Because maybe I’m not ready. You know what I’m talking about. The ‘stuff’. The idea that just because we are lonely, we think we deserve what everybody else has. What we don’t appreciate though is that all these stupid couples, the ones we make fun of…the nerds, the morning people and the charlatans…they’ve all suffered a great deal to have tolerable marriages. That’s the part we never see. People like me, well…we try and we fail gloriously, don’t we?”
I didn’t know what to say. I stared at him and thought about my own baggage. Faded memories. Wasted time. Silent regret. Longing to go back to the way things were before the bitterness soaked in. He spoke like a man who understood. Not just because I was asking for sympathy…but because he had been there. Maybe even far deeper in than I once thought.
“Well,” I said slowly, surprised at what was coming out of my mouth. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s better to try than to give up. Giving up is sure failure. Trying is a wild card.”
“Staci Abrahams, are you telling me to keep believing in love? What a shocking thing for you to say.”
“Maybe that’s what friends are for,” I said, looking into his wounded but alert eyes. “To keep each other trying.”
“It’s a respectable point of view. Fun too. Despair and waiting to die, not so fun.”
“Have you resigned from looking for love? Is that why you distract yourself with girls who worship you rather than…”
“Rather than what?”
“You know. Women who challenge you.”
“I believe in one day at a time. I think deep down I always have. Because I know for instance…that I really like you.”
I swallowed hard, uneasy with the conversation. But this time, I didn’t want to run away. I didn’t want to slap his face and taunt him. I didn’t even want to change the subject. I felt strangely compelled to listen. I stared into his eyes, wanting to know just how “in love” or “in lust” he was with me. Whatever it was that he felt for me, I wanted to feel it too.
“When I first saw you I thought you were gorgeous. You reminded me of Natalie Portman or Jackie Kennedy. But the more I got to know you I realized, well damn…here is a really good person. Someone that has huge aims. Someone that has dreams…someone that hopes in all people, wants to help everyone be one step above what they are. I really forgot that
people like you existed. You were a refreshing reminder of what a good woman could be. What all good people were capable of being. If only we tried a little harder. Of course…I knew you didn’t want me. Nobody falls in love with the TV star, the rebel chef. He’s just a celebrity toy for their amusement. But…I did decide that if I couldn’t have you…I had to meet someone like you. Someone that really made me feel…alive. Like I was really living. That life could still be a wonderful thing with real human value. You, Staci, are the exotic spice that every rich, empty man wants. You’re the recipe for happiness. We’re all just the hands.”
My heart melted and his speech only made me feel incredibly horny. It made me love him or at least accept his humanity. I was touched but dammit, all I felt in that moment, was slick wetness in my groin. Like I had been trying so hard to say no to him, and I just had a temporary lapse in judgment. If he asked me now, I wouldn’t resist.
Maybe it wasn’t just his confession either. Maybe it was just the night…the prospect of going home to an empty house…or maybe even the fresh memory of seeing him shine like a star, knowing he was only here because I asked him to do me a favor.
I can’t always explain my attractions, all of them presumably bad for my health and cruel to my heart. But in that moment, I finally caved. I desired Knox more than anything else. I wanted to give him something special…something that would wow his world and shut him up. I needed to give him a sexual encounter so raw, so vicious, it would just leave him inexplicably happy and thoroughly drained!
But how to say that feeling in words…
I stared at him cluelessly for a long moment. I shook my head. Then I got up and promptly walked away, back to the kitchen in the back. Some people were still in the auditorium but the kitchen was empty and the doors were closed.
I looked back at him and somehow—thank God for my singing eyes—I let him know exactly what I was thinking.
