by Koko Brown
Roxanne smiled despite herself. The arrogant bastard. He wasn’t asking if she’d climaxed.
WantTheBIGOne: I more than liked it. I might be addicted.
ThePuppetMaster: Me too. Now—can we get to know each other better?
WantTheBIGOne: Can I get that list first?
Chapter Four
“Miss Roxanne, your cell phone’s ringing.”
“Who is it, Jessina? I need to finish dressing this mannequin for the front window before we get out of here.” Roxanne stepped back to eye the intricate folds of the blue cocktail dress from French design team Berge & Christian. The dress, a piece from their highly coveted spring collection, was so beautiful. It reminded her of a wedding cake.
“If its Joplin’s, tell them I’m still waiting on those wool berets I ordered over six weeks ago. By the time they get here it’ll be summer, and I don’t know any Chicago socialite willing to rock wool after Memorial Day, no matter how fashion forward they are.”
Jessina leaned over the front counter with the phone held out, already anticipating Roxanne’s next move. “It’s Leo.”
Roxanne jerked, which caused the mannequin to teeter on its three-prong stand.
Several gut-wrenching days had passed since she’d been spanked by Leo, and they hadn’t spoken. They’d never gone this long without either speaking or texting one another at least twice a day.
“I’ll call him back.”
“You’ll call him back?” Jessina set the phone back down on the front counter. “Trouble in paradise?”
“No. I have so much to do so we can both get out of here before midnight,” she lied. Despite having online sex with Constantine, she still found herself thinking about Leo almost every minute of the day. So to protect herself and to sort through the feelings slowly drowning her in a mountain of confusion, Roxanne was being a coward. She was avoiding him.
“Do you think I was born yesterday?”
“Even if it’s none of your business, the answer is no,” Roxanne replied. Ignoring Jessina’s disapproving look, she turned the mannequin around to ensure the garment’s fit.
Jessina came around the counter spewing a litany of curses in rapid-fire Spanish, one of the older Dominican woman’s regular habits. Roxanne barely batted an eye.
“You’re right, querida. As your employee, it’s none of my business, but I’d like to think you and I are more than that. I care for you like I care for my own knuckleheaded ninos. That’s why I’m concerned that you’re blowing Leo off. In the three years I’ve been working here, I’ve never known you to not accept his calls. But today you’ve done it twice. So what gives? What did you do?”
“Why would you automatically think I did something?”
“I know you and I know Leo,” Jessina replied. “What did you do?”
Caged in with nowhere to run, Roxanne concentrated on the mannequin, turning it this way and that. Noticing the gown’s loose fit near the right hip, she reached into the craft apron tied around her waist and pulled out a box of stick pins. Hopefully Jessina would take the hint and go back to uploading the week’s promotional items on the boutique’s website.
No such luck. Jessina continued to stand there with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
Roxanne pursed her lips. When Jessina latched onto a bone, she was worse than any pit bull. “Leo wants to be more than friends.”
“And you’re just realizing this?”
Roxanne winced. It was one thing to admit the truth, quite another to have someone else throw it in your face. “Someone forgot to forward me the memo.”
Jessina snorted. “Obviously.”
“How long have you known about his feelings for me? Did he tell you?” Unsettled by the direction of the conversation, Roxanne tried to extract a couple of pins but the bones in her fingers had suddenly turned to goo.
“Give me those before you drop them all over the floor.”
Roxanne hated showing any sign of weakness, but Jessina was right. If she didn’t let her do it, they’d both be on their hands and knees picking up stick pins.
Jessina pulled several pins out of the box and placed them between her full lips. “I picked up on it the first day I met him,” she mumbled.
Roxanne slapped her hand across her forehead. “I feel so stupid.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, querida. The object of affection is always the last to know. Still, that doesn’t justify your handling of the situation.”
Anger stiffened Roxanne’s spine. “What do you mean my handling of the situation?”
Jessina waved her hand. “Don’t get your thong in a bunch. I just think you’re being a bit childish about the whole thing. So what if Leo finally told you? It doesn’t mean you have to hide from him.”
Roxanne folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not hiding from him.”
One of Jessina’s thinly plucked eyebrows lifted as if to say, “Who are you kidding?”
“Okay, okay, something happened between Leo and me and it can’t happen again.”
Jessina’s face suddenly lit up like she’d discovered the cure for cancer. Roxanne braced herself. “Yo comprendo. You’re not ready to face the fact that you have feelings for him as well.”
Roxanne shook her head. “I love Leo, but not in the way he wants.” Jessina looked up at her sharply and, reluctantly, Roxanne decided to come clean. “Jessina, I’m so confused. What if it doesn’t work between us?”
“It’s a chance you have to take.”
“That’s just it—I don’t want to take a chance on our friendship. It’s one of the best things in my life besides this boutique.”
“When it comes to love, caution only crushes true happiness. If it doesn’t work between you two, it won’t be the end of the world.”
“Only the end of our friendship. Plus, I think it may be too late.”
“What do you mean too late?”
Roxanne pulled on her earlobe. She was about to open another can of worms. “I’ve sort of met someone else.”
“Who, and why haven’t I met him yet?”
If I have anything to do with it, you won’t. “I just met him about a week ago.”
“So the plot gets thicker,” the older woman huffed, plopping her hands on her rounded hips. “And where did you meet lover boy?”
“I met him on an online dating website.”
“Madre de Dios,” Jessina moaned, clapping a hand over forehead. “Now there’s no way I’m going to have a good night’s sleep. Don’t you realize any and everybody can be on those things? If you don’t watch yourself, you’re going to wake up dead.”
Roxanne’s lips quirked. “That’s going to be pretty impossible, don’t you think?”
Jessina’s brow wrinkled. “Why?”
“How am I going to wake up if I’m already dead?”
Jessina pretended to pull the tight, salt-and-pepper curls of her short afro from her scalp. “You know what I mean, smarty pants. But I guess you think it’s funny that your behavior could land you in a landfill cut up into a half-dozen pieces?”
Roxanne wrapped her arm around Jessina’s shoulders and pulled her close. “My mother didn’t raise a fool. I’ve been extremely cautious. I already know more about Constantine than most guys I’ve dated casually.”
“So did Ted Bundy’s girlfriends.”
“I might not know what he looks like, but I do know we both come from large families, attended local colleges and we both own our own companies. Oh, and he’s allergic to oranges.”
Jessina pulled away, a frown indenting deep lines in her mocha skin. “Allergic to oranges? So is Leo. Do you remember when I made morir sonando for the boutique’s Christmas party two years ago? Everyone loved it, but Leo turned as red as a Santa Claus suit.”
How could I forget? Jessina’s milk-and-orange-juice concoction sent Leo to St. Francis’ emergency room gasping for air.
Jessina remained silent for longer than usual. Roxanne braced herself. “Are you sure your n
ew novio isn’t Leo?”
Despite her own lingering doubts, Roxanne shrugged off the older woman’s insinuation. “Let me get this straight. You think Constantine and Leo are one and the same because they’re both allergic to oranges?”
“Si! They’re both allergic to oranges. I’d never heard of such a thing in all my years until I met Leo. And now your Constantine suffers from the same ailment. And didn’t you say he owns his own company and comes from a big family?”
Roxanne recalled the late-night online conversations that usually lasted until the wee hours of the morning, and nothing raised any red flags, even now. Granted, the orange allergy was odd. But Roxanne also came from a large family—three older sisters and a younger brother—and owned her own company. Plenty of people did.
“Purely coincidental, Jessina,” Roxanne concluded. “Plus, Leo has too much common sense than to do something so stupid. If he did, he’d wear my footprint for a week.”
Jessina chuckled, her meaty shoulders shaking in amusement. “The heart knows nothing about common sense.”
It was true Leo was particularly determined when it came to something he wanted. He wouldn’t be worth eight million cool ones if he wasn’t. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll meet Constantine.”
“When? And don’t come crying to me if your dead body is found rotting in a crack house.”
Roxanne planted her hands on the older woman’s shoulders. “As soon as I get home, I’ll jump online and set up a time and a place for us to meet.”
“Fine. The sooner you meet, the sooner you can kick him to the curb and be with the man you’re supposed to be with. And the sooner you admit it, the happier we’ll all be.”
“And why will you be happier?”
Jessina tipped her head and gazed up at the ceiling with a fond look. “Whenever Leo drops in, he brings those little red velvet cupcakes you like so much.”
Roxanne shook her head. “So all of this boils down to a cupcake fix for you?”
“Hey, I’m a menopausal woman married to an impotent husband. What else is there for me to look forward to?”
* * * * *
“Are you up to date on your birth control?”
Roxanne turned to Jessina, the taxi’s polished vinyl seat squeaking under her thighs. If both of them were closing, they always shared a cab uptown. It was less time-consuming than taking public transportation, and warmer too. “That’s kind of a random question, don’t you think? And don’t forget, personal.”
“Just wondering,” Jessina replied as she looked out the other widow. “You suddenly have all these novios and a girl can’t be too careful.”
Thankfully, the cab was slowing to a stop. In an effort to hurry her along, Roxanne reached over and pulled the door handle. Of course, her self-appointed busybody took her time gathering her things. Still, Roxanne’s patience outlasted Jessina’s pace.
“Have a good day’s rest tomorrow.”
“You too, Jessina. See you Monday.” Roxanne sat back so Jessina could shut the door. But instead of doing so, Jessina stuck her head back in.
“Miss Roxanne, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, ask away.”
“Promise me you won’t be like one of those silly women in romance novels, who only realize they want the hero when they see them with someone else. Call Leo back and tell him you’ve changed your mind.”
Roxanne sighed. “Good night, Jessina.” She leaned forward and tapped the cab’s separating glass. “1455 Lincoln Avenue, please.”
“I can’t go anywhere unless she steps away from the door,” the cabbie said, jabbing his thumb at Jessina.
Finding herself at an impasse with a cold Chicago wind biting at her bones, Roxanne sighed. She rummaged through her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll at least talk to him, if it will make you feel any better. I’ll see if he’s free for dinner tomorrow.” In short order, Roxanne sent Leo a text message.
Smiling brightly, Jessina stepped back and shut the door. “Good night, Miss Roxanne.”
Roxanne could barely wave goodbye before the cab jumped from the curb and merged into traffic. She tried her best to sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride but with each passing block, Jessina’s words in her head and no return text from Leo, Roxanne slowly worked herself into a dither.
Had she really fucked up for good? Already? Had he moved on with someone else?
Suddenly unable to stand the taxi’s close quarters or the questions riding her conscience, Roxanne tapped on the separating window. “Can you let me out at the next light, please?”
The driver looked at her through the rear-view mirror. “Are you sure?”
“More than sure,” she replied, handing him some cash. “I need to exercise my legs.” And a few personal demons.
Roxanne alighted from the cab as soon as he stopped. Head down, hands shoved in her coat pockets, she pounded the pavement. For how long, she didn’t know—until she looked up and found herself in Old Town.
“Geesh, I have it bad.” Roxanne’s steps slowed until she came to a standstill in the middle of the sidewalk. Not only had she walked more than fifteen blocks, she’d also found her way to Leo’s neighborhood.
At half-past ten on a Saturday night, Old Town was a beehive of activity. People streamed in and out of the bars and restaurants and a crowd of moviegoers was flowing out of Regal Cinemas across the street.
Not in the mood for dealing with the crush, Roxanne decided to head home. Turning around, she headed back up the block, toward the station on the corner for one of the uptown trains. The rocking of the train and its screeching starts and stops would be a welcome respite from the silent confines of a cab.
Before she could execute her escape, the wind was knocked out of her sails and she stopped dead once again.
Despite the dense crowd milling around her, she spotted Leo, standing out like a Christmas tree at Easter. A tall drink of water with broad shoulders, he stood head and shoulders above everyone else.
He was also an exotic foil to his beautiful companion—a petite blonde clinging to his arm like a Chihuahua with owner-separation anxiety.
“Sticky Vicky.” Roxanne instantly recognized the fashionable shoulder-length bob and killer bod of Leo’s ex-fiancée.
Arm in arm, the two of them picked their way through the crowd, moving in her direction. For what felt like an eternity, Roxanne watched them as they talked and laughed.
“Probably catching up on old times,” she muttered, her nails biting into the meaty flesh of her palms. While they chatted, she concentrated on the pain. Better than acting upon the sudden urge to gift Miss Perfect with another nose job. Leo had paid for the first one as a twenty-fifth birthday present.
Feeling the walls closing in as they ate up the distance, Roxanne suddenly, desperately pursued a quick exit. Drawn by the bright lights of a store, she ducked inside. Somewhat disoriented, Roxanne closed her eyes to regain her bearings, feeling like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.
“Hello! Welcome to Kandy’s House of Kink.”
Roxanne’s eyes popped open and she found herself face-to-face with a twenty-something woman decked out in a hot-pink latex tank dress and matching collar.
Roxanne bit down her bottom lip. The younger woman reminded her of a walking, talking prophylactic. She stood in front of a wall of brightly colored condoms.
“I’m running a totally rad special today,” the woman continued, stepping forward and shoving a bubblegum-pink plastic basket into Roxanne’s hands. “If you buy a pair of handcuffs at full price, you’ll receive a fifty percent discount on all our dildos and vibrators. If you need any help, don’t be afraid to ask. I’m Kandy, by the way.”
Killing two birds with one stone, Roxanne thought. She could hide from Leo and fulfill the wish list Constantine had given her last week that she hadn’t had the balls to actually fill.
Right off, Roxanne found a pair of red, rubber-coated handcuffs on a revolving carousel near the front cou
nter and dropped them in her basket. Remembering the discount, and one of the most important items on the list sitting next to her computer at home, she ventured deeper into the store.
With its polished wood floors, fluorescent lighting and clean, white-washed walls, Kandy’s House of Kink reminded Roxanne of a chic boutique rather than a sex shop. So of course, she immediately lost herself amongst the shelves lined with nipple clamps, oils activated by body temperature, butt plugs, edible panties, cock cages and every kind of toy any sexual libertine could want or dream of.
“Out on a late-night dildo run?”
The hairs on the back of Roxanne’s neck tingled. She knew that voice, even in the dizzying bowels of Kandy’s House of Kink.
Why did she have to run in to Leo here? And standing in front of a wall of plastic cocks! Sucking in a calming breath, Roxanne slowly turned around. Of course, she didn’t immediately look up. That would’ve been too much to handle all at once.
So while she fought to gain her bearings, Roxanne checked him out. Starting at the tips of his scuffed square-toed boots, she let her gaze begin a slow, upward crawl. She smiled at the haphazard cuff in his dark rinse jeans, sure he’d flipped the hem more for ease of walking than as a fashion statement.
Her smile faded slightly as she took in his muscular thighs and slim hips. He looked so good in his jeans, Roxanne almost dropped her basket just so she could see him bend over and pick it up.
Her eyes lingered on his groin a little longer before moving on to his narrow waist and trim torso encased in a navy v-neck cashmere sweater layered over a white t-shirt. His chest was so well defined, Roxanne was sure the shirt itself loved being molded to his body. If she were in its place, she certainly would.
He had to be the most mouthwatering specimen of male flesh this side of a men’s magazine style sheet. And she should have noticed years ago. He was what the fashion magazines dubbed a “sexy nerd”, with his perfect body normally hidden behind loose clothing, inky curls barely tamed and his baby blues hidden behind glasses.
Not bothering to check her thoughts, Roxanne finally answered his question. “You know what they say? A dildo in the hand is worth two fingers in the bush.”
