Yes, Corey, I remember him from high school. He was what we would all call the nerdy jock. He read books; quoted Shakespearean sonnets and women ate from the palm of his giant man hands. He played football and basketball and was the captain of the debate team. Also, if I remember correctly, he knocked up Maryanne, his girlfriend and they had a daughter together as soon as they graduated. Maybe that’s who he divorced. But, the main thing I remember about Corey is he was the funny, gossip guy, the forever chatterbox. Not sure if that’s a good type of man to be talking with. Although, I guess emailing him back wouldn’t hurt. Sorry, Suit Master, I’m going to stick with someone else. Good luck, maybe you’ll find a woman on here.
Resting my wrists on my desk, I ready my fingers and decide now is as good as time as ever to email Corey. So I do. It’s short and sweet and maybe I’ll actually have something to do this weekend besides sit at home reading and watching reruns of The Walking Dead or Bones. Two shows that I absolutely love. That David Boreanaz is one hunk of a man. I especially loved him back when he played Angel. Buffy was an idiot when she said goodbye to him.
Clicking send on my email, I shut down my computer and peer up to the clock. Great, I have spent the past hour on this stupid dating site. I got most of my work done that I had to get done today. If I go home now, Roni should be in her own bed, in her own apartment. So I’ll probably be able to steer clear until our morning tea.
Sliding my heels on and snatching my purse from inside one of my desk drawers. I head out. I’m looking forward to catching some much needed shuteye.
Chapter Four
Beep, Beep, Beep.
Oh, come on! I don’t want to get up; I’m exhausted.
This entire week I’ve stayed at work until nine. Daniel even stayed late on Wednesday to help me come for the second time that day. I’ve been overwhelmed with work and let’s face it, we all know orgasms relax you.
Thursday I received an email back from Corey, and we are planning on meeting for lunch today. Not in Heartfair though. I don’t want the gossip spreading that I officially have a beau. When I say, we have a small town and people talk. They do. I’m sure Dolly would be calling me within the hour to ask a flurry of questions. And I have to tell my mom before I leave. My mom is rarely home so I will be going to her store today.
My mom, Faith, is a hardworking woman, has been since I can remember. Probably where I get my strong work ethic from, because let’s face it; it’s not from my dad, whom I haven’t seen or heard of in over twelve years. I’ll tell you more about that later. Anyhow, downtown here in Heartfair, my mother owns and runs a flower shop. She bought it when we moved here twelve years ago and it’s very popular, because of her ability to create one of a kind arrangements. Now, going with the strange theme of this town, can you guess what her shop is called? Faith’s Flower Shoppe. It’s a Heartfair thing. I find it charming. I’m sure many others find us kooky. But I must say, anything is better than where I lived before moving to Heartfair.
Reaching over to my nightstand, I steal my cell phone and pull it to my face. My eyes are so tired I can’t see straight. Blinking a few times, I’m finally able to focus and I shut down its incessant beeping. I know it’s Saturday and that it’s seven a.m. I always get up at six on the weekdays and seven on the weekends. It’s routine, and I do it so I can wake up and do yoga. I rarely sway from my routine.
Gruffly rolling out of my queen sized pillow top, I fold the ivory duvet back into place. And precisely position each of my eight pillows where they belong.
Weekend routine commencing - bed done.
Next - disrobe, use the potty, brush my teeth and hair, redress, then, on to yoga. Which is down the hall. It has pale green walls, an oversized yoga mat, a large three foot bronze Buddha in the corner that weights a ton. Not literally, but he’s over three hundred pounds. I had three men lugging that giant thing up my stairs a few months back. The room is even complete with its own Zen altar, which is a brown table set with aromatherapy candles, a small bonsai tree and a Zen sand garden. Along one whole wall is bamboo that nearly reaches the ceiling and in the middle of the bamboo wall is a large hexagon stone fountain. Serene is the one word that comes to mind when I think of that room. It’s amazing and worth every penny.
Raising my arms in the air, I lift off my delicate pink satin gown over my head and gently fold it. Placing it on top of my dark brown eight-drawer dresser, which matches my sleigh bed and curved nightstands down to a T. My floor is the same wood I have throughout my house, smooth and flawless. Linens of gold and ivory decorate my bed, along with gold sconces on my plaster ivory walls and a golden crystal chandelier hanging from my inlayed-coffered ceiling. The large area rug adds a sense of warmth with its gold, ivory and red hues. I have an entire wall of windows hung with heavy dark brown swags. I love my bedroom. It gives off a sense of comfort and sophistication, which is exactly what I look for in a bedroom.
Entering the en suite bathroom, I’m startled when I hear Roni yelling. “Lex! Lex! Are you awake?”
What kind of alternate reality did I wake up in? I’m the one who doesn’t want to get up because I’m tired and Roni is awake at seven. It’s a miracle and something’s utterly wrong with this picture.
“Lex!” she yells again, I can hear her voice coming closer so she must have already made her way up the stairs.
“I’m naked, Veronica. What do you want? And more importantly, you do realize it’s the weekend and that it’s seven in the morning.” I call back to her, standing in the doorway between my bed and bath.
My bedroom door flies open and standing there is a rather angry Roni, wearing smiley face pj bottoms and an uglier than sin green camouflage t-shirt. All the short auburn hair atop her head is a disaster. Roni is a pretty girl, a few inches shorter than I am, body curvier and slightly fuller than mine. She has large purplish blue eyes, and petite lips to go with her perfect nose. Except she hides all of that hot body and beauty under a mountain of clothes too big, no makeup, and on an occasion, she actually styles her hair. Roni reminds me a lot of Hayden Penettiere when she had short hair, except Roni’s has freckles and dark red hair. Which is all-natural. I couldn’t get her to dye it to save her life.
Standing in my birthday suit, Roni doesn’t bat an eyelash. We’ve seen each other nude a million times since high school. It’s not a big deal.
“Can I help you?”
She’s frozen, staring at me, her chest rising and falling, heaving for breath. Something has her all in a huff on this beautiful spring morning.
“Your mother came to my apartment this morning to deliver two sets of flowers. Except they’re not for me, they’re for you. They had the address wrong, so now I have two huge bouquets from two different men sitting in your kitchen, on the table. Would you care to explain?” Tapping her foot, she sets her hand on her waist, lips drawn into a taut but cute line that I can’t help but smile at.
“It’s not funny, Lex. You give me shit about having you set up that account and now a Donald and a Corey are sending you flowers. Not cool amigo. Not cool at all.”
“Donald is the guy from the meeting last Monday. This is the fourth bouquet from this week. Apparently not getting a response when he sent them to the office he decided to deliver them to my residence. I can’t control that. And I ran into Corey on that site. It’s high school Corey, you know who I’m talking about, and we’re having lunch today. I didn’t tell you because I know you well enough to know you’ll be getting your hopes up for nothing. I’m not marrying the man, not that I could if I wanted to.”
I’m certain that explanation sufficed because her shoulders visibly relax and she loses the grim expression, replacing it with a tiny smile.
“Good, okay, do your yoga, I’ll make some tea and meet you downstairs in an hour. Sorry, you know I hate flowers and being woken up. Evidently Mom decided she hasn’t gotten that memo the past ten plus years. You’d think since we’ve been best friends forever, she’d have thought to not wake grumpy Vero
nica up.”
Chuckling, I walk over and pull her into a hug. Turning her into a stiff board, she’s not comfortable with affection, but deals with it only if it’s coming from me, my mother and possibly Bob. I have no idea; I haven’t seen them two together. They spend most of their personal time alone in her apartment. I know what they’re doing. Occasionally she forgets she’s left a window open and being the screamer I know she is, I get to hear the entire show, play-by-play. Including and not limited to; multiple orgasms, dirty talk and sometimes gaging. I don’t know what that means. I don’t want to know. So I don’t ask. Her sex life is hers and hers alone. Now, when it comes to mine, she thinks she should have all the say and control it. However, I have other plans.
Releasing her from her hug, Roni uncomfortably dismisses herself from my bedroom and I shut the door behind her.
“How was yoga?” Roni asks sitting at my table in the same clothes she left my bedroom wearing.
“Great as usual.” I reply, taking a seat across from her at the breakfast table and my tea is ready and our newest biscotti flavor is sitting on my pretty plates. Lemon, blueberry, almond biscotti, I picked them up from Barbie’s Bakery yesterday during lunch. When you think of Barbie, you think of dolls, and pink, or that’s what I think of. Barbie’s Bakery sits three shops down from my mom’s on Paramour Avenue. Which by the way is the worst name, in the history of names, to call the main street that runs through the middle of our small city.
Any who, back to what I was saying. Barbie’s Bakery is a confectionary and dough haven, the entire shop looks like it was plucked right out of the fifties. Big glass display cases, bright pink walls, black rotating stools sit at a six person ice-cream bar. It is by far the most adorable store in all of Heartfair. Plus, like Dolly, Barbie the owner is the sweetest woman. She and Dolly are best friends, and have been since high school. How sweet is that?
“So, other than Corey, have you decided on a date with anyone else from that site?” I can tell Roni is treading lightly. Normally she’s more forward and jerkish about stuff like this.
“No, I have no interest.” I’m firm with my answer, even though I’m not being entirely truthful. The Suit Master has sort of been on my mind a lot. After receiving two more emails from him this week. That were just as eloquent, funny and well versed as the first one. I’ve been hard pressed to find a reason not to reply.
Time for a subject change, no more about Lex, how about we talk about Roni, that is sure to make her even more uncomfortable.
“So, Roni, how are you and the hunk-of-burnin’ love from Auto’s doing?” I ask, placing my orange infused tea to my lips. Mmmm, this is delicious. Who am I kidding? All tea is delicious. Some people are coffee addicts. I’m a tea addict.
Crinkling her cute nose, she swirls her spoon in her tea staring into it, like it’s going to give her the answer to my question.
“Well…” I press a little further.
“I’m not sure. Only been dating a few weeks and he wants it to be more than what it is. And you know me, I don’t do more.” Her tone suggests she’s not so sure if she wants what she refers to as ‘more’ or not. Normally I’d say no. But normally her boy-toys typically stick around a week or two, tops. Bob, on the other hand, is closing in on a month. Which tells me she’s not bored yet.
“Are you telling me a man can stand you for a month and wants to have more than hot kinky sex with you?” I giggle at my sarcasm and Roni looks up from her tea, glaring at me, and throws half-eaten biscotti at my head. I duck to the side and it flies past me, hitting the wall and ending up on the floor.
“Fuck you.”
Well, alrighty then. I love you too.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like him, Miss Sassy Britches. Give him a date or two and then see if he can still stand you, your ugly clothes and vibrant, loving, personality.” Apparently, I’m dripping with sarcasm today. Must be this weird morning I’ve had thus far. I fell out of dandayamana-janushirasana pose today, which I’ve not done in two years. Something is off with me and I don’t know what.
“Oh, fuck you, Lex. We are so busy with Keagan Cosmetics and Creams, and I have no desire to ever marry, have children or even a dog for that matter. I’m twenty eight, I like sex, beer, cars, and if I had a penis, I’d probably be happier than bleeding every month.”
No, she wouldn’t. Being a woman is awesome. Why would she ever want to trade that is beyond me.
“Calm down, I love you; I’m just saying Bob might be the right guy. He’s busy too, he’s older, sexy, doesn’t have kids or a dog. He obviously likes sex as much as you do and he just wants a little more, maybe to go to dinners with. I don’t see the auto mechanic asking you to doll yourself up or be something you’re not. Take it for what it is and give him what he wants, or let him go. I don’t understand why it’s imperative for me to date and find someone. All the while, my best friend just wants a damn booty call. Wake up and smell the roses, Roni, what’s good for the goose had better be good for the gander. So, if your butt wants me to date, you will have to put in the effort and do just the same. Got me?” Woo-hoo, I’m a roll today!
Nodding as if she agrees, I get up and sit my mug in the sink. Now it’s time to get dolled up to go out with Corey.
Chapter Five
Agreeing to meet Corey in Lords at Buckeye’s Tavern for lunch and a drink at one. I’m running on time and just pulling up when I see Corey standing outside the taverns metal front door. He’s wearing a light blue polo shirt that highlights his blonde hair and piercing blue eyes perfectly. The rest of his large muscular body is clad in khaki pants and brown loafers. He’s very handsome.
Sliding out of the Jag, my heels nosily ‘click, click, click’ on the blacktop on my way to greet him by the door. Corey turns his head my direction as I’m about half way to him. As soon as he realizes it’s me, his eyes widen and his juicy man lips pull into a dazzling toothy smile. Causing my heart to skip a beat and I lose my breath. Wow, he’s as gorgeous as I remember. The hungry monster between my legs agrees with that observation as well. Not sure if this is a good or a bad sign. Maybe I should have listened to my mom and worn something less tight or revealing. I’d hate for a wet stain to magically appear at the bottom of my dress. That would be unbelievably embarrassing to the hundredth degree.
Today, just before I drove here, I stopped and visited my beautiful mom at her shop. As soon as I set foot in the door, it clanked annoyingly, alerting her that she had a customer. Once she saw it was me, she swooped in for a hug. My mom gives the best hugs on this planet. I know a lot of kids might say that, but in this case, it’s true.
My mom, Faith, is the warmest, kindest woman. She’s five foot six, tiny framed in all ways and has the longest most luxurious black hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever beheld. At fifty-one, she looks thirty-eight and all the men in town lust after her, but she refuses to date. Must be another trait I have picked up, alongside my looks and other things. However, on the rare occasion she seeks a companion, Herald, the handsome UPS driver, takes her out, among other more adult things, I assume.
“You be careful with men you barely know.” My mom forwardly expressed today.
“I will it’s not a date, date, we’re just friends.” I lied, sort of. I know because of my past and the demons that lurk in my closet, she worries constantly about me. So part of the reason I’ve put off dating is for her benefit as much as it is mine. After she finished expressing twenty more reasons I have to be careful, I left and now, here I am.
Under shy lashes, I sidle up next to Corey, trying not to look at him too much. He’s already doing funny things to my stomach.
“You look stunning, Lex.” He gushes, offering his arm, which I accept by tucking my hand through it. His sexy, warm body presses against the outside of my arm and feels so nice touching me. Inhaling his delicious cologne, standing so close to him, I get drunk on his scent. Man, he’s all man, big beefy and probably big dicked.
Ooooppps, this is not a good reac
tion. Damn me and my hormones!
Guiding me through the front doors, we seat ourselves in the far side of the tavern in a four-person booth with red cushioned bench seats. Buckeye’s Tavern isn’t much different from any other small town bar. It offers food, a jukebox, alcohol, and basic seating. In the back, there’s a pool table and dartboard. Since its lunch hour on the weekend, it’s fairly empty, besides a few who I assume are regulars, sitting at the bar sipping beer and watching some form of sports on the TV plastered on the wall.
“What can I get cha?” Mary the well-worn heavyset waitress with too much blue eye shadow asks, dropping two plastic menus on our table.
“I’d like an iced tea, no lemon. Thank you.” I order and Corey winks at me as he orders the same.
Yes, this might not have been a good idea. I think I might have a wet spot already on my tight jade green slouch dress.
Sitting in awkward silence after the waitress disappears, I nervously stare down at my menu, running my fingers up and down the sides of the cheap plastic.
What do I want? What do I order? A burger is what I would probably order, but I’m a lady and this is sort of a first date.
Coming to take our orders, I go the safe route and pick a chicken Caesar salad and onion rings, Corey opts for a bacon cheeseburger and waffle fries. Hungry fella, I’m sure his bulging muscles need something to burn off. I bet he spends hours in the gym. Good God I can’t stop staring.
“Don’t stop looking at me, Lex.” Cupping my chin with his beefy fingers, he tilts my face so I am forced to meet his gaze. There goes my heart again. Oh, wow! I’m not used to this.
“I might not know what to say because, well…I’m a bit out of practice with the whole dating thing. But, I love to look at you. You’re even more beautiful since I last saw you. I think it was in Walmart about four years ago. I was back visiting my parents with Maryanne and our daughters.” Brushing my hair out my face, he tucks the strand behind my ear.
Lex (Unconventional Hearts) Page 3
