Fire Heart (Broken Bottle Series Book 2)

by Taeuffer, Pamela

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “I really like you . . . a lot.”

  “I really like you, too. Ciao, Bella.” As he hung up, I heard him chuckling.

  Chapter 28

  Shopping for a Hot Dress

  Jenise made a unilateral decision to go to Union Square to shop for the clothes I needed. It was the oldest and in my opinion, the most charming shopping area in all of San Francisco. In addition to stores like Neiman Marcus, Saks Fifth Avenue, and Nordstrom, there were also many expensive designer boutiques.

  “Let me pick out some dresses and I’ll tell you what looks good. You don’t know any better,” my sister joked.

  "Hey, not nice," I protested.

  “Trust me, I know what’ll look good on your curvy body.”

  “Don’t pick anything that shows my boobs or ass,” I warned.

  “You can’t hide those," she giggled. "Why worry about them?”

  “I’m serious, Jenise."

  “So am I,” she countered.

  While I followed her as she looked through the racks of evening and cocktail dresses, we talked more about Sid Freeman and Walter Dixon. I revealed more of the details of Ryan's acquaintance, Mr. Tremmel and the time needed for Dad's disability to come through. Then, I told her about my meeting with Walter Dixon, the Athletic Director at Stanford and how I believed he was Ryan's angel on Earth. I strategically hid from her my conversations with Misters Woodson and Blockley, In case my budding romance didn’t work out; I didn’t want to set her up for disappointment.

  “Here, take these three dresses into the changing room." She shoved them into my open arms. "Be sure to come out and model each one for me. They’re having a clearance sale, so you’ll have money left over for the other pieces you need. Do I know how to shop or what?”

  "We'll see," I teased. I tried on the first dress and modeled for her. I got a thumbs-down. Tried on the second dress and walked out to show her.

  “That’s it!” She threw her arms up.

  It was a royal blue Adrianna Papell sheath dress, with intricate lace overlays, softly pleated cap sleeves, a U-shaped neck and an alluring back cutout. It fell at my knee.

  “Oh, that’s so your color! Your green eyes, your wavy flowing hair on your bare shoulders . . . Ooh his tongue will be hanging out so far it'll be on the ground. Plus, there's the right amount of hug against your ass to spin him into a wild fantasy.”

  I felt my edges begin to round. My feminine side gently stroked me from within as it yearned to expose my soft underbelly. It seemed as if a shiny brass ring hung in front of me.

  If I could reach it, what would I do?

  “You’re unbelievable at this, sissy girl. Now that we're done, can I take you to dinner or do you have a date with Sean?” I batted my eyelashes mocking her affections.

  “No Sean tonight." She made a pouty face. "He's got a function with his folks, so I'm up for an evening with you!"

  "Pick where you want to go," I suggested.

  "I can’t turn down an offer like that! How about Daily Grill?”

  “Great.” I adjusted the bags with my new clothes for a tighter grip. “I love their burgers and I haven’t been in ages.”

  "Don't fill up too much—you don't have a lot of room in that dress. Of course, he'd love to see you rip a seam!"

  "Well great. You've given me something else to worry about," I said as we walked by Maiden Lane. It was an area of boutiques, jewelry stores, expensive stationery and office chic, salons, and sidewalk cafes. I glanced at the brightly lit store windows filled with Prada, Xanadu, Mont Blanc and Chanel, among other items from top designers and artists. I knew they were too expensive for me, but I hoped someday I’d be able to afford them.

  "I love Maiden Lane, too." Jenise obviously noticed the dreamy look in my eyes.

  Perhaps when I sit in my own chair in some corporate office overlooking the San Francisco skyline, I'll run in on my lunch hour, buy a lovely scarf, wrap it around me, and stride gallantly back to work.

  Over dinner, my sister talked about her goals. Until that evening, I hadn't realized how she’d quietly planned her career without anyone noticing—except Sean.

  “I need this.” She dipped her beer battered cod filet into some malt vinegar. “I have to make it to prove to myself I’ve achieved everything in spite of what happened."

  "Do you mean—"

  "Yes," she affirmed quickly, assuming I meant her attack. She was right. "I need to shout to those fuckers who raped me, you assholes didn’t kill my spirit. After all, living well is the best revenge, right?”

  My sister had emerged from a cocoon. I thought her to be beautiful in every way. It wasn’t only her long, thick, dark hair falling against her fair complexion and striking hazel eyes that drew me in. The determined spirit coming from her heart—the same heart I’d shunned as being weak seven years earlier—had become strong. The brilliance shining from within her was like the northern star.

  “In my opinion? You’ve proven everything already.” I offered all my encouragement, still thinking about my parents overlooking the need to have a heart-to-heart talk with her. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

  “Thanks.” Her smile went cheek to cheek.

  “I never understood your courage until recently.” Overwhelmed with so much love, I could barely contain myself. I reached for her hand and held it. "I’m so sorry I turned away from you. I promise I'll never do that again.”

  “You didn’t know—”

  “I did know. I knew exactly what I was doing," I confessed. "Maybe I didn't understand your trauma completely. I still don’t, really. I was disgusted you didn’t take those boys and their families to court and sue them for everything they had."

  "Did you know they moved away and did jail time?"

  "No. I was always afraid to ask you anything about it." I held my burger firmly between my hands and took a big bite.

  "Yeah, their families moved to another state," she said defiantly. "So who kept their head held high?"

  "You."

  "Damn right."

  We high-fived.

  “Thanks for letting me back in. I promise I'll never let go of you, big sister.”

  "You'd better not."

  "Even though you have every right to get revenge on me for the way I acted."

  “I’ve never held anything against you, Nick. You were only eleven and going through your own shit, but thanks for your promise.”

  “Will you ever tell me what happened?” I tread carefully.

  “Oh, I don't . . .”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I silently kicked myself for stepping over the line.

  “No, that's not it. I don’t have a problem talking about what happened. Those boys were the ones who were disturbed and violent. Why should I be ashamed? The reason I hesitate, it's . . . I don’t want to make you more afraid of sex than you already are. Ask me again after you've completely entered into a physical relationship, okay?”

  “Okay,” I acquiesced. “Thanks for thinking it through like that. Tell me about the school project you're submitting for the City Architecture award.”

  “I’m developing a green community, and . . . wait. Did I tell you about that already? I don't remember.”

  Oops.

  "Well, I heard about it somewhere, so you must have said something." I almost blew it!

  "I guess I did, then." She shrugged her shoulders and her eyes came alive in delight as she described her idea of an apartment complex that was one hundred percent green. "There will be a system of rewards and incentives for the tenants who live there, possibly leading to ownership." Her enthusiasm was obvious and only diminished by the next brilliant detail of what she hoped to create in her working life. “I’m working so hard on it. Sean is helping me, too.” She got teary. "He's giving up his own chance for the internship for me. His parents are pretty well off, but the prestige that comes with it is huge for anyone's career.”

&n
bsp; Sean loves my sister!

  “So, you met Sean at college?” I poked carefully.

  “Yeah!" She finished another bite of her fish filet. "God these are good. How's your sandwich?"

  "Delicious," I mumbled in the middle of another juicy bite.

  "Sean and I sat next to each other at an art history class of all things. We began to see each other in more classes, and well . . . took off from there.” She looked at the ceiling and sighed. "The rest is . . . hopefully our history together."

  “How romantic,” I said dreamily. “College sweethearts.”

  “It is, isn’t it? He’s helping me draft the CC & Rs and a nonprofit legal group is making sure the project is feasible and that I have the language correct.”

  “What are CC & Rs? Yes, I'll have another iced tea, please,” I said to the waitress. "Jenise?"

  "Yes, please." She looked up and smiled and returned to our conversation. "It’s a document that outlines the conditions, covenants, and restrictions of the common areas." She sounded like an attorney. “If I get chosen, I’ll be a shoe-in at City Architecture!”

  I kept quiet and acted as if I didn’t know anything. In some ways, I didn’t—at least not about the details of her project. After she was through talking about her design, she finally opened up about her boyfriend, Sean Taylor.

  “Why haven’t you brought Sean home to meet Mom and Dad?” I dipped a French fry in ketchup.

  “He’s African American,” she said guardedly.

  “Wow, that’s so"—I struggled to find the words—“progressive of you.” Is this her “fuck you” to Dad?

  “Yeah, I’m afraid of how they’ll react because of the gun incident with Dad. What do you think?”

  Our parents had endured their share of bad experiences in the workplace. Whether or not it was real or exaggerated by our parents, the majority of them involved people of color and that jaded their thoughts. Of course, the biggest event was the African American man who had held a gun to Dad's head while at work. We were often reminded of it.

  We both knew Sean wouldn’t be an easy introduction.

  “I want you to meet him. He’s such a gentleman. And smart. Of course handsome," she giggled. "He's got these long eyelashes and his big brown eyes . . . I don't want to jinx it, but I think he’s going to propose. Keep your fingers crossed.”

  “Oh, no!” A rock dropped in my stomach. “I’m losing my sister just as I’m getting to know her again?”

  “Even if he proposes, we won’t get married until after we graduate. Besides, you’ll be living with Ryan by then.”

  “Oh, right. I think not!” I mocked, using an English accent. “I can’t imagine living with anyone—at least not before I graduate. I’m too moody. I would drive me crazy let alone the other person.”

  “Moody or not, he’s going to ask you. Drive yourself crazy. What a nut you are, Nick.”

  “Why would he? He’s away half the time. Doubtful I'd be able to stand his coming and goings from being on the road anyway."

  “Whatever. You’re so in denial about the pull he has on you.”

  “You were saying, about Sean . . .?” I slipped into a daydream and visualized Ryan bringing me coffee, snuggling under the covers, and warming our bodies on a chilly morning.

  “We’ve been seeing each other about five months. It gets better every day. I’ve met his parents and they actually like me, and I like them! Can you believe it?”

  “Why wouldn’t they?" I exclaimed. "You’re a sweetheart!" My sister blushed. I wanted to pinch her pink cheeks. "I’m so happy for you. I—oh yeah! I almost forgot! Ryan wants us all to double date. So hopefully I'll meet Sean soon?”

  “Sure! I’ll give him a heads up. How great is that? We're going on a double date!”

  “Isn't it funny how things twist and turn?” I reflected on the rush of events that seemed to be pushing through my life. I dipped another French fry in ketchup and just as I held it to my mouth, a customer bumped into me.

  "Slob!" She cracked up and wiped the corner of my mouth with a napkin. "Ketchup all over you!"

  I dipped my finger in the tartar sauce on her plate and put some on the tip of her nose.

  "You're dead meat when we get home." She took out her pocket mirror and made sure to wipe it off completely. "Watch your back, sistah."

  "I'll do that." I reached for the check.

  Soon after we got home, my sister went back to her studies, and I went up to my room. I had energy to burn and began a silly task of dividing my closet into “Ryan” and “Other.” I put the new items I'd purchased with the two outfits from LA on the “Ryan” side. Then I cleared a spot in one of my drawers for my cool new leather folio, sunglasses, electronic tablet and beautiful silk scarf.

  I didn't recognize the subtle changes happening inside me.

  Sitting on the beige sofa in front of my bed, my feet on my hope chest, I opened my journal. I wrote two poems and then outlined and described the events of the last few days. For a third time, I reviewed the classes I needed to take at City College. When I finished my checklist, I turned on the TV.

  The Goliaths were in the late innings of their baseball game. Ryan had just come in to pitch. He shut down the three batters he faced and the Goliaths won 3–2. I watched him high-five his teammates and hoped I'd get a shot of his butt. No such luck, I turned off the TV, opened the window, and got ready for bed.

  The fog had rolled into our West Portal neighborhood. I was instantly reminded of Half Moon Bay and pretended it was the same ocean air surrounding me, making everything moist. When my phone rang I just about floated out of bed, loving that I’d get another chance to hear Ryan’s voice before the night ended.

  “I saw you come in the game to pitch,” I purred. “Congratulations on your save.”

  “How’d I do?” He had an easy and light tone in his voice.

  “Who cares?”

  “Meaning?” He sounded confused.

  “Meaning, as a fan of the team, I’m glad you guys won and you got the save. As your girlfriend, you’re pretty damn cute out there. I wanted to jump through the TV and give you a big smooch.”

  “Are you my girlfriend?” His voice wriggled into my belly as if it were his finger stroking sexual places.

  “I think . . . um, I think I am." I just committed to him!

  “You know what I want to do after hearing you say that my sweet girlfriend?”

  “What?” I'm afraid to ask.

  “The lights are out in your house and I quietly walk upstairs after letting myself in with the key you've given me. I get under the covers to snuggle you. Your body easily fits into mine and you tell me about your day. I stroke you with tender caresses. You rub my back. The evening ends with a long kiss before we go off to dreamland. Do you think about us that way?"

  Oh, Ryan—more please.

  "All the time," I answered eagerly and honestly. "I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I’ll sleep like a baby because you called. Did you get tickets to the game for Chris and Frances?"

  "Yep."

  "I'm glad. Everyone get along?"

  "No sibling rivalry bullshit today." He had notes of sadness in his voice. "I wish it could've been that way last night."

  "Think of what we would have missed in Half Moon Bay, though," I reminded. "I think everything worked out exactly how it was meant to be." I heard his long sigh. I thought it might sing me to sleep. "Oh! You know what I did today, Ryan?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I bought . . .” I hesitated a little because I thought it might have been too forward. In the end, I took the chance. “Jenise not only helped me buy a dress for our date tomorrow, but some other stuff, too. Now I won’t embarrass you if we’re at an important event together.”

  “Embarrass me? You’d never embarrass me. Your tenderness alone makes you stunning. May I point out, Ms. Young, you talk a lot about the vision you have of your future, but the way you think of others? Baby, it’s an unbelievable privilege being
with you.”

  “Thank you.” I felt appreciated in a way that I'd never before experienced. I wonder if Jerry feels this way about me.

  “Chris and Frances are in the parking lot. I’d better go, love.”

  “What did you guys do today?” Don't go yet.

  “I took them shopping and we had a nice lunch at the Inverness Inn. Frances wanted some new clothes. I needed some things, too.”

  “Sounds fun,” I said. “Guess we were both shopping. So everything is okay with you and Chris?”

  “As much as we can be okay."

  "Like it or not, we're stuck with family, huh?"

  "You hit the nail on the head. Baby, I miss you so much.”

  “That's why I want to talk another few seconds. I'm having so much trouble hanging up. It's like I want to sing you a lullaby, Ryan. What’s happening to me?”

  His sexy laugh went straight to my inner thighs.

  “Let's pretend we're still at the bed and breakfast," his words dripped with sensual flavors.

  "How? I can't even touch you." His request was enchanting. I tried hard to immerse myself in his vision.

  "Close your eyes."

  Seconds passed.

  "Are they closed?" he asked fervently.

  "Yes."

  "We've just turned out the lights. You shake your head and your hair bounces at the top of your gorgeous behind." He took a deep breath. "In the moonlight I can see your beautiful smile. The way you've let your guard down—it's like the warmth of desert rain. Can you feel me, Nicky?" Another deep breath. "Can you understand how much I want to touch you?"

  "Yes."

  "The way you talk one hundred miles per hour, explaining all your observations about life, your day, me . . . I miss that. I hope tomorrow's game goes by like the speed of light and it will seem like we've only been apart a few minutes. Goodnight—until tomorrow, goodnight.”

  “Now that I have no breath, goodnight, Ryan.” I said the words as sweetly as I could and went to bed with dreams of him lying next to me.

  Chapter 29

  I’ve Got Plans