Forever Love (Arabesque)

by Norfleet, Celeste O.

  “I’ve seen you.”

  “Really? When?”

  “A few times, late at night. Same booth—working or on the phone.”

  “You should have come over.”

  “Not my style.”

  “I guess I have to pay better attention.”

  “I guess so. We’re running these ladies ragged.”

  “Trust me. They’re having as much fun as we are.”

  “Still.”

  “Fine, then join me or I’ll join you. We can make this work.”

  Gladys returned with the note. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded and wrote a one-word reply. “Yes.” He placed the note in the spot. Gladys took it, then returned the note a few seconds later. Keith looked up at her, questioning.

  “She’s gone,” Gladys said. “She asked me to give this to you after she left.”

  Keith turned around to see the empty counter space, then glanced around, seeing only a few people in the diner. Gia was no longer there. He looked out the window. Her car was pulling off. He looked at the note and saw the last message she’d sent him. “As much as I may be tempted, I can’t do this. Maybe another time.”

  “Yes, definitely,” he said aloud as he tucked the note in his jacket pocket.

  “Can I get you anything else?” Gladys asked, tearing his check off her pad.

  “No, I’m done,” Keith said. “Thanks, Gladys, and please thank Lois, as well.” He wiped his mouth needlessly, paid the check and then placed two one-hundred-dollar bills for Gladys’s and Lois’s tip on the table where the notes had been.

  He left the diner, driving in silence. For the first time in a long while he didn’t want to go back to the office. But he went anyway. He opened the door and headed to his desk. Kate had left two overnight express packages and a note from Megan. Neither needed his attention this evening. He sat, opened his laptop and pulled up the file he’d been working on. Two hours later he stopped. His mind was no longer in this. He saved his file, closed the laptop and got up to leave. As soon as he turned the office lights off, his phone rang.

  * * *

  Gia dragged her finger across the tiny inset pad, highlighting everything she’d just written. Seeing the massive section made her cringe. In the last hour and a half she had rewritten, edited and corrected this passage fifteen times. She shook her head, bit at her lower lip and then pressed the delete key. In the blink of an eye, everything vanished.

  She sighed heavily and shook her head again. She’d just wasted almost two hours writing what sounded more like country and western lyrics than a serious business proposal requesting financial and political support. She closed her laptop and then set it aside. It was useless. She wasn’t getting anything done this evening. She was too distracted.

  At first she told herself it was her grandmother’s health, but she knew her grandmother would be fine in time. Then she convinced herself that it was the OCC. But she knew that wasn’t true. She knew exactly what was distracting her, or rather who was distracting her—Keith Washington.

  As if to clear her thoughts, she stood up, walked to the window and looked out. Living on the top floor in a high-rise condominium right off Delaware Avenue on Penn’s Landing afforded her a spectacular view. To the left were the glittering shining lights of the Ben Franklin Bridge. She looked across the Delaware River to the sparkling lights of Camden, New Jersey. At night the dazzling landscape was breathtaking. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  Right now this was what money afforded her—the lavishness of her home. She was born into the lifestyle, and that would never change. Her family’s wealth dated back five generations. It had started in the back of her great-great grandmother’s laundry. The simple card games grew into the hottest nightspot in the early 1920s. By the time prohibition became law, the Duncan family added loan-sharking and bootlegging. Just like many of the megawealthy families now, the Duncans’ history began steeped in the underbelly of crime, illegal speakeasies and back-alley liquor dens. They realized early that there was money to be made, and they made a lot of it.

  They took advantage of weaknesses. If customers couldn’t pay their debts, they signed over their homes. Soon the Duncans owned property all over the city. By the time the prohibition laws had been repealed, her family was mind-staggeringly rich.

  Today the Duncans were a respected family in the City of Brotherly Love. They were law-abiding, mostly, and had prominence and power as the city’s premier real estate developers. Her grandfather was a legend, and her father was living up to it by creating his own legacy. But that’s where it ended.

  When she turned her back on it all, they were shocked and blamed her nonconformist mother for corrupting her family responsibilities. Her father was furious. Her grandmother collapsed and her grandfather was enraged. He disowned her on the spot. But she refused to change her mind. She just hoped they would learn to accept her life as she wanted to live it.

  Gia closed the drapes and turned around, knowing it was never going to be that easy. She walked back to the desk and looked down at her laptop. There was no way she was going to try to work. She grabbed her purse and pulled out a business card. She read it—Keith Washington, Attorney at Law. She grabbed her cell phone and went into her bedroom.

  She climbed into bed and rested her head back against the pillows and looked around her spacious bedroom. Stylishly decorated and accented with just the right number of antiques, it was an interior designer’s dream. From the outside, her life looked nearly perfect. She had a job she enjoyed, family and friends she loved, but still she knew there was something missing. But she didn’t have time to think about all that right now.

  She needed to get rid of this distraction so that she could focus on work again. She glanced at the bedside clock. It was late—perfect. She grabbed the phone and business card from the nightstand and started dialing. Calling and leaving him a message at his office was a great idea. That way she didn’t have to actually talk to him. She nodded. It was the coward’s way out, but that was okay. She didn’t mind being a coward right now.

  She knew there was no way he’d be in the office this late at night. She smiled, knowing exactly what she was going to say on his voice mail. The phone rang twice, then stopped. Someone answered, “Yes.”

  Gia froze. “Hello,” he said. “All right, I know you’re there. You might as well answer since I have caller ID and already know the phone number calling.”

  She knew he was bluffing. There was no way her phone showed anything other than two words, “private caller,” as a display. “Hello,” she said timidly, “Keith?”

  “Yes, Gia?” he said cautiously.

  “Yes,” she said, “what are you doing there this late? You’re not supposed to be in the office,” she said accusingly.

  “I’m answering the phone. But I believe the question is, why are you calling me this late?”

  “Sorry, you took me off guard. I didn’t expect you to be there.”

  “But yet you called. Who did you expect would answer?” he asked.

  “Actually, I expected to just leave a voice message.”

  “Sounds like the coward’s way out,” he joked.

  “I prefer to think it was being efficient. Leaving a message tonight is one less thing I have to do tomorrow,” she responded.

  His deep throaty chuckle seeped through her quickly. She knew he didn’t really believe her, but she also knew that it didn’t really matter. “Well, Ms. Duncan, now that you have me, what can I do for you?”

  She took a deep breath. “I wanted to call and thank you for tonight. It was very considerate of you to be concerned about me. But I need you to know that this doesn’t negate anything between the OCC and the mayor’s office.”

  “Of course it doesn’t,” he said, knowing the OCC’s endorsement was all but his.r />
  “The OCC is still going to hold the mayor accountable for his actions, or in some cases inaction.”

  “The mayor stands by his record,” Keith insisted. She didn’t reply. There was a moment of silence, and then he continued softly. “You know, you’re not nearly as cynical as you pretend to be.”

  “You don’t know that. I just might be,” she declared.

  “True, but I doubt it.”

  “And you’re not as charming as you think you are,” she said.

  “Of course I am. At least you think I am.”

  She laughed. “You are shameful and you really don’t know me.”

  “You’d be surprised what I know.”

  “I told you earlier not to underestimate me, Keith. I suggest you take me at my word. I will do my job.”

  “Of that I’d expect nothing less, since I will, too.”

  “Good,” she said, “then we understand each other.”

  “Yes, we do.” There was another slight pause. “I’m beginning to like this between us. I look forward to our next meeting. Perhaps there is hope for us after all.”

  “Good night, Mr. Washington.”

  “Good night, Ms. Duncan.”

  Gia ended the call and just sat there in her bed holding the phone in her hand. She had no idea what to make of what had just happened. After a while she reached over and placed her phone on its charging pad, then turned the light out and lay back, closing her eyes. She shook her head and smiled. The man was arrogant, exasperating, incorrigible and too damn sexy for her own good. And he was right about one thing—she did find him charming. Her last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were of Keith Washington, and images of her day appeared.

  She was back at the community center surrounded by the town hall audience again. Like before, Keith was right behind her. But this time he was much closer. She could feel the singeing heat of his hot breath on her neck as he spoke. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but whatever it was she was nodding in agreement. Then she felt his large hands come up around her waist and pull her possessively back, closer to his body. She inched forward, but he held her tightly, soothing her body to relax with his words.

  She looked around cautiously, but no one paid them any attention. His mouth came closer as he whispered to her again. She nodded. Then he kissed her earlobe and went lower with tiny nibbles down to her neck. Her heart pounded for more. He pressed her back closer, sealing their connection. Her legs shook and her hands trembled. Someone would see them and she’d be humiliated. But he felt too good and she couldn’t stop this even if she wanted to. He slowly released the buttons on her silk shirt, exposing her bra to the room.

  She opened her eyes, startled, but everyone still faced forward. He released the front clasp. The full heaviness of her breasts parted the lace material. His hands came up to caress and cup her breasts. She gasped as he fondled and rolled each nipple between his finger and thumb. The tender nipples hardened to cut diamonds.

  His mouth came down to her neck again. She rolled her head back, gasping for whatever air was still left in the room. She heard her own throaty moan as her body’s moisture flowed between her legs. She turned her head to the side. The kiss came in a burst of light, exploding in her mouth. It deepened steadily beyond anything she had ever felt. The intensity shot down her body to buckle her knees and curl her toes. Ravenous kisses, lustful licking and sensual suckling rocked her to the core. She shivered with surging excitement as her body melted against his.

  His hands continued touching, caressing and torturing her body. She felt his hard erection press against her back. The steel of his penis excited her. “This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream,” she murmured, repeating over and over again, knowing that whatever she did and however she did it wasn’t real and because of that she could make him do whatever she wanted.

  She thought about his hand between her legs, and without saying a word he wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her secure while his other hand went down. She smiled, giddy with the pleasure of her power and the rapture of this burning hunger. He touched her there, brushing his fingers first against the scant curls, then her inner thigh and finally her tiny nub. Already fully engorged, the nub throbbed and ached for more. “Touch me,” she whispered.

  He did. Over and over again, he toyed and tantalized. Her breathing stopped, then came again in halted gasps as her body shook to his slow, steady strokes. Her knees buckled and her legs began to wobble. “More.” He thrust one finger inside her. Her muscles contracted instantly. “More.” He pressed two fingers in. She fell back, but he was there to catch her. The next word never crossed her lips, but the thought was still there. He gave her more. She moved frantically to the thrusting fierceness of his fingers and hands.

  Throbbing, stroking, pulsating faster and faster. With his fingers inside and his thumb torturing her, she was going to implode. She rocked her hips and he pressed deeper and deeper, ravaging her to insanity. Then she came in a muffled shriek as orgasmic shock waves shot through her over and over again. Her body shuddered and quivered as the last few quakes of passion released. Then, in an instant, he faded; everything faded as sleep took her once again.

  Chapter 7

  Thankfully their next meeting at the mayor’s Initiative Conference was very business-oriented and very public. After the dream she’d had the night before, there was no way she could handle being alone with Keith. But being in a room with three dozen civic and business leaders and a good number of community actions groups, she felt safe.

  But if Keith had been really looking forward to their next meeting as he’d said, he didn’t show it. He had to know OCC was on the invited list and that she’d show up. As soon as she walked in, she paused, seeing him instantly. Dark suit and tie with striped shirt and glasses. She smiled. Any other man might have looked like a nerd, but he pulled the classic look off perfectly.

  She walked in with another woman, Donna Mathers, a local intimate-apparel boutique owner. This was her first time attending the conference, as well. In spiked heels and a body-fitted animal-print dress cut down to expose her full breasts, she looked more like she was going out clubbing on a Saturday night than to a business conference, but she seemed nice enough. She was older, around fifty, but gave the appearance of being much younger. They introduced themselves, traded business cards and information, then decided to partner up for the day. Gia knew the community service people, and Donna knew some of the business leaders. Neither of them admitted to knowing the politicians well.

  They hung together as promised for the first fifteen minutes of the meet-and-greet, and then Donna saw someone she knew and quickly excused herself. Gia watched her go, as did a number of men standing around. She walked away slowly, exaggerating the sway of her hips, knowing the men would be watching. Gia shook her head. It always amazed her that some women needed to perform for attention.

  “Hello, Gia.”

  She’d know that deep, sexy voice anywhere. She turned and smiled politely. “Keith, hello, how are you?”

  “I’m doing great, you?”

  “Good, real good.”

  “So, I see you weren’t too busy to attend this year.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Bill usually attends with your apologies. I’m glad you took the interest and came this time.”

  She nodded, knowing that this was the first time she’d ever seen an invitation cross her desk. Bill usually handled the mail, but since he’d been so busy with local fundraising, she’d been handling it. “Yes, I am, too. It’s a pleasure being here. I’m looking forward to a very informative afternoon.”

  “And, of course, seeing me again,” Keith half joked.

  “Oh, yes, of course, seeing you again,” she said, playing along.

  They smiled with more behind their eyes than any
casual onlooker would imagine. “I’m glad to see your sense of humor has improved.”

  “It comes and goes,” she joked.

  “I want to talk to you about something,” he said, grasping her elbow and moving her to the side. “The mayor’s office has commissioned a new panel to help bring the political office closer to the people represented. It’s a nonprofit panel representing local business leaders, city officials and interest groups. It’s called the Bridge, and its main objective is to literally bridge the gap between the office of the mayor and the needs of the people.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of it.”

  “Good. I’m representing the mayor’s office in officially inviting you to participate on the panel.”

  “I’m honored, but that would be impossible. That’s a full-time position.”

  He nodded. “Yes, it is, and since it’s generally what your organization is supposed to do anyway, I hoped—”

  “Supposed to do?” she questioned quickly.

  “Bad choice of wording. Would you be interested?”

  She frowned. “I can’t see how that would work. Now with OCC I’m beholden to no one except my conscience and the people who need our voice.”

  Keith looked away, frowning. “I get the feeling from your disapproving expression that you don’t buy it. You want change, but you’re not willing to be a part of the solution, only to complain about the problems and deny the results. The mayor is very responsive to the people. Are you?”

  “I wouldn’t be so overly proud of that if I were you. The mayor has a record that’s filled with flaws, holes and empty promises,” she quickly added, softening her voice, as well.

  “A record that has also seen new citywide health and safety initiatives implemented and a cost-of-living increase for teacher, police and firefighter salaries. A record that’s lowered the crime rate and begun cleaning up the city streets, and a record, I might add, that has been impeded, stalled and blocked on all fronts by the city council and still he has succeeded.”