Body By Night

by Day, Zuri

  “I’m washing your feet so I can give you a foot massage.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

  “And didn’t you hear me? I’m taking care of you for a minute. You know how bossy I am. Shut up and take it, woman!”

  He took one of the bottles of water and, pouring it over D’Andra’s feet, washed off the sand. Then he sat down and placed her foot in his lap. Placing a small dab of the sunblock in his hand, he began to gently yet firmly massage D’Andra’s feet. As he pressed and kneaded certain parts of her foot, he explained what organs were affected by each location.

  “This area,” he said softly, as he massaged the fleshy area beneath her toes, “corresponds with your lungs. So this,” he pressed, kneaded, and massaged in a circular fashion, “helps the air flow through the lungs better.”

  He kneaded the outer part of her right foot. “This area corresponds to the liver and this”—he switched to the left foot and massaged the middle of her foot with his thumb—“works on your kidneys.”

  “Hum,” D’Andra said, feeling blissfully indulged. Night’s foot massage was affecting her whole body, including one particularly sensitive area probably not represented on her foot but getting wetter by the minute.

  Night gave rapt attention to each area of her feet. He loved the feel of D’Andra’s skin, its softness and suppleness. As he massaged each toe, and in turn stimulated the places each one represented: head, eye, pituitary gland, etc., he thought about other areas of D’Andra’s body he’d like to massage, and decided he would love to touch her all over. He shifted before his suddenly hard member made its presence known to D’Andra’s foot. Placing his palms against them, he kneaded her heels, the last part of her foot to get attention.

  The action sent a shiver up D’Andra’s butt; so much so that she giggled.

  “Ooh, Night,” she whispered. “What part does the heel go with?”

  Night smiled, knowing what had just happened because he’d done it on purpose. He squeezed a couple more times, knowing this action was taking the place of his massaging the real thing.

  “Night?” D’Andra prompted again to mask her growing ardor.

  Night took his hand away and calmly wiped it on a towel. “Your ass,” he said in a professional, matter-of-fact tone, similar to the one D’Andra had used when tending Tonia’s foot.

  D’Andra’s hazel eyes flew open to meet deep, chocolate brown ones.

  “My what?”

  “Uh-huh, you heard me, and you felt it.” He licked his lips unconsciously and D’Andra thought she’d have an orgasm. She jumped up from the beach chair.

  “It’s time to get the kids.”

  Night turned and watched the topic of their conversation bounce seductively with D’Andra’s stride. His shaft twitched its agreement to his approving stare. He took another swallow of water, trying to cool down. “Uh-huh,” he said again.

  10

  D’Andra finally stopped lying to herself. She had developed feelings for Night. He made her feel so good at the beach, so special, so cared for, that she didn’t get too upset upon once again seeing a pile of dishes when she returned home. According to Mary, Cassandra’s intended good deed had been usurped by an unexpected visit from Anthony, her pro baseball player boyfriend. Trying to wrap him around her finger certainly topped being a woman of her word, D’Andra had deduced as she stacked dishes with hardened syrup and pancake remains into soapy water. And Mary? Mary hadn’t cleaned house ever since she birthed two maids to do it for her.

  D’Andra’s sleep was fitful Sunday evening and later that Monday, as she ran errands before reporting to work, her thoughts were still of Night. She was torn in her emotions regarding him, afraid both of what would happen when the workouts were over and he left her life, and what might happen if he stayed. One thing she couldn’t deny, his workouts worked. She’d finally remembered to step on the scale this morning and to her surprise and delight she had indeed lost ten pounds.

  Another night of hell at Heavenly Haven, D’Andra thought as she eyed the stack of new admissions. The workplace was still in turmoil and the staff was stretched thin. One nurse had been replaced but two more had left.

  “Miss Daisy’s in rare form tonight,” Elaine said as she came around to the nurse’s station. “Don’t say you weren’t forewarned.”

  D’Andra laughed at Elaine’s use of her nickname for Frieda.

  “I think I can handle her,” she answered. “I’ll just threaten her by saying I’ll stop Bryan from coming by. You know she’s got a thing for the PT.”

  “Who doesn’t? He could give Brad Pitt competition and that’s not an easy thing. He’s hot.”

  “And gay.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes, way. Can’t you tell?”

  “No, and you can’t either.”

  “Well, maybe not. But his nails are manicured and his hair looks better than mine. Plus he’s always talking about his best friend, Wade.”

  “So what? Oprah’s always talking about her best friend, Gayle, and she’s not gay.”

  D’Andra fixed Elaine with a look. “She has Stedman; who does boyfriend have?”

  “He can have me if he likes kids. Max will just have to get over it.”

  “Girl, please; Max knows he doesn’t have a thing to worry about. They’ll be prying wood from under your fingernails after he dies; that’s how hard you’ll be holding on to his casket before they pull you away!”

  “That’s morbid. You have no sense.”

  “You neither; that’s why we get along.”

  D’Andra hesitated, wondering if she should admit to Elaine what she’d only today admitted to herself. But she had to talk to someone and her current options were limited.

  She continued to key information into the computer as she strived for a casual tone. “I ran into Night this weekend—twice.”

  Elaine was immediately all ears. “Do tell!”

  “Well, Saturday night I saw him at the gym. Then I took the kids to the beach yesterday and he was there with his cousin and some other kids.”

  “Interesting,” Elaine said, implying several messages in the singular response.

  “Why do you say it like that?”

  “How many beaches are there in the LA area and what are the chances you’d be at the same one, at the same time, if fate wasn’t working her magic.”

  “Oh please, it was just coincidence.”

  “Whatever it was, I think you should go for it. You know you like him. How long are you going to let a jerk named Charles ruin your happiness? You deserve a good man, D’Andra, and you know that’s what you want. It wouldn’t hurt to let your guard down a little bit, see if there’s any fire where that smoke is.”

  “Easy for you to say; it didn’t happen to you.”

  “I know, kiddo,” Elaine said, releasing an understanding sigh. “But what did you tell me Night said to you the other day? No pain, no gain? That advice may apply to your heart as well as your hips. He sounds like a keeper, girl. You’d best get to keepin’ before somebody else finds him and leaves you weepin’.”

  “If that’s your attempt at poetry, don’t quit your day job, Elaine.”

  “And don’t you try and change the subject. If he is indeed unattached as you believe, he won’t stay that way for long. If you want something to happen, you just may need to be the one who gets the ball rolling.”

  “I could care less if he’s seeing someone.”

  “Yeah, try that lie on Miss Daisy, not someone who knows you as well as I do.”

  With that, Elaine sashayed into the chart room while D’Andra walked down the hall to begin her rounds.

  As soon as she turned the corner, she found Elaine had been right.

  “Grace!” Mrs. Miller yelled in her shrill, high-pitched voice. “Grace, come here!”

  “Right away, Miss Daisy,” D’Andra responded. Finally, she thought. If only for a moment, here was someone to get her mind off Night.

  11
>
  She stood at the door a moment before ringing the bell, calming her usual pre-meeting jitters. She’d only seen him two days ago, had seen him regularly—Tuesdays and Thursdays at four P.M. sharp—for more than a month. D’Andra knew that continuing to react this way at the prospect of seeing him was silly. However, this would be the first time she’d seen him in the light of truth, the truth that she was falling in love with him.

  The door opened unexpectedly. “Are you going to stand there all day or come inside?”

  Night’s forceful question hid his nervousness. He’d thought of D’Andra the rest of Sunday and all day Monday and today: her soft skin, health-oriented goals, the kindness she displayed at entertaining her nieces and nephew and skill she showed when attending Tonia’s bite. In her were all the things he wanted, if he were looking for someone, which he wasn’t. Right now he needed to focus. He was close to seeing his dream realized and Jazz had shown him better than anyone how easily one could get distracted.

  “I’ve got good news,” D’Andra said as they sat stretching before the workout. “I’ve lost ten pounds.”

  “How is that news? I told you that Sunday that you’d lost weight.”

  “That was your guess. I confirmed it by weighing myself.”

  “If I tell you a chicken chews tobacco, look under its left wing.”

  “What in the world does that mean?”

  “It means if I say something, it’s gospel. I could tell by looking at you that you’d lost.”

  “And so the part of my weight loss story where the tobacco chewing chicken comes in is…where?”

  “An old Southern saying, don’t try and figure it out. At any rate, I’m proud of you. In fact, this news calls for a celebration. What do you say I put together a little something; a light dinner to follow our work-out. You game?”

  “I don’t know; can you cook?”

  It was Night’s turn to harrumph. “Please, is the sky blue, does a bird fly? I can hang with the best of them.”

  “We’ll see; ’cause you’re looking at one of the best.”

  “What, you want to do a little Iron Chef cook-off? Or would it be more like a Throwdown?”

  “Oh my God, you watch the Food Network.”

  Night looked embarrassed. “My secret’s out. But I have an excuse. That was my first job; busing tables and then helping Uncle Robert in the kitchen at Jewel’s. I did that for almost six years, until I left for college.”

  “So your Aunt Jewel owned a restaurant?”

  Night nodded. “But I enjoyed her cooking skills long before that. Our family relocated to L.A. when I was ten years old. Aunt Jewel and Uncle Robert had already lived there five years by then, and had talked about owning their own business from the time we arrived. They realized their dream a few years later and I worked for them until I left for college.”

  “Then I guess since you’ve spouted your cooking credentials, you’re on!”

  Night’s voice dropped as he continued. “Under one condition.”

  D’Andra’s heart sped up as she awaited the answer. “What?” she breathed.

  “It has to be low-cal, low-sodium, low-cholesterol, and delicious.”

  D’Andra smiled. Little did her trainer know that those were exactly the types of meals she’d been fixing for over a month. This is going to be fun, she thought.

  But there was work before pleasure. Night seemed especially focused tonight, paying attention, at least in D’Andra’s opinion, to every muscle in her body. Sculpting, he called it. Well, she had another name: torture.

  “Look, Night. I’m not trying to have Janet’s abs.”

  “That’s not what I’m going for. But this right here,” he said, placing a large hand lightly on her midsection, is your core. If it’s strong, the rest of your body is going to line up. In about five months, you’ll thank me, trust me.”

  “Five months! I’m not trying to wait that long to see results.”

  “Unless you’re blind, you’re already seeing them.” He looked at her appreciatively. “I know I am.”

  D’Andra thought about what Elaine said and stuck a toe in amorous waters. “Would that be a flirt, Mr., what is your last name anyway?”

  “Didn’t you know? I’m a one-name wonder, like Tiger, Kobe, Diddy…”

  “You mean Tiger Woods, Kobe Bryant, and Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs?”

  D’Andra’s quick wit turned Night on as much as her thick thighs. “Simmons. JaJuan ‘Night’ Simmons.”

  “I love your first name…JaJuan. Does anyone call you that?”

  “My mom, when I’m in trouble. But never mind that. You’re just trying to distract me from the task at hand—tightening that butt. Get up.”

  He helped D’Andra to her feet and led her to the other side of his basement’s home gym.

  “Now as you push the roller back, away from you, I want you to control this muscle, control this here.”

  Night lightly squeezed the area just below D’Andra’s buttocks. He did so clinically, detached, as a doctor might.

  “This is the muscle we’re working on and along with the squats, we’ll end up with a firm contour on what is already a nicely shaped frame.”

  D’Andra looked to see if there was any teasing in Night’s eyes. His face was neutral, business-like.

  She decided to interact with him in the same way. “How many of these do you want me to do?” she asked, bending over the cushion on the Glute Blaster, a vertical leg press machine, and placing her foot under the metal lift as Night had instructed. She grabbed the handles and wiggled her butt to get more comfortable as well as to push Night’s buttons.

  “Let’s start with ten,” Night said, forcing down his libido. For a man who saw upturned butts for a living, he was a bit disconcerted that this one could turn him on so forcefully. Granted it was a fabulously round mound on a beautiful woman, but she was his client. This was his job.

  His voice was harsher than intended as he worked to refocus his thoughts. “Push, higher! No, keep your movement controlled. Concentrate D’Andra. Focus on the muscle you’re trying to work. If you don’t do these ten properly, we’re going to do ten more, plus the other two sets. Now, do it right!”

  Turning from Gigolo JaJuan to Sergeant Simmons got them through the workout.

  D’Andra felt self-conscious as she entered the kitchen in Night’s oversized shirt and baggie shorts. Secretly, she was happy to be in his clothes, and to know that they were loose on her. She surreptitiously admired his sculpted legs and back in his loose-fitting shorts and tank top as he stirred a delicious-smelling concoction at the stove.

  “I like your bathroom décor,” she said by way of greeting. “Thanks for suggesting the shower; it was a good idea.”

  “Didn’t think I’d want your funky butt in my kitchen, did you doll?”

  D’Andra swatted him even as she laughed. “Forget you!”

  Night smiled. This is what he loved about their friendship, the easy camaraderie he’d never experienced with Jazz, or anyone else.

  Their conversation was easy as D’Andra made herself at home in Night’s well-stocked kitchen. It was obvious he cooked and by the look at the spices and other ingredients that stocked his shelves, he knew what he was doing. For his contribution, Night had tackled the main course, a baked herb fish he’d perfected with a zesty blend of parsley, chives and rosemary topped with a lemon-yogurt sauce. D’Andra worked on the perfect complement: a vegetable stir-fry of lightly breaded zucchini, yellow squash, eggplant and fresh tomatoes tying into the fish dish by using some of the same spices Night had used along with a curry spice she’d found in his spice rack designed to, as her favorite chef Emeril would say, kick it up a notch. The concoction that had tempted her taste buds was a clear consómmé soup for their first course.

  “Wow, candles and everything,” she exclaimed, when coming around the corner she noticed Night lighting the tapers on the dining room table. “I’m impressed.”

  “This is a celebration,
isn’t it?” Night asked, his eyes sultry upon her.

  “If you say so,” she answered. She could feel herself go warm and was thankful that in the subdued lighting her blush wouldn’t show.

  Night went into the kitchen and came out with a light sauvignon blanc. “Just a glassful for each of us to celebrate your victory,” he explained. “Normally I try and stay away from what I call empty calories, but your workout tonight deserves a reward.”

  Both were quiet as they reflected on what shape, no pun intended, the reward could take on.

  “To an amazing personal trainer,” D’Andra said, when they lifted their glasses for the toast.

  “To an amazing woman,” Night responded.

  They stared at each other, mesmerized as they sipped the delicious vintage. D’Andra didn’t know whether it was the wine or Night’s presence that made her dizzy. She tried to fight the thoughts even as they scrambled for a spot in her conscience. Night was kind and thoughtful…and fine. He was smart and goal-oriented and on top of that, the man could cook. For the second time in as many days she admitted the inevitable: she was falling in love.

  “Are you seeing somebody?” Her mouth blurted out the question before her mind had a chance to censor it.

  Her blunt inquiry caught Night by surprise and made him feel good at the same time. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with an interest beyond the weight room. An interest he was still in the process of denying, even as he answered.

  “Not anymore.”

  “But you were? How recent?”

  “Several months ago.”

  “Was it serious? I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Night said smiling, “but I don’t mind talking about it.” He took another bite of the vegetables before continuing. “This is delicious.”

  “Thank you; so is the fish.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anyway, I found out that it’s going to take a very special woman to be beside me in this business. It’s my job to be around women, some of them quite attractive, 24/7. Along with the intimacy of ongoing physical closeness comes an added attraction that women feel by being helped. I’m dealing with something very personal to them—their bodies. It takes someone trusting, secure in her own skin and in the strength of our relationship to be able to deal with that. Jazz couldn’t, so she left.”