by Lisa Sumil
Moonlight
Part 2
A Melanie King Affair 4 Part Mini-Series
By, Lisa Sumil
An Accidental Writer Novel
© 2013 Half-Light Publishing
All Rights Reserved
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Dedicated to my awesome girlfriends who proved that giggles and talking about sex is never too immature.
3
Zach raised his eyebrows at my chiming cell phone.
“Probably just Charles.” I fumbled with my phone and quickly glanced at it, seeing the text from my boss.
Take the rest of the day off - enjoy yourself
I sighed
“Everything okay?”
I jumped at Zach’s question.
“You’re awfully jumpy, you okay?”
I just nodded, flustered with the series of events. “I have the rest of the day off.”
“Even better,” Zach said. “Let’s grab some lunch before we pick Lilian up.”
I sat in the passenger seat of Zach’s Mercedes, feeling like a stranger. I couldn’t remember the last time I was in his car.
“You’re deep in thought,” Zach remarked.
“Have I ever been in your car before?”
He turned to me abruptly. “What? You’re kidding, right?”
I just stared at him – searching the depths of my mind and watched him do the same. I saw the realization dawn on him.
“You’ve never been in my car before.” It was a statement.
I shook my head. Had we become that distant that I never even sat in his car? “When did you buy this?” I couldn’t even remember when he purchased the car.
“Just before Thanksgiving.”
“So you bought a new Mercedes ten months ago and I’ve never even sat in it.” I took a deep breath.
“Well, you’re not really a car person. You just never took an interest.”
I tilted my head at him. Did he really believe that? Was he just brushing things off that easily? Part of me wanted to ask him and the other part, the bigger part, hesitated. Was I ready to have this conversation? I watched the passing scenery mindlessly as Zach pulled away from the curb. I glanced at him, only seeing the neutral expression on his face. I fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of my shirt as my mind reeled back to the memories of when I first began to fall for Warren.
…
The paper threw a party for their employees celebrating their most recent media acquisition – taking Innis Communications to the number three spot in largest media outlets in the world. The event was held at the esteemed Waldorf-Astoria in New York City. 800 people filled the Grand Ballroom in their tuxedos and gowns. Zach couldn’t make the trip because he had an important deposition he couldn’t miss, all in his nine year quest to become the youngest partner at his firm. Something he still worked endless hours to achieve.
Violet and ice blue lights dazzled the three-story ballroom, dancing over the dozens of balconies that covered three walls, leaving the larger than life stage against the fourth. It was difficult not to get swept up in the hoopla of celebrating. It was intoxicating.
I remember getting dressed in my room that night at the Hilton three blocks from the gala. I spent a small fortune on my French couture dress which made my wedding dress frail in comparison.
Layers of black pleated chiffon trailed behind me blending into the ivory chiffon bodice that hugged my hips before twisting up around my chest. I let my hair fall in soft waves around my face, only placing a small pin on one side. I felt like a Hollywood Starlet on the red carpet and the magic had only begun.
When I walked into the ballroom a fifteen foot media reel shaped ice sculpture poured out champagne from the sides. I looked around at the faces around me as I helped myself to champagne. The intoxication was clear across the room. Everyone had genuine smiles on their faces as they celebrated in a way people no longer got to celebrate — at least those of us who weren’t rich and famous.
“Melanie!”
I spun around to see my boss beaming and clearly already a few glass of champagne into the night.
“The wheel is over in that corner there,” he said as he pointed to a corner near the far side of the dance floor. “We have six tables. Take whatever seat is open.”
I nodded as I made my way over to the table and that’s when I spotted him. His eyes bore into me and couldn’t help but make eye contact with Warren Brown. It was the second time I had seen him in my entire life. The first being when I managed to take up a thank you note and bottle of wine two years prior for helping me land the job at World Geography. His eyes sparkled with delight and mischief even then.
He nodded ever so slightly at me. The movement was so subtle I felt I almost imagined it. Before I could register anything my coworker, Anita, was looping her arms through mine and dragging me to our table.
“Isn’t this amazing?!” She exclaimed.
“I can’t believe we were invited.”
“Believe it!” Anita bobbed and bounced her way to our table to the beat of the orchestra. “Think I’ll find any good looking executives here tonight?”
“Are you already drunk?” I looked at her eyes for the first time.
“No, silly. Just happy!”
I was beginning to think they pumped happy fumes into the air. When I got our table everyone was bustling with energy and excitement. The orchestra played an upbeat swing song and heads and bodies bounced and swayed in the 3600 square foot ballroom.
By the fourth course I needed some air. I had all but forgotten about Warren Brown until I ran into him just at the entry of the ballroom.
“Going somewhere so soon Melanie?”
“Mr. Brown,” I said as my heart raced. Was I in trouble?
“Don’t look so nervous, it was just a curious questions and please, call me Warren.”
I nodded. “I just needed some fresh air.”
“It’s New York City.” He smiled with his entire face as he spoke. “I think we’d have to fly home to get some fresh air.”
I laughed and his smile grew bigger. “Yes, that’s probably true.”
“Come, I know somewhere you can get some fresh air.”
He lifted his arm to me as I hooked my hand in the crook of his elbow. I could smell the aftershave and mix of soap on him as he escorted me toward the elevator.
“No Zach tonight?” he asked.
“No, he had a deposition.” Warren just nodded his understanding. “Where are we going?”
“To the roof.”
“The roof?”
“You’ll see.”
And I did. “Wow!” I exclaimed as we stepped out onto what seemed like a makeshift garden on the roof. “Are we allowed up here?”
A young man in a white
chef’s coat nodded at Warren as he stepped around us. “Mr. Brown.”
“Good to see you again Mitch.”
I couldn’t help but look up at Warren curiously. “You’re a charming one, aren’t you?”
He laughed and the sound filled my ears with joy. “I just like to make friends.”
We stepped around the raised boxes of growing vegetables towards the ledge. “They grow their own fruits and vegetables here. I felt claustrophobic when I first came to New York City and asked the front desk where I could get some fresh air,” Warren explained as walked down the last row of vegetables. “This is where they pointed me to.”
“I can see why.” I looked around at the breathtaking view. “This is incredible,” I said breathlessly.
I had been to New York before, but I had never seen it like this. Park Avenue, Central Park, the hundreds of glittering sky scrapers were all within grasp from where we stood. I let go of Warren’s arm and stepped towards the ledge, resting my hands on the stone wall as I looked out. The wind blew around us and the faint sounds of the city carried to the rooftop.
“Do you have your phone?” Warren asked.
I turned back to face him. He stood a part from me, away from the ledge. I shook my head. “Why do you ask?”
“I was going to take a photo of you here so you can show Zach – he should see you like this.” Something sparkled in Warren’s eyes briefly that I couldn’t identify.
I pressed my lips together and looked back out over the ledge.
“Do you want to go back?” he asked.
The question sounded strange to me. I knew he meant if I wanted to return to the party. Yet there was more to the question in my mind. Did I want to go back?
“We should,” I finally managed.
He smiled sympathetically and lifted his arm for me as I wrapped my hand back in the crook of his elbow. We rode the elevator down in silence and as I glimpsed at him briefly I noticed the corners of his mouth turned up.
“What are you smiling at?”
“I’m just happy.” He looked down at me and his eyes sparkled in delight again. I couldn’t help but smile in return. I was happy too.
“Thank you,” I said as he raised his eyebrows at me questioningly as we stepped out of the elevator. The sounds of the party seemed to rise to another level since we had left not too long ago. “For taking me to the roof. You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.”
“Warren Brown!” a male voice boomed, startling me.
I turned to see a gray-haired man approaching us as I stiffened uncomfortably. I tried to release my arm but Warren placed his palm on mine, holding me there.
“Doc Murphy, this is Melanie King, photo-journalist from the wheel. Melanie, this is Doc Murphy, cunning and lethal attorney from Global.” Global was the conservative political paper housed in New York City. A small paper, but one that brought in millions a year through their stock-market department. He took my free hand in his and bowed slightly. I couldn’t help but beam at his chivalry.
“Ms. King, was the San Francisco riot photos yours?”
Stunned, I barely managed a response. “It was.”
“My wife kept that copy, she kept raving over your compassionate photography. Very nice job Ms. King, very nice.”
I looked up to Warren who beamed with pride.
“Thank you Mr. Murphy.” I felt my skin redden in response to the praise.
“Please, call me Doc.” He turned his attention back to Warren. “Warren, do you mind if I talk to you in private? I know tonight is for fun, but I just have one issue I need to address.”
I unhooked my arm from Warren’s and excused myself to return to my table. But, not before I looked back to see Warren watching me leave with a look of regret. My skin felt heated by his gaze, leaving me so flustered that I barely remembered returning to my table.
…
“Mel?”
I gasped, forgetting where I was. I looked up to see Zach watching me curiously. We had come to a complete stop.
“Where are we?”
“Café de Marco.”
“I had lunch already, Zach.”
He shrugged, “We can have some coffee. I have something I want to talk to you about anyway.”
5
My heart rate climbed as we sat down at our table in our favorite go-to neighborhood restaurant. Our favorite server, Chloe, approached us, smiling ear to ear.
“Mr. and Mrs. King, it’s been so long. I thought you two had moved.”
Zach frowned. “How long has it been?”
I watched Chloe as she chewed on her pen, thinking. “Well, let’s see. It’s been a year at least.”
“A year? It can’t be,” Zach said, clearly upset by this idea.
Chloe nodded, “Well, I got back from maternity leave about six weeks ago.”
“Maternity leave?” I asked, surprised. When was she even pregnant?
“Yes, a baby girl. She’s so sweet. She reminds me of Lillian with her cute chubby cheeks.”
I took a deep breath, feeling like I’d been holding it for the last year or so. Zach wasn’t the only one who had lost time. Chloe took our orders of coffee and dessert for Zach.
Zach leaned forward and took my hands in his from across the table. The gesture felt strange. I fought the urge to pull my hands back.
“So, I have some news,” Zach began and my heart drummed loudly in my ears. “I’m making partner.”
I felt my eyes widen in surprise. “Honey! That’s wonderful! Congratulations!”
“There’s more.”
I froze mid-expression. He was clearly excited, but I could tell there was something underlying that I wasn’t going to like.
“It’s in Barley Coast.”
I yanked my hands back reflexively and stared at him in disbelief. “Barley Coast is a four hour drive from here. Are you moving there?”
When I saw his expression change from excitement to disappointment I knew he wasn’t moving. He was expecting us all to move.
“No, of course not - not alone. You guys would move too.” He chewed on his lip mindlessly, staring at a spot behind me. I had hurt him with my question, it was obvious.
Chloe brought us our coffee’s, giving me a chance to gather my thoughts interim.
“Zach, what about Lillian’s school? Her friends? My job?”
“Lillian is young, she can make friends easily at a new school.”
“And my job?”
Zach ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. It was something he did when he was trying to contain his anger. Anger he had no right to have.
“Zach, my job,” I whispered sadly.
“Melanie, you know how long I’ve been wanting to make partner.”
“Yeah, before you met me,” I said harshly.
He took a deep, steadying breath. “So you just want me to drop the opportunity? A dream I’ve had since as long as I can remember?” His voice cracked in the end, showing just how much this conversation was unraveling him. Very little did.
“Why in Barley Coast? Why not here?”
“There’s no position here and nothing that will open for years. Even if I went to a different firm it would take years to build up the credentials and credibility to even be given the chance. This is it, Mel.” He looked down at his wrist. “We need to pick up Lillian.”
I just nodded numbly.
I went through the motions for the rest of the evening, playing every scenario in my mind. Every scenario would play out with Zach not in the picture.
And then I would look at my daughter.
I scrunched the shirt around my waist nervously and pressed against my stomach, as if I could physically undo the knots that had formed. Zach had ordered Chinese food, Lillian’s favorite, for dinner and I barely touched my food. I just watched Lillian bounce up and down as she cracked open our fortune cookies.
“A great opportunity awaits,” Zach read mine aloud cheerily. “See Mel, even the fortune cook
ie knows.”
I didn’t respond and just looked at him.
“I’ll put Lillian to bed.” He sighed as he carried the leftovers into the kitchen and I sat on the couch with my legs curled under me. I was moping, I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of leaving our life, leaving my job, and I knew - deep down - leaving Warren. I knew it would need to come to an end soon and it should’ve come to an end a long time ago. But I couldn’t stop.
I gave Lillian a good night kiss and excused myself. I needed a long bath.
I lit the candles around my favorite bear claw tub and put on my favorite Parisian sensual music. I needed to de-stress and the only way I knew how is the way that Warren had taught me, had brought out in me.
After a few minutes in the bath I knew I didn’t have it in me. Instead, I just leaned back and closed my eyes. Thinking of what I was going to do and tried to imagine my life differently. Maybe this is what I deserved - to be ripped away from all the things that gave me pleasure, because they were all the wrong ways.
Soon, all my mind noticed were the bubbles caressing my skin and I yearned for that touch against my skin again. When I heard the soft creak of the door opening I kept my eyes closed. Maybe Zach would leave if he thought I didn’t want to be disturbed. I heard his footsteps on the tile floor and knew when he came to a stop near the tub.
There was a moment before I felt his hand lightly stroke against my ankle under the water, creating gentle ripples in the bath water. I flinched at his touch and he stopped for a moment. But, for whatever reason he continued to run his hand up my leg. My mind fought the urge that my body began to respond to. The candlelight, the warm water, the emotions of the day, the years of neglect were crashing on me like a wave of need and desire.
“Mel,” he whispered against my skin and I responded to his hand under the water.
My back arched, lifting my chest above the water. The cool air felt erotic against my breasts and Zach cupped his hand behind my head, pulling me into a fiery kiss. “Mel,” he whispered again.
I felt the tear fall down my cheek as we kissed.
I don’t know when or how, but he ended up in the water wearing only his button down dress shirt that now clung to his wet skin. I crawled on top of him and felt his familiar body underneath my naked one. When he slid inside of me it was sweet relief. I rode him hard and angrily. I knew my emotions were coming through me in our sex but I didn’t care, I needed it. I was still so mad at him and yet I missed him. I felt numb underneath his tongue and yet my skin had awakened to his touch and his attention.
